Hey guys, I hope you've had a good December! It's been a crazy few weeks for me, with four exams over the span of two weeks. Had a jam-packed day as I wrote my last exam in the morning, got packed and sorted for my trip, then edited this chapter as fast as I could (so it's probably not of the same quality as the other chapters I've posted - I honestly feel like it's kinda rushed). But I didn't want to leave you all hanging over the holidays so I decided to get this edited and posted (that way, it'd be done with and I wouldn't have to worry about it). If I have time later, I'll likely go back and edit this chapter better. Hopefully, it's pretty decent as it is!

Gonna reply to reviews on the previous chapter, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!

Guest13: Seems like your prediction is pretty close to what I've actually written (if I can remember all the details correctly)! I guess we'll see once I start posting the later chapter of On the Run :P Happy holidays to you too! I celebrate Christmas but I try to be non-denominational with my holiday greetings.

Potato: Lots of great scenes there, including a couple that I've really put a twist on in Alexei's POV! Stay tuned to find out ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Embassy Row series and all the characters (except for Tanner and Jordan, who are my own creations). They belong to Ally Carter. I am merely using her characters and plotline to create this fanfiction. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes and would not exist without Ally Carter's wonderful works.

The events that happen in this fanfiction are not meant to be representative of real life. Any similarities to any real-life events or fictional works is purely coincidental and not intentional (with the exception of the original Embassy Row books by Ally Carter since this fanfiction is literally See How They Run but from Alexei's, not Grace's, perspective). The character's actions may not always reflect my own opinions or views. Based on what happens or is mentioned in this chapter (spoiler alert), I do not condone physical violence, sexual assault, or abusive relationships.

Trigger warning: moderate
This fanfiction is rated T, for suggestive themes, language, and violence. This chapter contains mild to moderate language, physical violence, and mentions of alcohol, abusive relationships, and sexual assault. Read at your own discretion.

Chapter Fourteen: And All Hell Has Broken Loose

My father stormed out of his office, leaving nothing but the smell of cigarette smoke in his wake. I stared at the closed door in disbelief, unable to comprehend what my father had said to me. I knew I had disappointed him but was that enough to make him ashamed of me? However, my father's reputation meant so much to him, perhaps even more than me. Even little things that I had done, such as dancing with Grace, had supposedly ruined his reputation. With everything that had happened at the party and the way I had royally screwed up, surely, my father's reputation had to be on the line. Perhaps my father was right; my inability to control my emotions really had led to my downfall. After all, the fight with Spence, his subsequent death, and my murder accusation wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gotten so upset about Spence kissing Grace. Maybe I should have worked harder on controlling my emotions, like my father had suggested so many times. However, it was too late for that now. There was no way I could undo the fight and Spence's death, as much as I would have liked to. All I could do now was deal with the damage and find the best way to smooth things over.

I walked out of my father's office and headed back to my room. When I walked in, Tanner, Jordan, and Mikhail were all sitting silently. Tanner immediately stood up and gave me a hug. "It was bad." That was a statement, not a question.

"You have no idea," I muttered.

"Doesn't matter, we got you," Tanner said, before letting me go.

"I don't suppose your dad gave you any words of wisdom," Jordan commented.

"Nope. He basically told me to go to hell, but with more words. According to him, I messed up so it's up to me to decide what I want to do," I replied. Mikhail shook his head, clearly disapproving of my father's treatment of me.

"Looks like he's going for that whole 'control your own destiny' vibe," Tanner mused.

"In all honesty, I'm pretty sure my father has just given up on me and doesn't give a shit about what I do. He told me he was ashamed of me," I said, shuddering at the memory.

"Damn, bro, that's harsh," Jordan said sympathetically.

"Wouldn't your parent say that too if they found out you were accused of murder?" I said, a bit too harshly. "I deserve it though. I really messed up."

"Lyosha, please don't say that about yourself," Mikhail said. He pulled me into a comforting hug. "Things happen. It's not your fault."

"Shit happens," Jordan added. "If you're really looking for someone to point fingers at, blame the media for taking things out of proportion."

"Speaking of which, they're all wanting to talk to me," I said.

"Really?" Tanner exclaimed, like a child on Christmas Day. He rushed towards the window, eagerly looking out of it. "Damn, you weren't kidding, bro. Those crowds are freaking massive." My curiosity getting the better of me, I headed to the window. Tanner wasn't kidding. I spotted a sea of news reporters and even more mobsters, no doubt seeking vengeance for Spence's death. In their minds, an American citizen had died on foreign soil, supposedly at the hands of a Russian diplomat. There was every reason for them to seek vengeance.

"So are you going to talk to them?" Jordan asked, joining Tanner and I at the window.

"No way. Father's orders," I replied.

"Besides, it looks like your dad's doing a damn good job of scaring them all away," Tanner mused. Sure enough, my father was outside, at the centre of all the reporters. He was likely telling them about my diplomatic immunity. Yet, soon enough, I'd be the one out there, telling them what I had decided to do. That thought scared me. I had no idea how I was going to fix this mess but all I knew was that it would not go down very well. It would be nothing like my father's polished, poised speech he was currently feeding all the reporters. I wondered if he would lie about me or if he was going to speak the truth and only the truth. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if he slipped in a few deprecating lies here and there.

"Either way, you'll need to be careful out there, Alexei," Mikhail said, joining the three of us at the window.

"I will," I said. However, I had no idea how I was going to navigate my way through the next few days. All I knew was that I somehow had to stay alive.

"Despite everything you might say or do, it's not going to change their minds," Mikhail replied. "If anything, it'll only cause the mobs to protest more." He glanced down at the crowds gathered around the American embassy. Some of them were holding signs, others were screaming and making noise. Their end goal was the same though; they all wanted me dead, to avenge Spence's death.

"Well, if that's the case, I'll just leave before they start protesting for my death because I'm friends with Alexei. No offense, by the way," Tanner said. I just glared at Tanner, although I knew he didn't have bad intentions.

"Same here, bro," Jordan said. "The last thing I need is to be late to work because I got stuck in a crazy, death-avenging mob." He checked the time on his phone, suddenly becoming panicked. "Oh shit, my shift starts in 10 minutes. I gotta run. See you later."

"I'll take that as my cue to leave too. I'll text you," Tanner said. The two of them made their getaway, leaving Mikhail and I in my room.

"How are you feeling, after everything earlier?" Mikhail asked. I sat down on my bed, still unable to wrap my head around what my father had done to me in his office. Mikhail sat down next to me, not saying a word. I knew he was waiting until I was ready to talk, which I always appreciated. Sometimes, it was so hard to talk about my father because of the unbelievable things he did to me.

"I – it was awful," I managed to get out.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I just looked at Mikhail, who gave me a non-judgmental look. I recounted everything that had happened in my father's office, right down to the little details of how he had beat me up. When I finished, I looked down in shame.

"Lyosha, you're shaking." I didn't register anything, until Mikhail wrapped his arms around me. I instantly melted under his comforting touch. Had all the years of abuse I endured under my father finally caught up to me, now that my life was on the line? I thought of all the times I had held Grace when she was shaking, willing her to calm down from her mental breakdowns. Now I was the one in desperate need of comforting. It was odd how the roles had reversed.

"It's like… it's like my father doesn't care about me anymore. He didn't seem concerned about my fate at all." Mikhail pulled me close to him, his presence comforting me.

"I know, Lyosha," Mikhail said quietly, sadness in his voice. "But I care. I won't let you go through this alone, okay? Any decision you make, I'll support you." I just nodded, unable to say anything.

"Have I ever told you about the fights your father used to get into?" I looked up at Mikhail, surprised as to why he was bringing it up. He had mentioned it a few times but never went in depth.

"There was one fight in particular that really made your father's name and reputation," Mikhail continued. That got my attention. My father never mentioned much about his past to me.

"I had been with the Russian Special Forces for a few years. We had been stationed in Adria to investigate a government conspiracy and to help them cover it up." I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows in surprise. Adria was known to be the squeaky-clean, diplomatic nation. Of course, I should have known that it had a shady past to cover up too.

"I know what you're thinking, Lyosha." Mikhail looked right at me, as if he was reading my mind. "But that's besides the point. Anyways, one night, a bunch of us headed to one of the local bars for a few drinks. It was pretty busy but because we were newcomers, we attracted attention and landed prime seats.

"We were on an undercover mission but that didn't stop your father from wearing his military jacket. That caught the attention of many women in the room, including your mother. He flirted with many of them before eventually talking to Karina. He was quite taken with her right away and offered to buy her a drink. She was pretty shy and refused but that didn't stop your father from pursuing her. He kept talking to her and complimenting her. Back then, she had long, wavy, dark hair that went all the way to her waist. Your father was absolutely in love with that hair and wouldn't stop playing with it.

"Over the course of a few drinks, they had warmed up to each other. Karina had opened up and Sergei was getting flirtier, touching her arm and showering her with compliments. Unfortunately, that caught the attention of another man, who I initially presumed was one of Karina's exes or a casual fling. He marched right up to Sergei, demanding what he was doing. Since Sergei was a little drunk, he gave a snarky reply, before touching Karina's arm again and giving her another flirty look.

"Clearly, that wasn't what the man wanted to hear. He immediately pulled Karina away from Sergei's touch. He pushed her down onto the bar counter, knocking over glasses, and proceeded to kiss and grope her in public, like he owned her. It was a horrific sight. Almost everyone in the bar froze, not sure what to do. But not Sergei. He immediately leapt into action, pulling that man off Karina and throwing him onto the floor. Everyone gasped in horror. But that man just picked himself off the floor, swinging at Sergei and yelling about how Karina was his. That was all that was needed to start a fight, the two of them rapidly exchanging blows. Even though they were both drunk, it was clear that man was no match for Sergei. Your father was one of the best fighters in our unit. He was absolutely livid at that man for assaulting Karina in public and absolutely pummeled him.

"It didn't take Sergei long to break that man's nose then his wrist. I'm pretty sure he would have broken that man's arm or leg, or killed him, if the bar owner hadn't intervened, kicking them out for causing a scene. Many of the locals flocked to that man, to make sure he was okay, as he laid on the floor battered and bruised. Your father just scoffed at that man before walking out, his head held high. I followed Sergei out, to make sure he was okay. He was fine, aside from a few bruises and cuts.

"But what I didn't expect was for Karina to run out after us, to make sure your father was okay. She stopped us in our tracks, thanking your father for saving her. It turned out her parents had arranged for her to marry that man and he had been abusive towards her in the time they had been together. That night, Sergei invited her to stay with him. For the rest of our time in Adria, he was with her whenever he wasn't on duty. Their relationship blossomed very fast and when we went back to Russia, Karina came with us. I was surprised but deep down, I had predicted that, given how smitten they had been with each other. It wasn't long before they got married and then you came along," Mikhail finished, looking right at me. I looked in Mikhail in surprise, as I took this all in. I had never known how my parents had met but I never expected it to be like that. Maybe my father and I were more similar than I realized.

"Anyways, my point is, your father has gotten into public fights too, even to the point of threatening to kill the other man," Mikhail said, before he turned to look out the window. "Only thing is, back then, the Internet wasn't widespread yet and barely anyone had a cell phone. Not like today, where everyone has a smartphone. So even though your father may have done just what you did, or worse, there's no evidence of it, only the tales from the people who were physically there."

"If I were your father, I would have sat you down and talked this out, to help you get your way through this mess," Mikhail said, squeezing my shoulder. Once again, I wished Mikhail was my actual father. "Would you like to do that now?"

"Thanks for the offer. I think I'll be alright for now," I replied. Mikhail nodded in understanding. This was a decision I'd have to make on my own. I just needed the time to gather my thoughts before coming to a final conclusion.

"Of course. If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. You know where to find me," Mikhail said. I nodded my thanks, grateful that Mikhail was so understanding. He gave me one last smile before walking out of my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My mind was spinning and I knew I'd need a good amount of alone time to sort out my thoughts.

However, my growling stomach made me realize I had other priorities to deal with first. I walked down to the kitchen, grabbing a plate of leftovers. I also made myself an acai, pomegranate, and berry smoothie with a dash of protein powder, to refuel after my workout. I took my food over to one of the conference rooms on the second floor, hoping the change in environment and lack of distractions would help me process my thoughts better.

I sat down, taking in the gorgeous view of Valancia through the floor to ceiling windows of the conference room. From where I was, the mobs were almost invisible, their chants just a faint hum in the background. If I closed my eyes, for a second, I could think that they weren't there and that my life wasn't the wreck it currently was. I ate my food, without really tasting it. Even though I had been ravenous, I didn't have much of an appetite, thanks to everything that had happened with my father.

After eating, I started pacing, unable to sit still for long. Staying in one place wasn't helping me sort out my thoughts. Instead, it just caused them to build up, swirling around in my head. I peered out the windows, just barely see the mobs and the news reporters from where I was. My father likely would have told them about my diplomatic immunity earlier. That would prevent me from going through any questioning, even by the most specialized agents, as my father had said. There was no way that I could be arrested, unless I renounced my diplomatic status.

I suddenly stopped in my tracks, hit with inspiration. What if I gave up my diplomatic status, thus giving up my diplomatic immunity? Doing so would allow me to go through questioning and prove to the world that I was innocent. I had nothing to hide and had done nothing wrong. I wouldn't be able to share my side of the story or keep it real if I hid behind a veil of diplomatic immunity.

With my diplomatic immunity intact, the mobs would continue chanting and protesting, begging for vengeance for the unfair death of an American citizen. I would continue to be a target until I renounced my diplomatic status. If I did that, there was always the chance that I would be unable to regain my diplomatic status. However, that didn't really matter to me.

The more I thought about it, the more that renouncing my diplomatic status seemed like a good idea. I was sure that my friends were bound to disagree with me. After all, having diplomatic status was a privilege. It seemed counterintuitive to want to give it up. However, I had already messed things up so much; it only made sense for me to sacrifice myself to fix them and make everything right again. I didn't care if I had to renounce my diplomatic status, get arrested, or face banishment from Adria to do so. As long as the mobs decided that Spence's death had been avenged properly and my father and the Russian embassy gained their status and reputation back, then no one would care what happened to me after that. Therefore, it wouldn't matter if I renounced my diplomatic status and never got it back. I was prepared to lose it, if necessary. It seemed like an appropriate price to pay for losing control of my emotions and causing a very public, international incident. I had really messed up and it was only right that I got the appropriate punishment. Besides, it was the honourable thing to do. After all, this was Adria, where every little thing reflected back on the embassy. Therefore, I had to give up my own status and reputation, if it meant restoring my father's reputation and that of the embassy's.

As I paced in front of the windows, trying to sort out my thoughts, the streets had progressively been getting busier. With a start, I realized it was the start of the Festival of the Fortnight. Tonight was the bonfire at the palace, where all of Valancia would be gathered to watch the royal family set fire to the wreaths, the representation of the start of the War of the Fortnight.

When I spotted Grace, Megan, and Noah walking on the street, I had no doubts that they were heading to the bonfire. I wondered if they were thinking about me, wondering why I wasn't joining them. If they looked up, they would see me, watching, observing. I stared them down, hoping that would be enough of a telepathic message to get them to look my way. Unsurprisingly, Noah and Megan walked on. However, Grace turned back, looking right up at me. Had my telepathic message gotten through to her? Or maybe she had somehow known that I was up here. I stared down into her eyes, raising my hand at her. I wasn't quite sure what it was, not a wave nor a salute. If anything, it was a last goodbye to her, in case I had to leave Adria by renouncing my diplomatic status. It was my wish for her to stay safe, so that she wouldn't be caught in my downfall. She barely looked at me though, forcing her gaze straight ahead, like she was rejecting my wishes for her to stay safe. Then again, this was Grace. Of course she was going to get in more trouble, even if I willed her to stay out of harm's way. The only way she'd potentially listen to me was if I spoke to her in person. And if I had to leave Adria soon, then I might not get that chance ever again. I had to let her know what I was doing, before it was too late.

I quickly finished the last remains of my smoothie. I dropped my dishes off at the kitchen then headed back up to my room, to grab my phone and my wallet. Without a second thought, I snuck out through the back stairwell. I climbed over the wall and took a back route to the palace. The last thing I needed was for the mobs to catch sight of me and start attacking me, or for my father to catch me going out without his permission and beat me up for it. Yet, I doubted my father would have cared much about my whereabouts now. As far as I knew, he had pretty much given up all concern for me as soon as he saw that I was on international news.

I reached the palace just as the royal family was walking out, to collect the wreaths. I stood in a nearly deserted spot, trying to keep my head down and my eyes to myself. I regretted not bringing a hoodie or a baseball cap, something that could cover my eyes and my face. Belatedly, I realized I was still wearing my workout clothes and hadn't bothered to change or shower. I hoped I'd be able to find Grace and get home before anyone recognized me or worse, tried to hurt me.

I watched as the royal family carried the wreaths towards the palace, fascinated by the history and tradition behind the bonfire. This was probably the first year I had gone alone, letting me fully take everything in.

The king lit his wreath on fire. I was mesmerized by the way the fire moved and danced, eating up everything in its path and sending sparks into the night sky, turning it into an endless red and orange sea. The fires would create a massive bonfire, which according to Adrian tradition, would burn for fourteen days, corresponding to the fourteen days of the War of the Fortnight.

I was so caught up by the fire that I hadn't noticed the crowd dissipating around me. I quickly remembered why I was here in the first place. Grace. I had to find her and let her know I'd be renouncing my diplomatic status. I pushed my way through the crowd, keeping my eyes low. I tried not to look suspicious, as I scanned the crowd for her dirty blonde hair. I spotted Megan and Noah and started heading toward them. However, I suddenly realized Grace wasn't with them. I tried to push my way towards them but quickly lost sight of them as the crowd shifted around us. I heard fireworks going off in the distance but barely paid attention to them. I had to find Grace. I suddenly spotted her standing by herself, in the thick of the crowd.

"Grace!" I called out, trying to get her attention. She didn't seem to hear me, so I tried again. "Grace!" She turned to continue weaving her way through the crowd, allowing me a brief glimpse of her face. In that instant, I knew something was wrong. Was something scaring her, enough to trigger a mental breakdown? I had to get to her before she started losing it in the middle of the crowded street.

"Grace!" I forced my way through the crowd, not caring who I bumped into, even with the disgruntled groans behind me. Grace's safety was my utmost concern right now; I had to make sure she was alright. After what felt like an eternity of pushing through people, I finally reached her. I placed my hand on her arm, turning her away from the crowd and towards me.

"Grace, are you okay?" She looked up at me, the look on her face changed from panic to fear.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was getting ready to ask you the same question," I replied, with a shrug. "Where are Noah and Megan?" I looked around, hoping they would have doubled back after realizing Grace wasn't with them. Unfortunately, I didn't catch any sight of them.

"I'm not sure," Grace said, shaking her head. "We must have gotten separated and I … I was going home."

"Yes. We must get you home." I had to make sure she was back in the safety of the American embassy in case another mental breakdown hit.

"And you," Grace said, looking up at me, "You shouldn't have come, Alexei." I suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere. My name was all over international news; just one mention of it and people would go crazy. Like the man quickly approaching Grace and I. So much for not attracting attention to myself.

"Hey, I know you," he said. I had never seen him before but I knew what he wanted, just by the look in his eyes. Vengeance. He was drunk, which would only make him more violent. I had to get Grace and myself out of the streets, and fast. The police were on patrol, as they always were during the Festival of the Fortnight but there was no way anyone of them would be willing to help us out. If anything, they would just want to turn me in or take me in for questioning. It looked like Grace and I would be on our own.

I quickly reached for Grace's hand so I wouldn't get separated from her. She seemed to sense what I was thinking.

"Let's get out of here," Grace said to me in Adrian. I nodded and we started heading down the hill that led back towards the embassies. However, the man from before immediately blocked our path. I quickly turned, to find another way to get back to the embassies before realizing we had been surrounded. A couple of the men held torches, like they were ready to light Grace and I on fire.

"Well, what do we have here?" the drunk man asked. He appeared to be the ringleader of the group around us. His eyes suddenly landed on me, taking me in as if I was prey and he was the predator. "You're him." There was no question who he was referring to. The person who, in his eyes, had brutally attacked and murdered an American West Point cadet. I vaguely felt Grace pulling harder on my hand and saying something in Adrian but I couldn't register what it was. My eyes were fixed to the ringleader's, as he hungrily stared me down.

"It's the Russian!" another man shouted. Again, there was no question who he was referring to. As long as my name was still on international news, I would continue to be a target. I was suddenly shoved. I stumbled backwards, crashing hard into Grace.

"Grace, I'm so –" I started, the apology making its way out before I could stop it. However, I shouldn't have spoken at all. My accent was way too obvious, only furthering my identity as Spence's murderer. The mob quickly descended on Grace and I, not caring if either of us got hurt. I looked around frantically, trying to find a means of escape. Suddenly, I was hit hard in the face. I recoiled back hard, almost getting knocked off my feet. Just as I tried to recover, I got hit again, sending waves of pain throughout my body. As that same man lunged again for me, I forced myself into a fight stance, so I could get him down. Luckily, Grace came charging through, kicking that man in the knee and instantly bringing him down. I mentally thanked her and quickly turned my attention to the two men rapidly approaching me. I sent punches and kicks in all directions, trying to fight them at the same time.

"Grace, run!" I shouted, as I sent a hard punch to one of the men, knocking him down. I saw two more men approaching me out of the corner of my eye. I took a deep breath and focused my attention on the fight. My father had trained me well. I could only hope it would be enough to take down three men on my own. Unfortunately, Grace stayed put, fighting back against the men. Trust her to be stubborn and force her way right into trouble. I only wanted to protect her and keep her safe. As far as I knew, she didn't have any formal fight training. I didn't want that to hamper her and cause her to get hurt.

Suddenly, Grace froze mid-fight, like she was about to have another mental breakdown. My heart was telling me to go help her, to take her somewhere safe before her demons could overtake her. However, I had to focus on the fight in front of me.

Without warning, I felt a sharp stinging pain in my eye and my forehead. I looked up, only to see one of the men holding a torch with blood covering its end. I touched my forehead, feeling something wet and sticky, confirming my worst suspicions. I should have known not to get distracted. My brief pause was all that was needed for one of them to catch me by surprise. This was not going to end well. Yet, I forced myself to fight back, for Grace. I had to keep fighting, as long as it meant that she would be safe and out of harm's way.

Suddenly, I saw a face that seemed vaguely familiar. Was that Dominic … Novak? As I squinted at the face, trying to make it out, I felt a forceful kick to my shin, causing me to stumble. My ankle rolled the wrong way, sending a jolt of pain shooting up my leg. Clearly, I hadn't learned my lesson, as one of the men looked down at me, a knowing smirk on his face. My whole body ached and I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep fighting through the pain. I was finding it harder to concentrate on the fight because I was surrounded on all sides. Admittedly, I was starting to lose hope.

Just when I thought I wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer, a voice, like a saving angel, suddenly cut through the madness, ringing clear throughout the crowd. "Let him go!"

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be up between Jan. 5 and Jan. 12.

Who do you think is there to rescue Alexei? I feel like it's really obvious from the actual books :P Again, I went out on a limb with this chapter by adding a ton of things last minute (like the story of how Alexei's parents met), making it way longer than necessary. Hope you all have a good holiday and I'll see you in January! :)