She stared at Lu Zihao, disbelief etched into every line of her expression. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, so loud it drowned out everything else. Thoughts exploded inside her mind, colliding, shattering, reforming into nothing coherent.
Was it really possible that he could be…?
"Eh? Why are you speaking Russian?" Han Lin asked, bewildered. "And who's Veronika?"
As a Systema instructor, Han Lin understood basic Russian, but Lu Zihao had spoken too quickly, too fluidly. The meaning slipped past him like smoke.
Lu Zihao didn't even glance in his direction. His gaze never left Elena.
His posture was still relaxed, almost lazy, as if he were lounging in his own home. But his eyes were deep, unfathomable, like an abyss that had suddenly opened beneath her feet.
