The Double

He was looking down at me with a look of almost childish anticipation. He really wanted to see me in the full outfit.

We hadn’t talked about the ambush the night before. But it had shaken both of us: the way Ralavich had looked at me had given me nightmares and Konstantin had been grim-faced and silent all morning. I knew now not to ask about his work, or try to ask about his past and what Ralavich had done that made him hate him so much. But there was one thing I could do to make him feel better. For some reason, he cared about this ball. Well, fine. If it was important to him, I’d make it perfect.

Taking a deep breath, I crammed my left foot into its shoe. I had to lever the unyielding leather with both hands to force it over my heel, but I did it. The right one felt even tighter. I had to cross my toes over each other and arch my foot, hook the heel in and then try to flatten things out, careful to keep smiling. Owww! Walking was going to be agony.

But when I saw the look on his face, it was worth it. Just for a second, he looked happy and warm. He could have been any normal guy who’d bought his girlfriend a dress and loved how she looked in it.

Then he pouted and looked away, brooding, trying to shut that happiness down. I was beginning to understand that happiness was weakness, in his eyes. My chest went tight. Konstantin….

I put my hand decisively on my hip, forming a crook he could hook his hand through. “Let’s go to the ball,” I said.

He glowered, eyeing my arm suspiciously.

And then he nodded, threaded his arm through it, and led me downstairs.

38

Hailey

AS WE DESCENDED the stairs, I started to wake up to the scale of this thing. As we passed one of the rear windows, I saw a Lamborghini cruise past, engine throbbing and snorting, to park next to a long line of other exotic sports cars. A sea of limousines were parked out front. The grounds had been transformed: tens of thousands of tiny white fairy lights had been strung from the trees, giving them a frosty, magical glow, and flaming torches lit the way to the door.

Instead of going down to the main hall, we veered off on the second floor and went down a back staircase, emerging from the big double doors that led into the ballroom. Grigory was there, and he nodded to us. “Everyone’s here,” he told Konstantin. And he put his hand on the doorknobs, ready to open them wide.

I suddenly realized what was about to happen. “Wait!” I said desperately.

Konstantin and Grigory looked round at me in confusion.

“I—” It’s probably not as bad as I think, I told myself. But I had to be sure. I let go of Konstantin’s arm, stooped and put my eye to the keyhole.

It was much worse than I thought.

The enormous ballroom had been lined with tables of food and a life-size ice sculpture of an angel stood at one end. A string quartet was sitting in one corner, instruments poised. And something like two hundred people were arranged in two thick crowds on either side of the room, the women all in huge, elaborate dresses like mine. That left an aisle down the center for...us.

We were the guests of honor. We were going to make a grand entrance.

I felt myself go pale. I was used to hiding. This was my worst nightmare.

“Christina?” asked Konstantin in puzzlement.

Now my face went red. I was scared and I was ashamed of being scared. I knew I should just fake the confidence: Christina would have lapped up the attention. But the idea of all those eyes on me made me want to curl up into a ball. And now Konstantin and Grigory were staring at me and wondering what was going on and—“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just—” I glanced helplessly up at Konstantin, trying to find a way to explain. They’re expecting someone glamorous, but they’re going to get me—

I saw him frown and I quickly looked away. I’m not surprised he’s annoyed, I’m ruining everything. I saw him nod to Grigory and the guard quickly made himself scarce. He’s going to tell me off, like on the rooftop.

But instead, one knuckle pressed gently under my chin and lifted my head to look at him. He was frowning even harder but, when I saw the glint of blue in his eyes, my fear melted away. He wasn’t annoyed because I was scared; he was furious because I doubted myself.

He spoke with the same quiet intensity that he used to strike fear into mob bosses and mayors. But for once, he was using that power for good. “You listen to me,” he ordered. “There isn’t a woman in that room, not one of them, who compares to you.” He took my hand and squeezed it. “Do you hear me?”