Chapter 2 - The Woman Everyone Started Watching
Aaliyah didn't sleep that night.
Not properly.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the man inside the black sedan.
She told herself Marcus's stories had infected her imagination.
Victor owned commercial property.
Wealthy people had competitors.
Security.
Complicated business relationships.
None of that meant some stranger cared about a twenty-five-year-old nursing student whose checking account frequently dipped below fifty dollars.
Yet Victor's final words kept returning.
He wasn't watching me. He was watching you.
By morning, exhaustion had transformed fear into irritation.
She attended clinical rotation, survived a pharmacology quiz, worked four hours at the campus bookstore, and returned to her dorm shortly before five.
Kesha looked up from the couch.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“That's friendship.”
Aaliyah dropped her bag.
Kesha noticed the folded handkerchief protruding from her pocket.
“What's that?”
“A long story.”
Aaliyah told her.
Not everything.
She omitted Marcus's mafia rumors because saying them aloud sounded ridiculous.
She did mention Victor.
The dead wife.
The twelve years.
The car.
Kesha stared.
“So a rich, mysterious, ridiculously attractive older man who hasn't touched a woman in twelve years suddenly lets you hold his hand?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds weird.”
“It is weird.”
“He's grieving.”
“He's also clearly interested.”
“No.”
“Aaliyah.”
“He loved his wife.”
“Both things can be true.”
Aaliyah refused to think about that.
Victor wasn't interested in her.
Their lives didn't merely exist in different worlds.
They existed on different planets.
She counted grocery prices.
Victor wore watches that could probably pay off her student loans.
More importantly, he was still married emotionally to a woman who had been gone twelve years.
Aaliyah respected that.
Thursday came.
Victor arrived at 9:18 p.m.
Aaliyah knew the exact time because she caught herself looking at the clock every few minutes before he appeared.
He entered with the same quiet authority.
Conversations didn't stop.
But they changed.
People noticed him.
His bodyguard, Nikolai, took his usual position several yards away.
Victor sat at table nine.
Aaliyah waited deliberately before approaching.
“Soup?”
“Yes.”
“Vodka?”
“Yes.”
“Actual conversation?”
Victor looked up.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you're going to insult my coping mechanisms again.”
“Definitely.”
Victor's mouth curved.
“Then yes.”
Their strange routine continued.
Thursday.
Saturday.
Thursday.
Saturday.
He learned that Aaliyah hated mushrooms, loved terrible reality television, and wanted to become an emergency-room nurse.
She learned Victor drank coffee black, hated people touching his possessions, and knew surprisingly little about American pop culture.
One evening she discovered he had never seen The Wizard of Oz.
Aaliyah reacted as if he'd confessed to a felony.
“You cannot live in America for seventeen years and not know Dorothy.”
“I know Dorothy.”
“Who?”
“The girl.”
“Last name?”
Victor stared.
Aaliyah laughed so loudly that several customers turned.
And Victor smiled again.
Nikolai noticed.
That disturbed Victor more than Aaliyah realized.
Because Nikolai had known him before Elena died.
He remembered laughter.
Music in Victor's home.
Dinner parties.
Elena teasing her husband.
He had also watched every trace of warmth disappear after her funeral.
Now a waitress was bringing pieces of it back.
But warmth created weakness.
And weakness attracted predators.
On Saturday night, Aaliyah finished at midnight.
When she stepped outside, rain had begun falling.
The bus stop was three blocks away.
She opened her umbrella.
A black SUV pulled alongside the curb.
The passenger window lowered.
Victor sat inside.
“Get in.”
Aaliyah stopped.
“You need to work on how you phrase invitations.”
“Please get in.”
“Better.”
“I'll drive you home.”
“My dorm is twenty minutes away.”
“I know.”
That stopped her.
“How?”
Victor realized his mistake.
Aaliyah folded her arms.
“How do you know where I live?”
“Nikolai checked.”
“You investigated me?”
“I had someone watching you.”
Her anger rose immediately.
“Victor.”
“After the sedan.”
“You don't get to investigate my life because some random guy looked at me.”
Victor exited the SUV.
Rain dotted his jacket.
“I needed to know whether someone could use you against me.”
Aaliyah stared.
“Use me?”
Victor's expression changed.
He heard how it sounded.
She stepped closer.
“I'm not yours to protect.”
“No.”
“I'm not your employee.”
“No.”
“I'm not your girlfriend.”
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“No.”
“Then you don't get to have people investigate me.”
Victor remained silent.
Aaliyah turned.
“Good night.”
“Aaliyah.”
She continued walking.
“Aaliyah.”
Something in his voice made her stop.
When she turned, Victor stood in the rain.
No umbrella.
No bodyguard beside him.
No intimidating businessman.
Just a man struggling with words.
“I was afraid.”
Aaliyah's anger faltered.
Victor looked almost annoyed by the admission.
“I haven't worried about another person's safety in twelve years.”
Rain ran down his face.
“I discovered I don't remember how to do it rationally.”
Aaliyah's expression softened.
“That doesn't make spying okay.”
“I know.”
“You could have asked me where I live.”
“I know.”
“You could have said you were worried.”
“That is considerably harder.”
She almost smiled.
“Clearly.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Let me drive you.”
Aaliyah hesitated.
“Only because it's raining.”
“Of course.”
“And nobody follows me.”
“Unless there's a legitimate threat.”
“Victor.”
“Fine.”
He opened the door.
The ride began silently.
Boston slid past the windows in streaks of wet gold.
Halfway to campus, Victor spoke.
“Why nursing?”
“My grandmother.”
He waited.
“She raised me.”
Aaliyah watched the rain.
“When she got sick, I spent months around nurses. Doctors came in for ten minutes. Nurses stayed. They knew when she was scared even when she said she wasn't. They knew when I needed coffee before I did.”
“She died?”
“Two years ago.”
“I'm sorry.”
“She'd have liked you.”
Victor looked genuinely surprised.
“Why?”
“She liked complicated people.”
That made him laugh quietly.
The SUV stopped outside her dorm.
Aaliyah reached for the door.
Victor touched her wrist.
She looked back.
He released her immediately.
“I apologize.”
“For investigating me?”
“Yes.”
“Accepted.”
“For touching you without asking.”
Aaliyah studied him.
“You're allowed to touch my wrist, Victor.”
Something changed in his eyes.
“Good night.”
She smiled.
“Good night.”
Aaliyah entered the dorm.
Victor remained outside until her bedroom light appeared.
Then Nikolai spoke from the driver's seat.
“This is becoming dangerous.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“For whom?”
“For you.”
Victor looked toward Aaliyah's window.
“Find out who was in that sedan.”
“I already did.”
Victor turned.
Nikolai handed him a photograph.
Victor stared at it.
His face changed instantly.
A man stood outside the Red Lion.
Older.
Silver hair.
Expensive coat.
Victor knew him.
“What does Anton want?”
Nikolai's answer came quietly.
“He isn't interested in you.”
Victor's fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Then why is he following Aaliyah?”
Nikolai handed him a second document.
Aaliyah Carter's birth certificate.
Victor scanned it.
Mother: Danielle Carter.
Father:
Blank.
“Keep reading,” Nikolai said.
Attached was an old photograph.
A much younger Danielle stood beside a man Victor recognized.
Anton Volkov.
Victor looked again at Aaliyah's dormitory.
And understood.
The man following Aaliyah wasn't watching her because she had become close to Victor.
May you like
He had been searching for her long before Victor ever entered the Red Lion.
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