“What are you thinking?” Barbara asked, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.
“That I’m the luckiest bastard alive.” I pulled her closer, needing her warmth, her reality, her presence. “That somehow, against all logic and probability, I found you. And you chose me.”
“Of course I chose you.” She said it like it was obvious. Like there’d never been any other option. “You’re mine, Kirill Petrov. Have been since that first dance. I just didn’t know it yet.”
“Mine,” I agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m yours. Completely. For better or worse.”
“We got the worse part out of the way early,” she joked, but there was truth underneath. “It’s all uphill from here, right?”
I wanted to promise that. Wanted to guarantee smooth sailing and happy endings and nothing but joy from this point forward. But I’d never been good at lying, especially not to her.
“We’ll face whatever comes,” I said instead. “Together. You and me against the world.”
“And our baby.” She placed my hand on her stomach, where the slight swell was just beginning to show. “The three of us.”
“The three of us,” I repeated, and the weight of that responsibility settled over me like a mantle. Heavier thananything Vladimir had ever asked of me. More important than any mission or promise or obligation.
This was my family now. My wife. My child. My responsibility to protect and cherish and keep safe from all the darkness that wanted to destroy them.
And I would. No matter what it cost. No matter what promises I had to break. No matter how many ghosts I had to face.
Sebastian Davis’s days were numbered. I’d already set things in motion—Timur hunting his connections, Andrei tracking his money, my own skills deployed to find every digital footprint the bastard had left. It was only a matter of time before we found him.
And when we did, when I finally had him in front of me—I was going to make him pay for every moment of fear he’d inflicted on Barbara. Every tear. Every nightmare. Every second she’d spent believing she was alone.
But that was tomorrow’s problem. Tomorrow’s mission. Tomorrow’s violence.
Tonight was about this. About Barbara safe in my arms, her breathing evening out as sleep claimed her. About the peace on her face that I’d helped put there. About the future we were building in defiance of everyone who said we couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t survive.
Chapter 21 – Barbara
The morning had started perfectly.
I stood barefoot in Kirill’s massive kitchen—our kitchen now, I reminded myself, still getting used to the idea—watching sunlight stream through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Chicago skyline. The scent of fresh espresso mixed with the vanilla candles I’d lit earlier, creating an atmosphere that felt domestic and peaceful in a way I’d never experienced before.
I was happy. Actually, genuinely happy. The kind of happiness that didn’t feel like a mask I had to wear or a performance I had to maintain. The kind that came from waking up next to my husband, from feeling the slight swell of my stomach where our baby grew, from knowing I was safe and loved and—
My phone buzzed on the counter.
I reached for it automatically, expecting Hailey or Cassandra with some question about our coffee date this morning. They were coming over, had insisted on a ‘girl’s morning’ to check on me after the wedding chaos.
But it wasn’t Hailey’s name on the screen.
It was Sebastian’s.
My blood turned to ice as I read the message.
You have 48 hours. Or the world sees your video.
The words blurred as my vision swam. My chest tightened as if someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribs and pulled them tight.
My throat went dry. Breathing became difficult—each inhale too shallow, each exhale too fast. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the peaceful sounds of the morning, replacing them with the thunder of panic.
Forty-eight hours. Two days. And then everyone would see. Everyone would know. The video would be everywhere, social media, news sites, sent to my father’s business associates, to Bratva members, to anyone and everyone Sebastian could reach.
Two days until my life ended.
I forgot about the coffee. Forgot about the vanilla candles and the perfect morning light. Forgot everything except the message on my phone and the way my hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it.
