So I turn my attention back to Ivan and watch him glide across the room. My anxiety spikes higher with every step. I’m not armed, so I grab a key from the ceramic bowl on the foyer table and hold it between my knuckles like I’m Wolverine. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.
There’s another thud and clatter from inside the closet. It sounds like something falls off one of the shelves.
Ivan hesitates outside the door for just a second before he yanks it open. “Who the f**k are you and what are you doing in my—”
His voice is lost in a chorus of shrieking. One male, one female.
Then Ivan jumps back with a scowl twisting his face. “For f**k’s sake! Put your ass away, Yasha!”
My heart is hammering from the anxiety and the noise, but I storm into the sitting room. “What?”
The close
