It’s just good it’s not coming from the one person I worried about the most—Mikhail’s father. Although I don’t know what he’s talking to Mikhail about.
I can’t worry about that, either.
Everything José told me is on my mind.
Nothing is sitting well with me, but I have no power.
The only power I have now is my present behavior.
I have to keep doing what I’m doing.
So, I keep pretending I’m Adriana Alvarez.
The problem is not knowing when things will happen. It’s all so risky.
I could have this whole escape route in mind, but what happens if I’m discovered before that time?
That’s not going to be good for me.
At least I know José was able to buy me more time by getting rid of everything I was worried about in Mexico that could identify Adriana.
Knowing he’d done so eased my mind. Only to a certain degree, though, because the threat of exposure is still very much there, and neither of us knows or will know where that threat will come from.
I just wish there were something more I could do for myself. It’s not fair José has to do everything.
What would I do, though?
What can I do?
And what can I do in this confused state I always find myself in when I’m with Mikhail?
I think I’m at the point where I can accept that I feel something for him.
I know I do.
I can feel it stirring inside me, no matter how much I resist.
The feeling truly hit me last night in full force as I took a peek into his soul and saw the man who lay inside the monster. My heart has been a pattering mess since.
Throughout the day, as I’ve thought of him and my conversation with José, my heart has turned over and locked in confusion.
I want to push it all away, but like the flames of fire, he entices me to him. I keep touching those flames, moving my hand deeper and deeper into them even though I know I’m going to get burned.
“Enjoying the view?” comes a voice from behind me that sends a shiver of ice down my spine.
When I turn to see Ivan watching me, my skin erupts with goose bumps. The pimples scatter across my flesh and tingling my scalp.
It’s amazing. It’s cold enough out here for my breath to hang in the air. I don’t have my coat on, and my shoulders are bare, but I wasn’t cold until this man approached me.
What is it about him that feels so off to me?
He is creepy, but there’s more to him. All the warning bells are going off in my head, telling me to beware and be careful of what I say.
“I just needed some fresh air,” I answer, and he takes that as an invitation to come closer.
There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Not a friendly or humorous smile. It’s one that has a taunting vibe tacked on to it.
He looks different than Mikhail. So different I wouldn’t think they were brothers, but they both have striking similarities to their father. Ivan has light blue eyes, paler skin, and lighter brown hair. Whereas Mikhail has darker features, and his skin almost has the same olive tone as mine.