Mikhail
I stumble into the penthouse and plow into a small pedestal, ignoring the hand blown vase that crashes to the floor. I step on the shards of red and blue glass in my path, breathing unevenly as I move forward. Blood stains my hands and the sleeves of my jacket. A reminder of the life I just took. A bitter taste fills my mouth, and I hate the world. The adrenaline isn't gone yet.
"Mikhail!" Maria sucks in her breath. "What happened to you?" She sits on the floor, a large glossy book open under her fingertips. She is motionless as she stares at me, taking in my wrecked and ruined appearance.
"Nothing," I snap, staggering down the hallway past her.
But Maria won't listen. Instead, she follows, pestering me with questions.
"What happened?" she insists.
Where's Dominika to take he
