Fatally Yours

Chapter 31

•INDIANA•

I woke up feeling stiff and a little worn out, as if I'd spent the entire night running instead of sleeping. The hum of the jet engines had quieted, and I could feel the subtle shift as the plane touched down. Blinking groggily, I sat up and glanced around, trying to shake off the lingering exhaustion. 

Dominik was nowhere in sight. The seat he'd occupied across from me was empty, but Katarina was still here.

She was perched in her seat, dressed in a sleek black outfit I hadn't seen her in earlier, carefully applying makeup in the soft cabin lighting. Her movements were methodical, almost clinical, as though nothing in the world could rush her. 

The absence of Dominik gnawed at me. Ten minutes passed, and there was still no sign of him. Finally, I broke the silence.

"Where's Dominik?" 

Katarina paused mid-stroke, her eyeliner hovering in the air as she turned her head slightly, giving me a look that was both bored and icy.

"He's in the cockpit," she said flatly. 

I frowned, confused. "Why?" 

This time, she stopped completely, turning to face me fully. Her narrowed eyes fixed on mine, sharp and unyielding.

"Because he's flying the plane." 

The bluntness of her words made me blink.

"He's what?" 

Her lips curved into the faintest smirk, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"He got bored a few hours ago. Switched places with the pilot." With that, she turned back to the mirror, resuming her work as if the topic wasn't worth further discussion. 

The information caught me completely off guard. Flying the plane? My mind reeled at the idea, trying to reconcile the cold, calculating man I'd come to know with someone who, apparently, could just casually decide to take the controls of a private jet mid-flight. 

Dominik kept surprising me. Every time I thought I had him figured out, another layer appeared. I'd seen him wield a gun like it was an extension of his arm, sure, but this?

And then there was the archery incident—a memory that suddenly resurfaced. I'd seen him handle a bow once with such precision it could've made an Olympian jealous. 

And now he could fly planes? 

How many other talents did this man have tucked away, hidden beneath his carefully composed exterior?

It made me wonder just how deep his skill set ran—and what kind of life had shaped him into someone who could do all of this. 

Shaking my head, I turned back to the window, watching as the background blurred past. The more I learned about Dominik, the more questions I had. Questions I wasn't sure I wanted the answers to.

The plane had landed smoothly, yet unease settled in my chest, refusing to leave. I stared out the window at the airstrip in the heart of Romania.

I hadn't expected to leave the country so abruptly, not without informing the FBI about my movements. My stomach churned with the realization.

Did they know I was here? Could they track me? 

The FBI had their ways—satellite tracking, for one. I knew how it worked, at least in theory. Satellites could pick up heat signatures, vehicle movements, and even pinpoint the activity of specific individuals through advanced geo-spatial imaging.