Five minutes.

Vladimir loaded and unloaded his gun to relax as he stared at the entrance to the building. She was more tenacious than she remembered.

- What the hell got into you, old man. He muttered, wiggling his leg nervously.

He had done everything not to try to see her again.

The plan, however, was simple.

See her again in her office, scare her, take her to a restaurant to settle her remorse over her coats and forget her.

He returned his weapon to his waist, inhaled, and swore in Russian, tapping his finger on his thigh.

Just go and leave her to fend for herself.

Instead, Vladimir checked...