Every second without her feels like an eternity, a de digging deeper into my chest.
This is on me. I caused it all. If I hadn’t locked her up, she wouldn’t have had to run. She would’ve been safe.
But now she’s out there, in danger, and I don’t know where the hell she is. I’ve been hunting for her alone, using every resource at my disposal, keeping it quiet from my brothers. But she’s vanished.
The SUV she stole? Abandoned in the middle of nowhere. No cameras, no trace. She’s smart. Of course she is.
Teeth clenched, I fight to control the storm raging inside me. Finding her is the only thing that matters now before it’s toote.
Her face won’t leave my mind. The way she looked at me, that raw vulnerability in her eyes when she spoke about her brother. And like a bastard, I walked away. Left her alone when she needed me most.
My phone buzzes, ripping me out of my thoughts. I grab it from the cupholder, my fingers tightening around it as the screen lights up with a text from an unknown number.
When I read it, my blood boils. Tires screech as I rev the engine while two of my men trailing in a separate SUV try to catch up.
The message contains a photo. Of her.
Emilia.
Her eyes are shut, face pale. It’s clear she’s been drugged. The words beneath the photo burn into my mind.
Unknown
If you ever want to see her alive,e alone.
“Blyat! Net!” Fuck! No!
A primal growl rips from my chest, my fist mming into the wheel with enough force to rattle my bones. My vision narrows as my eyes lock on the address.
“I’m going to fucking tear your heads off!”
But then a thought shreds through me.
What if they’ve already killed her? What if this is all just a trap, luring me to the same fate? She and our baby could be gone, and I’ve been sitting here, useless, unable to save them.
I should’ve told her what she really meant to me. That I was falling in love with her. But I said nothing, and now it might be toote.
I don’t know how long I’ve been driving, but when I pull up a few yards from the address they gave me—a house in the middle of nowhere—I don’t see any bodies. Just two sedans sitting in the driveway.
With a gun in hand, I step out first. My men follow close behind, every nerve in my body on fire, ready to destroy anything that makes a sound.
We move cautiously, checking corners, scanning for any signs of life. But there’s nothing. No one.
Where the hell are you, lubov moya?
As we creep toward the back of the house, a bullet cracks through the silence, and a feral smile twists across my face.
So it’s like that.
They want a fucking party? Good. I’ve been starving for one.
I whip around, scanning for the source, but before I can fire back, another bullet hits one of my men in the chest. Blood bursts out, sttering against the ground as he drops, dead before he even hits the dirt.
“Come out and fight like men!” I roar, releasing a few rounds toward the shadows, but no one shows themselves.
Another shot rings out. This time, it strikes my second man in the head, and he crumples.
They have a fucking sniper.
My rage res, burning hotter, and I know what I need to do. Time to call my brothers. My fingers dig into my pocket for my phone, eyes still darting across the area, trying to pinpoint where the shots areing from.
The phone rings when I dial Aleksei’s number. But before I can hear a single word, a tear gas grenade explodes near me, the air thick and suffocating.
My phone slips from my grip, the world around me turning hazy as my lungs burn with every breath. I stagger forward, swinging wildly, fighting through the thick cloud that clings to me, but my legs are like stone, dragging me down. My chest tightens, the weight of it crushing me, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp pain sears through my neck, and everything goes ck.
Thest thing I see before everything fades is Emilia.<hr>
EMILIA
I sent a text to Aleksei, telling him where I’m going and why. I know they’ll be here soon, but I can’t just sit around and wait for that to happen. For all I know, the DeLucas could be killing Konstantin right now.
The thought of losing him, of never feeling his arms around me again, of never hearing him call me “katyonak” or any of the other pet names he’s given me…it’s a pain I can’t bear to even entertain.
I want to see him again so badly, but the fear that I’ll walk in and find him dead keeps gnawing at me. It twists inside me like a knife.
I have to save him. I will save him. I won’t let him die.
Parking a few streets away, I make sure they don’t see my vehicle. Because as soon as they do, they won’t hesitate to shoot me down.
As I slip out of the car, my sneakers hit the pavement with a soft thud. A gun rests tucked into my waistband, another secured in the holster around my ankle. I’ve never been more ready for a fight, yet the fear of the unknown presses against me.
The colonial house looms ahead,pletely unassuming, as I pull my gun free, keeping it low, my fingers wrapped tight around the grip. Each step is calcted, the air heavy with unease, every sound amplified as I move behind the cover of trees in the back, praying they don’t see me.
Maybe they even assumed I wouldn’t show up. That Konstantin means nothing to me. But I’m here, and I will take everything from them.
I reach the corner of the house, ttening myself against the stone wall. Every inch of me is strung too tight, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Taking deep, controlled breaths, I cinch my fingers around the gun.
When I get near a window, I freeze. Voices drift through the ss, low and muffled. I push my back harder into the cold stone, every nerve on edge.
Time seems to slow, each second heavier than thest. I’m so damn close now. The electric hum of imminent danger pulses in my veins, the taste of it sharp on my tongue. One wrong move, one sound, and it’s over.
Approaching the back door, I test the handle. It turns with a soft click. I can’t help the dark smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth.
Well, they do say criminals are stupid…
The door parts inch by inch, barely a whisper, letting the cold air rush in. I hardly feel it, too focused on the low sounds inside: the faint crunch of someone chewing, the click of a TV remote, the steady hum of a conversation. There are at least three men.
I move silently, step by step, across the threshold. The smell of stale air and cheap beer fills my nose. Suppressing the urge to gag, I keep my eyes on the figure sitting on the couch, the back of his head my only view. He doesn’t notice me. His eyes are glued to the TV,pletely oblivious to the fact that his life is about to end.
Creeping behind him, I already have the knife in my free hand, and with one clean slice across his throat, he doesn’t even know what hit him. Before he can react, blood gushes from him, quickly soaking through his shirt and dripping down onto the couch as he falls limp.
I back away with hushed footfalls, knowing getting rid of the others will be more challenging. Wiping the blood on my pants, I flip the knife closed and slip it back into my pocket, praying they’re actually keeping Konstantin here.
Moving silently toward the others, my body blending into the shadows, I’m consumed not by fear, but by an icy hunger for vengeance.
I sneak a nce around the corner, careful to stay out of sight. One man rummages through the microwave, mming the door shut with a sharp bang that echoes, while the other lounges at the table, sipping from a ss, his attention elsewhere.
“You think the bitch isn’t showing up?” one of them says, his voice thick with a mixture of boredom and anticipation.
“I don’t see her. Do you?” The other man snickers.
As soon as he starts walking out of the kitchen, my heart rate spikes, adrenaline flooding my veins. Instinctively, I hold myself against the wall just out of sight as his footsteps grow louder, drawing nearer.
I stay perfectly still, listening to the sound of him moving past me, barely inches away. When the footfalls finally fade, my heart ms against my ribs.
Every second feels like an eternity. The quiet stretches on, broken only by the soft clink of ss and the low hum of the microwave. When I hear him return to the table, I slip back into motion.
Crouching low, I use the counters to provide me with a shield as I edge closer. All I need is two clean shots, and they’re done.
When I inch forward, I see him.
Oh God. Konstantin.
Panic hits me like a freight train, my chest seizing, the pressure crushing my lungs.
He looks just like he did in the photo they sent, but also somehow worse. Slumped in the chair, his body is so still, it’s almost as if he’s not even there. His arms are still bound behind him, his head hanging forward—a lifeless rag doll draped in the chair.
For a moment, I can’t breathe. The fury that crashes through me is violent, almost desperate. It ignites something inside me, something visceral.
They’ve done this to him. And they will pay for it.
My anger is now full-blown rage. They don’t know it yet, but their time is running out.
The moment I step into their line of sight, they’re finished. In seconds, I get to full height, firing a clean shot into the first man’s head, and before the other one even realizes what happened, he’s dead on the floor too.
Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. But I’m sure more wille. I need to get him out of here.
As soon as I rush toward Konstantin, I kneel in front of him, needing him to be alive so damn badly. I cup his face with one hand, the fingers of my other on his pulse. When I feel it, a rush of a breath leaves me, emotions clogging my throat.
He’s alive. He’s gonna be okay.
“Baby, wake up. I’m here.” I shake him, hoping whatever they gave him starts to wear off.
Removing my knife, I cut off his zip ties, setting him free.
“Konstantin, please…I need you to wake up now.”
“Emilia?” he groans, and relief hits me instantly. His eyes flicker, slowly opening. “Are you okay? The b-b-baby?”
Oh God, he knows. How?
I nod, my thumb running across the stubble of his jaw. “We’re both okay. I’m going to get you out of this.”
“I-I love you, Emilia.”
The words hit me like a wave, crashing into my chest, and I choke back a cry.
He loves me?
When his eyes meet mine, hazy but full of something so real, I feel it. Deep in my soul, I feel the truth of his words. It’s more than just the words—it’s everything behind them. The sincerity, the rawness, the weight of everything we’ve been through together.
My hands tremble as I cup his face, pulling him closer, kissing him with everything I have. My heart is overflowing with love, with every emotion I can’t quite articte.
“I love you too, stupid.”
The kiss lingers, a desperate need to feel him, to have him know how much he means to me. How much we mean, despite everything.
He manages augh, soft and pained, his voice barely there. “That’s so romantic.”
Even through the fog of the drug that clouds his mind, his gaze sharpens for a split second.
“You-you put yourself in h-h-harm’s way for me again. I should punish you for this.”
“But you won’t.” My lips hover near his ear, my breath warm against his skin. “Or you will, and I’ll like it,” I tease, trying to inject some humor into the moment, or maybe just to quiet the anxiety churning in my stomach.
His hand reaches up to touch my face, his fingers grazing my skin like he’s memorizing the feeling of me.
“You are everything to me, lubov moya,” he whispers. “I will love you until my heart gives out, and even then, I-I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”
And before I can suppress it, my eyes well with tears. “I’m really d we’re expressing our feelings and all that, but right now, we need to get out of?—”
A sudden creak grabs my attention, my pulse jumping to my throat.
The rest happens in a blur. One second, I’m standing in front of Konstantin, and the next, he’s attempting to push me out of the way, but he’s not strong enough.
“Look out,” he tries to shout, but the wordse out small.
As I turn, a man stands at the threshold, a gun drawn at me. And all the blood rushes out of my body.
Because I recognize him.
No, I know him.
What the hell is going on?
“What are you doing? Lower the fucking gun and help me!”
I wait for him to say something, anything that would exin what is happening and why he’s not helping me.
Instead, he lowers the weapon just slightly, his eyes meeting mine with a hint of something like regret. Or maybe it’s resignation. The expression on his face almost makes me feel…sick.
“It was never supposed to be like this, Em.” He grabs the back of his neck. “Why couldn’t you just stay out of it? Mind your own damn business? But no, you had to go snooping, stir up a ho’s nest. And now I have no choice.”
No.
Nonono!
It can’t be!
“What the fuck are you talking about, Nate?”
But I already know. I just need confirmation that he is part of whatever is going on.
“Don’t touch her, you motherfucker!” Konstantin growls, as if a surge of raw power has just coursed through him.
My body instinctively moves toward him, but the gun stays trained on me. My mind races, trying to understand how I missed it.
Am I really this blind, or are they just that good? How long has Nate been involved in whatever this is? And what exactly is he here to do?
His gaze doesn’t waver, but something in his eyes shifts. It’s almost as if he’s torn, like he’s making a decision he’s not even sure he wants to make.
“I don’t know what you’ve done, but you need to put that gun away before you do something you’ll regret.”
“I don’t have a choice anymore, Em. You did this to yourself.” He says it like he believes it, like he truly has no other option.
Then he fires.