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has six names on it and we’d be immensely grateful if you could take a table with your name on it. Thank you so much, everyone. Let’s eat.”

Lev takes my hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. It was a pleasure to meet you. We’ll talk again after the dinner.”

As he guides me toward the red tables, I turn to see my parents. My father’s face is turning a ruddy pink while my mother is whispering to him, her hand on his chest.

I try to think that it could have been worse. But then again, the night isn’t over yet.

* * *

The dinner is flank steak with blue cheese, fried potatoes, and roasted veggies. The steak nearly melts in my mouth, incredibly tender and saturated with flavor. It’s almost good enough to make me forget that my life is falling apart around me.

Lev seems to barely notice how good the food is, seeming more focused on drinking than eating. He’s managed to keep up appearances as we talk to our four other tablemates—all generous donors like everyone else on the red side—but I can feel that his mind is elsewhere. His movements are slower and less deliberate than usual.

“Ally.”

I turn to see my father behind me and stand up, nearly tripping in my shoes.

“Dad,” I say. “Hi.”

“We need to talk for a moment,” he says. “Come outside with me.”

He starts walking away without waiting for my response. I turn to Lev. He takes a gulp of his drink, watching me over the edge of the glass.

“Should I go?” I ask him.

“He’s going to question you at some point,” he says. He smiles at Mr. Campbell and his secretary, who have switched their focus to our conversation. “Her father hates me,” he says to them, shrugging. “Unfortunately for me, he’s the chief of police, so if I’m arrested later, you’ll know why.”

Mr. Campbell laughs and his secretary follows suit.

I leave the ballroom. My father isn’t anywhere in the lobby, so I continue out the front doors. He’s lingering at the edge of the sidewalk—a man no longer certain where the boundary is.

“How could you go for someone like him?” my father demands as soon as I step up next to him. I open my mouth, prepared with a lie, but he spins around, his hand cutting through the air between us. “No, honestly, I don’t care about that. You need to end it now.”

He’s nearly shaking with anger. Lev and I had prepared ourselves, armed to the teeth with lies, but I wasn’t ready to see my father so upset.

I focus on the sidewalk edge. “You can’t decide these things for me anymore.”

“This isn’t a request, Ally. I’m telling you this because I care about you. He’s not a good person. You’re going to end it.”

He knows.

I form the words in my head—the “I love him” speech, the “I’m not a little girl” speech, the waterworks, if necessary. But that’s not what comes out.

“I don’t care what type of person he is,” my mouth enunciates. “He’s important to me. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”

He stares at me. I keep my gaze down as the seconds pass by.

“What is going on with you?” he says. “You keep this a secret from us, you bring him here without telling us, and now you’re blatantly disrespecting me?”

I turn around. “I can’t talk to you until you’ve calmed down—”

My father blocks me from going back to the hotel. “He’s deeply involved in the Bratva.”

My breath gets caught in my chest, which is lucky because my anxiety must resemble shock as my father nods at me.

“We don’t have any proof, but we’re certain he’s powerful within the Russian Bratva. I don’t know what his plan is by dating you, but I don’t need to know anything. You just need to get into a car right now and leave. I’ve already called a car service.”

“I’m not—I can’t leave,” I say. It looks like Lev’s proposal scenario might not play out like we thought and I don’t know what will happen to our deal if his plan doesn’t work—likely Jeffrey Douglas’ death will come out and the fallout will be dire.

“Why not?” my father demands.

I wish I could say that my only motivation is covering up Douglas’ death, but another side of me sees us married and it’s not the worst circumstance. It paints me in a bad light. Ethical Ally, shacking up with a criminal. What a shitty person I must be, willing to let every heart break to pursue my lust.

“Because I don’t believe you,” I lie. I see the shock on his face. It gives me enough of an advantage to open the hotel door and slip back in. I rush back into the ballroom, the dress feeling restrictive now.

I go to a corner, trying to catch my breath. The backs of my ankles hurt from my shoes rubbing against them, but the pain grounds me. I close my eyes tight, resting my forehead against the wall.

Get up. Let’s see if your high horse protects you, Jeffrey’s voice whispers in my ear. I have no moral standing anymore. I traded it all for a hot touch and a filthy night with a beast.

I let my clutch fall to my feet. I picture it being my bag instead and witnessing the pepper spray fall out. I recall grabbing it, thoughtlessly spraying Jeffrey in the face.

I see his head jolt back. I hear his screams, like metal scraping metal. He rubs his eyes, but it only makes it worse. He’s coughing. He’s choking. He’s falling onto his knees. His hands are clenched. His face is red. His hands are limp. All color fades from his skin.

His dead hand is on me. It’s grabbing me, trying to pull me down to hell with him. I try to shake it off, but it grabs me harder. It pulls me toward him.

But his chest is Lev’s chest, which I could recognize anywhere.

I open my eyes. Lev’s face comes into

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