Meanwhile, I didn't look back as I walked out of that side door, one step at a time. The car Celine had arranged was parked in the shadows. The moment the car door was pulled open, the doors to the main hall behind me were flung open, and Nikolai's tall figure came charging out. Standing on the steps, he looked like a trapped beast, scanning his surroundings.But I had already gotten into the car, and it pulled smoothly out of the villa district. In the rearview mirror, his figure grew smaller and smaller until finally, he was nothing more than a blurred black speck. Nikolai appeared to pull out his phone. The very next second, the phone in my pocket began to vibrate frantically—over and over, persistent and desperate. I fished it out, took a look at the caller ID, and pressed the mute button. Beyond the window, the city's lights blurred past in endless streaks, like the world itself was seeing me off. By the time I arrived at the airport VIP lounge, I finally turned my phone
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