Maksimillian

I waited for Zenovia’s call since yesterday. She had my number as I gave it to her the morning before my almost three-hour flight to Helsinki, by private jet. There was no time difference between the two cities, so there was supposed to be no problem about it at all.

It didn’t matter whether or not she was in my hotel suite. I could easily have her tailed and see what she did and ensure her safety. For some reason, I was cautious—smotret’ v oba (to be on the lookout)—about it since I knew she could be a target to get to me. After all, being one of the...