Chapter 2 - Gwen

“Which effect refers to the tendency of individuals to alter their behavior in response to awareness of being observed?”

“The Hawthorne Effect.”

“Correct. Also referred to as “configurationism,” what school of psychology from Germany says that when we look at the world, we see the “big picture” and not just the individual pieces?” Riley peeks out from behind her laptop screen. “Hint: you could also summarize it by saying, ‘The whole is more than the sum of its parts.’”

“Mhm… Gestalt.”

“Correct!” Riley beams and throws me another sour candy, which hits me square in the nose. We both laugh as I wipe the sugar off my nose before I pop it into my mouth.

“Which cognitive bias describes the illusion that you know other people better than they know you?” She asks next.

I tap my finger against the ground. “Uh… attentional bias?”

Riley sighs dramatically. “No,” she says. “Asymmetric insight. Come on, you know this!”

“Oh,” My eyebrows pull together in a frown, and I stop chewing to stick out the mushed-up candy with my tongue. “Does that mean you take this back?”

“Ew!” Riley grumbles, which makes me grin as I pull the sour back into my mouth and swallow. “This isn’t funny, Gwennie. Your exam is next week. You need to know all this.”

“Don’t try to lecture me,” I can’t help but scoff, letting out a groan as I lift my back from the carpet of our dorm room. “You take political science of all things. You don’t even have to study.”

“Here we go again!” Riley rolls her eyes and turns her body to face the wall.

“Hey, what does democrat mean?” My grin widens as I make fun of her. “What is state sovereignty?” I shove my fingers into her hips, which causes her to burst out in laughter as I tickle her. “Why is government necessary?”

“Stop! Stop!” She cries out before effectively hitting me square in the breast and causing me to fall backward.

I gasp in exaggerated pain, holding my boob in my hand. “Ow! You bitch.”

“You deserved that!” Riley says with a grin. She’s right, to be fair.

“Come on,” I groan, standing to my feet. I open the small window between our beds and open it, inhaling deeply as the cool, fresh air brushes against my face. The warmth of the sunlight sits on my cheeks, and I close my eyes for a few seconds to fully enjoy the sensation before I turn to face Riley. “We’ve been at this for the last twelve days nonstop. I’m tired. I’m bored .”

Riley rolls her eyes in annoyance, but she’s used to my antics by now. She’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We were neighbors and grew up together in Sparks. We shared the same hobbies and chased after the same dreams. We both longed to move to the big city someday, study at the same school before going on to work big girl jobs, coming home every night to an apartment that we shared together. We have practically lived our entire lives thus far glued to one another’s side, and neither of us regrets one bit of it. I truly think that Riley is my platonic soulmate. I’m not religious or anything, but there’s no way she wasn’t made to be my best friend.

“So what?” Riley says, shooting me a stern look. “This isn’t meant to be fun. This is important. We fail any of our exams and must retake the whole year.” She tilts her head at me in that condescending way she knows I hate. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to move on to the next semester, you know.”

“We’re prepared!” I argue, and I’m not just saying that so that I can take a break. Riley and I are incredibly studious. We prepare way ahead. We both started on our exam notes and key cards all the way back in the first week of the semester. Every Sunday, we spend at least two hours going over all the material from all our classes. We consistently review past lecture slides and read, watch, and listen to as much more as possible on the subjects we’re taught. Plus, I wasn’t lying when I said we’ve been studying the last twelve days nonstop, a quarter of which involved pulling all-nighters. I desperately need a break, a very well-deserved one. And she does, too.

“Come on,” I keep at her. One thing about Riley is that I can get her to break with enough persuasion. “I know your brain is just as fried as mine is. We can both recite our material from front to back with no hints. We deserve a break. Hell, we deserve a night out.”

She grimaces. “What? God, the last thing I need right now is to get blindingly drunk and forget everything I’ve studied so far by morning.”

“We don’t have to get drunk!” I try, and I grin sheepishly when she shoots me a look. “Okay, you don’t have to get drunk. I’m getting fucking wasted.”

“Gwen—”

“Riley,” I interrupt, walking toward her. I take her laptop off her lap and take both hands in mine. “One night. Just one night, and I promise you I will study for every hour of every day until our exams next week. I promise.” My expressions soften. “I need a night off. I’m dying here.”

She holds my gaze for a few moments before she sighs with defeat. “So do I.”

A mischievous flame sparks to life within me, and I bite my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle my overly excited grin. “See? So let’s do something. I’ll go anywhere. Seriously, anywhere.”

Riley looks up and seems to think for a few moments. “No nightclubs,” she says, “I don’t think my brain can handle the loud music without melting.”

I laugh. “Okay, no nightclubs,” I agree, which basically eliminates a bar as an option. They’re just like nightclubs, only you can’t hide in the loud music and darkness from the guys who drunkenly try to get with you. “What about… bowling? That new alley opened up on Flamingo Road just the other day.”

She gives me a look that tells me she’s not all interested, so I continue to throw random ideas her way. Karaoke. Axe throwing. Museum date. Every one of my ideas is shut down, and I can’t help but blow raspberries in irritation. Until…

“What about that casino just outside of the strip?” My eyes light up, then dull as I try to remember the name. “What was it… Jewel… something?”

“The Diamond Casino?” Riley says, and when I nod, she snorts. “Yeah, no way.”

“Oh, come on!” I protest.

“That place is pure insanity,” She goes on. “Everything is super expensive, it’s always super crowded. Plus, I’ve heard they’re super picky about who gets in there. And I’m sure they’re not too keen to let in a couple of girls with worn-out fake IDs over some rich socialites.” She gives me a look. “Besides, the last thing I need to worry about right now is losing money.”

“Let’s give it a chance. Please?” I keep at it. “Think about it. There’s so much to do there. They’ve got a restaurant where we can eat, grab a couple of drinks at the bar, and dance a little. We can hit the machines or the tables.” I smirk. “You don’t have to spend a dime as long as you agree not to beg me for a donation once I win big, okay?”

Riley rolls her eyes, but she seems to think about it. “You’d probably be a killer poker player. You know, since you could see through everyone’s poker faces and all.”

My smirk widens to a grin, and I squeeze her hands tighter. “What do you say, Riles?” I ask. “Take out the fake IDs and hit the town for the night, just like old times?”

Riley holds my gaze for a moment before she rolls her eyes again and nods. I immediately jump up and begin to cheer, which causes her to laugh. “Okay, fine, fine,” she groans dramatically, admitting defeat. “But, please, no later than two a.m., okay? If I throw off my sleep schedule, I’m finished.”

“Yes! Yes, fine, whatever you want,” I reply, too excited to fully focus on anything she has to say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll literally ace all my exams just for you.”

“Please do,” Riley laughs before exhaling deeply. “All right. Fuck it. Let’s get ready.”

“Fuck it,” I grin.

***

Riley and I can’t help but giggle as we pass through the glass doors, the nerves from wondering whether our fake IDs would work swiftly disappearing as we enter the casino. The second we enter, we’re both in awe of our surroundings. We have both seen the massive building from the outside dozens of times, and we’ve seen photos here and there of the inside on different social media platforms, but nothing could do the casino justice other than actually being here.

The place was glorious. It was magnificent in size. Different slot machines litter one side of the room, while people crowd a bar on the opposite side. We eagerly walked down an aisle of red carpet, not at all blending in with the opulent crowd as we made way for our first stop—the restaurant. We were both starving, so we were in agreement when Riley suggested starting our night with a filling but not too heavy dinner before we got to the fun parts. I opted for a juicy medium rare steak while Riley wolfed down a Caesar salad with grilled chicken.

“Let’s say we hit the tables first,” I suggest, spotting the poker tables in the back right corner of the massive area. “Start off by tripling our money. How does that sound?” Riley couldn’t help but agree.

Riley was right about me potentially having an advantage. While I’m not at all experienced in playing poker, I was somehow able to bullshit my way through the three long games I played by reading the other players’ faces exactly how Riley predicted, turning my couple hundred-dollar bets into nearly a couple thousand.

Our next stop was the slot machines, where we realized we weren’t as lucky. My winnings went from almost two thousand to almost seven hundred. Riley found she had a little more luck than me and was able to turn three hundred dollars into nearly six hundred.

“Okay, this is killing me,” I eventually say as I lose another fifty dollars for the sixth time in a row. I need to find out what is possessing me to use the same machine I haven’t had any luck with for the last fifteen minutes. “I need a drink. Badly.”

Riley gives me a questionable look. “Promise me you won’t get too drunk,” she says.

I roll my eyes. “I promise. Come on.”

We head back the way we came from, nearly getting lost after accidentally turning into the wrong corridor. My gaze wanders around the casino while we walk, taking in every bit of my lavish surroundings. I scan the faces of every person as we gently push through the crowd when suddenly, my eyes land on a figure who stands out starkly against the opulence.

For a second, I struggle to peel my eyes away. The man is dangerously tall and imposing, with a chiseled jawline and dark, intense eyes that seem to sweep over the crowd with a practiced, almost predatory air. There’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t seem to match the wild sparkle that shines in everyone else’s eyes, and something tells me he’s not here to explore one of the casino’s many activities.

I pull my gaze away, but the man’s presence is magnetic, and despite the throng of people, my eyes keep returning to him. Whoever he is, he’s too focused on whatever he needs to do to notice my painfully obvious stare, which soaks in every inch of him. He’s disgustingly handsome in such a flawless way that you’d think he was handcrafted by god himself. Yet, I couldn’t ignore the sense of danger that seemed to be attached to him.

Riley nudges me, drawing my attention. “You coming or what?” She asks, and when I look back, the man is gone.

“Sorry, yeah,” I mutter before I follow her into the bar.

We ordered the fanciest-sounding drinks off the menu and settled at a cozy table with a good view of the entire bar. “I think we should hit the poker tables again,” Riley suggested before detailing an elaborate plan that she believed would make us the most money.

The more she talks, the worse I feel. I’m completely incapable of focusing on a single thing she’s saying. I can’t help but think about the man I saw before. Tall, brooding, handsome. My brain immediately conjures a million different theories about who he is. Undercover intelligence officer working a scary case taking down a criminal overlord. Maybe he was a hitman, stalking every corner of this place until he took out his high-value target.

God. I’m losing it. I can’t help but smirk as I try to shake the man from my thoughts, but before I can fully do so, that same man is now directly in my line of sight, tucked in a booth a couple of spots across from us. I can’t help but watch him closely as he takes a sip of his drink and then checks his watch.

“Who are you looking at?” Riley’s voice snaps me back to reality, just momentarily. I make eye contact with her, suddenly embarrassed.

“Oh, nobody,” I say, and though she doesn’t appear to believe me, she doesn’t question me further. I glance back, and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach as my eyes meet the man’s. He’s dressed in a sharp black suit, further accentuating his dangerous allure that I can’t help but find both unsettling and captivating.

Almost immediately, I avert my eyes, lowering my head as I sip my drink, hoping to hide the redness of my cheeks. Maybe I successfully hid them from the man, but Riley had caught me. When I look up, she’s frowning at me.

“What’s gotten into you?” Riley asks with a playful but confused scoff. “You’re as red as a tomato. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I reply a little too quickly. I’m not sure why I’m denying anything. I’m an open book when it comes to Riley. Yet, for some reason, it’s almost as if a part of me wants this man all to myself.

A few minutes pass before I look in his direction again, a shiver crawling up my spine as I see his eyes are already on mine. There’s a small smirk on his face, a knowing, confident smirk that suddenly makes me breathless but also sprouts a daring sensation in the pit of my stomach.

Slowly, the corners of my lips curl up into a smile. It causes his smile to grow bigger. I can’t help but bite my bottom lip with excitement.

The excitement immediately drains from my body as I watch the man rise to his feet and begin to walk toward me with a purposeful stride.

My shock is so palpable that Riley picks up on what’s going on right away this time. “Who’s that?” She asks in a whisper as if the man would hear us from the other side of the room.

“I don’t know,” is all I’m able to sputter before the man is standing right in front of our table. He’s so tall that I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

“What’s your name?”

I shiver under the intensity of his baritone voice. He has a Russian accent, which only makes him ten times more mysterious and intimidating than he already is.

My lips part, but no words come out. I’m suddenly flustered. It feels like the words are caught in my throat.

Fuck . What’s wrong with me?

I exchange a glance with Riley, who has a startled expression. She seems to be just as speechless as I am, and she’s not even the one being addressed.

It takes me almost a full thirty seconds to force back the lump in my throat and feign a look of confidence. “Um…” I clear my throat as the smile returns to my face, only this time it was more shy than flirty. “Gwen. My name is Gwen.”

“Gwen…” He repeats my name to me slowly, almost as if tasting it in his mouth, savoring it. His eyebrows lift just barely with interest. “What a beautiful name,” he adds, causing my heart to flutter. My grin widens.

“Thank you,” I can’t help but giggle. The nervousness begins to die down, replaced with a newfound courage. “What’s your name?”

“Roman,” he replies. He extends his arm, and I look down at his large hand. My breath hitches as I slide my much smaller hand into his and watch as he brings it upwards to place a small kiss on the back of it. There’s something completely magnetizing about this man. “It’s lovely to meet you, Gwen.”

“You too,” I nearly sputter. I continue to watch him as he greets Riley the same way, except he doesn’t kiss the back of her hand like he did with mine. I can’t help but feel special. I can’t help but wonder if that was an intentional move on his end and, if so, if he wanted me to see it.

“Where are you girls from?” Roman asks. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“We’re from around here,” I said almost too quickly. I’m eager to ask him the same question, eager to know everything I possibly can about this dark, mysterious man. I don’t even realize I’m perhaps sharing too much information with a stranger as I add, “We go to the University of Nevada.”

A sharp pain suddenly hits me in the shin, and it takes everything in me not to wince out loud. I look over at Riley, who’s already glaring my way. I give her a look that says sorry before Roman’s voice forces my eyes back in his direction.

“Ah, you’re students?” He asks, and I nod.

“I’m studying psychology,” I say, glancing over swiftly at Riley. I wait for her to add to the conversation, but she’s purposefully keeping her head down. I curse at her mentally before I return my attention to Roman.

“What brings you girls to a place like this?” Roman asks next, and I watch as he tucks his hands into his pants pockets. My eyes uncontrollably pull to the left towards his crotch, causing a throbbing sensation to sprout in my own before I immediately fix my gaze to meet his eyes once more.

“We were looking for a bit of fun,” I answer, and I can feel Riley lift her head to look at me, sensing my flirtatious tone. Roman seems to pick up on it quite easily, too, as I notice his stare grow more intense, and I tilt my head as my smile widens.

“Really?” He hums and leans a bit closer. “And what kind of fun was that?”

I lean in closer, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Oh, you know..." I trail my fingers along the edge of my glass, watching Roman's eyes follow the movement. "We're not looking for anything too wild, just enough excitement to make the night memorable."

As I speak, I notice Roman's attention isn't fully on me. His eyes dart around the room, scanning the crowd with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. There's a tightness in his jaw, a subtle tension in his shoulders that wasn't there a moment ago.

"Is that so?" he murmurs, his accent thicker now as if his mind is elsewhere. "And have you found what you're looking for?"

I bite my lip, trying to recapture his full attention. "I think I might have," I purr, but I can’t get rid of the sudden feeling of disappointment that brushes down my spine. Did I do something wrong? Say the wrong thing? “What about you?” I ask, trying to rid myself of these sensless feelings.

Finally, his attention returns to me, and he smiles. “Business. The place belongs to my family. I’m checking out some new security features we implemented recently.”

I perk up with great interest. “Really? That’s so cool. So, you run this place?”

“Something like that,” He says, and just like that, his gaze shifts, and he’s gone again. I nearly sigh out loud, defeated. One moment, he’s practically undressing me with his eyes; the other, it’s almost as if the conversation doesn’t mean anything to him.

Then, he says something that erases those feelings entirely. ”Actually,” Roman says, making eye contact with me once more. “I do own this V.I.P. club on the strip. It’s incredibly hard to get into, but for you girls… I’ll make the exception.”

My eyes light up, and I bite my lip, excitement coursing through my veins. I look at Riley, expecting her to share similar feelings, but the look in her eyes tells me the opposite. Without saying a word, her eyebrows knit together, and she shakes her head nondescriptly. She doesn’t want to go.

I tilt my head, raising my eyebrows in a pleading manner. Come on, Riley, I think to myself. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. A V.I.P. club on the strip? Hell, you couldn’t even get into the regular clubs most of the time on the strip, with how busy they were. And here Roman was, giving us easy access? How could we pass that up?

“I wasn’t giving you the choice,” Roman says firmly but playfully, extending a hand to Riley and me. “Come on. I’ll take you ladies there. You’ll love it.”

I don’t hesitate to place my hand in his, and his fingers curl around my hand, practically swallowing it in his large palm. The connection shoots warmth up my arm and dripping down my core, daring to extend lower. I look at Riley, and this time, she’s shooting daggers my way, but I can’t bring myself to reject Roman’s offer.

“We’d love to,” I say, and when I look at Riley this time, it’s almost apologetic. She looks like she wants to roll her eyes as she puts her hand in Roman’s as well, and we both get out of our seats.

Bang.

Confusion washes over me as an explosive sound rings out, so sudden and so deafening that I’m barely able to register it. My eyebrows knit together as I watch Roman’s expression drop. I quickly glance at Riley, whose confused expression is slowly contorting into one of fear.

Bang .

“What the fuck…” I trail off. It doesn’t register in my mind at all that the sound I’m hearing is gunshots until the area goes from cozy, light chatter to a screaming mass of terrified bodies running in all sorts of directions.

Panic quickly begins to seep into my pores, and before I know it, I jump to my feet. I have no idea what is happening, no idea where the bullets are coming from. My breathing starts to grow unsteady as I frantically look from left to right, desperately trying to scan the room but unable to focus on one thing. Everything within my vision starts to blur.

Bang .

"Get down!" Roman's voice cuts through the chaos, his commanding tone leaving no room for argument. In an instant, his hand is on my shoulder, pushing me down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency of his movements. I feel the cold, hard floor beneath my palms as I scramble under the table, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear the screams around me.

Riley is beside me, her face pale with fear, eyes wide and glassy. I reach out and grip her hand, feeling her trembling fingers intertwine with mine. The world seems to slow down, each second stretching into an eternity as panic and adrenaline course through my veins.

From our position under the table, I can see feet rushing past, a frantic stampede of expensive shoes and stumbling heels. The air is thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and fear. Glasses shatter somewhere nearby, the tinkling sound of breaking crystal mixing with the terrified shouts and screams. I flinch at each new noise, my body tensing as if preparing for impact.

Through the chaos, I catch a glimpse of Roman. I watch in stunned disbelief as Roman's hand disappears beneath his jacket, emerging with a sleek black pistol. The sight of the weapon sends a jolt through my system, my brain struggling to reconcile the charming man from moments ago with this dangerous entity before me.

"Stay down," he orders again, his voice low and intense. "Don't move unless I tell you to."

Another shot rings out, closer this time. I hear the splintering of wood, and my heart leaps into my throat as I realize bullets are flying dangerously near. Riley whimpers beside me, and I squeeze her hand tighter, trying to offer comfort even as terror threatens to overwhelm me.

Roman's movements are fluid and practiced. Crouched and using the overturned table as cover, his eyes are cold and focused as he exchanges fire with unseen assailants. His eyes, once warm and inviting, are now cold and focused. The transformation is jarring, like watching a mask slip away to reveal something entirely different underneath.

I knew he was in trouble from the moment I saw him. I could see it in those dark eyes, that handsome grin of his.

But this wasn’t just trouble.

It was danger.

The thunderous bursts of his gun is deafening, each shot reverberating through my bones. Muzzle flashes illuminate his face in stark, intermittent bursts, casting harsh shadows across his chiseled features.

I can't tear my eyes away from him as I watch him fire, each blast sending shockwaves through my body. I'm frozen in place, my mind unable to process the chaos unfolding around us. Suddenly, a pained cry cuts through the noise, followed by the dull thud of something hitting the floor. The shooting stops abruptly, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Before I can even begin to make sense of what's happening, Roman's strong hands are on us, pulling Riley and me to our feet with urgent force. "We need to move. Now!" he commands, his voice steely and unwavering.

I stumble as he pulls us forward, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me. The casino floor has transformed into a war zone—overturned tables, shattered glass, and discarded chips litter the ground.

Roman's grip on my wrist tightens as he pulls me through the chaotic casino floor—my heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the screams and shattering glass around us. We weave between overturned tables and panicked patrons, the acrid smell of gunpowder burning my nostrils.

"Keep moving!" Roman shouts over his shoulder, his eyes scanning our surroundings with lethal focus. I stumble, my heels catching on the plush carpet, but his iron grip keeps me upright.

Riley trails just behind us, her fingers digging into my other arm. I can feel her trembling through our connected hands. "Gwen," she whimpers, her voice barely audible above the din, "I can't—"

A deafening crack splits the air. Roman jerks suddenly, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. My stomach lurches as I see a bloom of red spreading across his shoulder. He's been hit.

"Roman!" I cry out, my voice raw with panic.

He doesn't slow down; if anything, his pace quickens. "Keep moving!" he growls through gritted teeth, his face a mask of determination and pain.

But Riley has seen the blood. Her eyes go wide, pupils dilating with terror. "Oh god, oh god," she stammers, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. "He's... he's been shot!"

I feel her grip on my arm loosen. "Riley, no!" I plead, but it's too late. With a strangled cry, she tears her hand from mine and bolts in the opposite direction, disappearing into the chaos of fleeing bodies and overturned furniture.

"Riley!" I scream, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Panic overwhelms me, and I start to turn, desperate to go after her. I can't lose her. What if she gets shot? I tug away from Roman, but before I get the chance to chase after her, I feel large, muscular arms wrap around my waist.

"Stop!” I immediately protest as he lifts me in the air, presses my body against his chest, and holds me bridal-style. My heart viciously pitter-patters in my chest from a mixture of shyness, shock, and fear as Roman starts to sprint, expertly navigating the crowd.

“Stop!” I try again, but it’s no use. I turn to look him in the face, but he only meets my eyes for a second before returning his focus to the scenes in front of him, determination glinting in his eyes.

Nausea begins to take over, and I can’t tell if it's from the nervousness of being in this man’s arms or if the events unfolding in front of me as a whole are causing so much fear that it’s making me ill.

I can’t help but wrap my arms around Roman’s neck as he carries me. It’s purely for stability, but it makes me so flustered that I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks, which pisses me off even more. Everything moves so fast that I struggle to make out other faces and figures as Roman hurriedly carries me through the crowd. My mind, however, never loses focus on my friend.

“Riley!” I shout out, my eyes frantically darting from left to right as I look for my friend. I can’t find her. I can’t find her anywhere. She couldn’t have gotten far. No, the crowd was too thick, too panicked. However, the many exits this place has must be so incredibly congested that there is no way she has left the building already.

My lips peel apart to call out again when suddenly my heart drops.

Way out in the distance, I see Riley. I watch as she runs, and then, suddenly, she’s surrounded by multiple men in dark suits who latch onto her. One wraps his arms around her, while another covers her mouth before a third throws a black bag over her head. Together, they all begin to carry her away.

“Oh my god!” I choke out a terrified gasp. “Oh my god, Riley! Riley!” I scream as if my screams would be heard by her as if they would magically stop the men from disappearing into the crowd with her.

“Riley! Ri—fuck, put me down!” I yell at Roman. I grow dizzier and dizzier by the moment as he sprints with me through the crowd. “Stop! Stop! I saw them take her! I saw them take her!”

“I can’t,” Roman says as he ducks out of the way of a man falling over. His head moves from left to right before he slows his pace, just momentarily, to look down at me.

“What?” I croak, tears stinging my eyes. “What do you mean you can’t? We have to go back. We have to help her! I can’t just leave her! They took her.” I’m panicking more and more by the second, and my words are a jumbled mess.

“We have to leave her behind,” Roman says to me. His stone-cold face softens, his eyebrows knotting together, with a look of what seems to be guilt flashing across his gaze. “They are long gone by now. It’s too late.”

Anger burns fiercely inside of me as I slam my palms into his chest, striking him as hard as I possibly can.

“Stop!” I yell as he picks up his pace again, and I swipe away a hot tear that rolls down my cheek. “Fucking stop! Stop, you asshole!” I curse at him, but there’s nothing I can do. I try to pound my palms into his chest over and over, curse at him incessantly, but to no avail. Roman’s grip is firm, his pace unrelenting.

The chaos of the casino seems to spiral into a blur of flashing lights and disjointed screams as he navigates the maze of panic-stricken bodies. My struggles against him are futile; every attempt to wriggle free only makes me more disoriented. The world tilts, and the frantic rush of my heartbeat echoes in my ears.

"Roman! Stop! Put me down!" I cry out, but the scenes around us swallow my voice. Tears sting my eyes as I look back to where I last saw my best friend, but she is no longer there. The tightness in my chest intensifies with every passing second. I suddenly feel as if I’m about to faint.

“Breathe,” Roman says. “I need you to breathe for me.”

“I-I’m not… fucking…” I try, but my voice is lost in my gasps for air. I lift a hand and rub at my throat as if I’m trying to pull the words out myself. “I can’t... I can’t…”

“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” Roman says, but his voice is growing fainter and fainter. His grip around my head tightens, the warmth of my arm enveloping my upper body in a comforting, safe embrace. Black spots cloud the corner of my vision, and I’m so lost in this feeling of security that I fail to feel the pressure he’s putting on my carotid artery with his bicep, which carefully helps me to lose consciousness.

We burst through a side exit and into the cool night air. The contrast is jarring—one moment, I’m enveloped in the heat of the casino’s pandemonium, and the next, I’m outside in a dimly lit alley. Roman’s steps are quick and purposeful, and before I know it, we’re at a sleek, dark sedan. He slides me off his shoulder and deposits me carefully into the backseat.

I don’t sit up. I don’t have the strength to or for anything else. Every second that passes, I grow tired quicker and quicker. My eyes are blurred from both tears, and I slowly slip into unconsciousness as I watch him hover over me.

“Roman…” I mumble, my voice croaking barely above a whisper. I blink heavily at him as he leans towards me to brush a stray blonde hair from my eyes, resting his palm on my cheek.

“You’re okay. You’re safe,” he says as the blackness rapidly takes over. I’m unable to hold my head up any longer as it slumps against the leather seat, sweetly guided by his palm.

“You’re safe now, Moya Lyubov . I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”