Viktoria felt like the room was spinning. She looked at the laptop screen, then at Mateo, then back at the screen. Her hands were shaking so much she had to sit on them to make them stop. The message stayed there, glowing in the dark room: "You should have stayed in fucking Russia, Fiona."
She wasn't Fiona, she knew that. She knew her mother, her father, Dmitri, and her life in Moscow. But whoever was on the other side of this screen didn't care about the truth. They only cared about the lie they had created.
She typed with one finger, her heart thumping in her throat. "I don't know who you are. Leave me alone."
The reply came back before she could even blink. It was like the person was waiting, hovering over the keyboard with a grin.
"We aren't playing games, Viktoria. You think you're safe because you're in a fancy hotel? You think your husband in Russia can protect you from here?"
