Summary:

“Shane, shit, don’t look now.” Rose says. “Paparazzi?” Shane guesses. They’d been on them for weeks. He was no stranger to some pictures here and there, but being with Rose was different. She couldn’t walk down the block without someone shoving a camera in her face. He hoped they hadn’t followed them here. He didn’t want to be at this club and he definitely didn’t want to be photographed. “No,” Rose says. Something in her tone makes Shane turn. It’s not worry exactly, but something in that family, a pace to the left. Concern? Trouble? He tries to follow her eyes, tries to catch what she sees. It’s no use. He doesn’t see until it’s too late. “It’s Ilya Rozanov.”