I stare at him, weighing my fury against the logic in his tone. Finally, I sigh, the tension in my shoulders refusing to loosen completely, but I follow. Roman laughs again, loud and unbothered, as if we’re just two men strolling through Athens instead of heading into a war that could very well cost lives.
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist the pull of that confidence. I glance at Mikhail. “Go home,” I say. “Watch Sasha. Make sure she doesn’t get any ideas about wandering into trouble while I’m gone.”
Mikhail raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. “Understood,” he says, his tone neutral but with a hint of approval for the trust I’m placing in him.
I nod once and turn to Roman. “Let’s go.”
He smirks, already anticipating the chaos I’m trying to avoid. “Finally. About time you let someone pull you out of your bunker.”
Chapter 23 – Sasha
I wake to the familiar emptiness of the bed beside me. Lev’s side is cold, the sheets rumpled where he was. I tug one of his sweatpants over my hips and push myself up.
The house is quiet, too quiet. I slip out of the bedroom, padding softly on the cool floor, searching for him.
His study door is closed. I press my ear to it. Silence. Not even the faint hum of his laptop.
“Lev?” I whisper, my voice barely carrying. No answer.
A shiver runs down my spine, part worry, part irritation. He’s always gone before me sometimes, but this…this feels different.
I push the study door open. Empty. His chair is neatly tucked in, laptop closed. My pulse quickens.
I check the library, the kitchen, even the terrace—every corner of the villa. Nothing.
Finally, I stride to the front door and stop the nearest guard. “Have you seen Lev?” My voice edges into panic.
He glances at me, then straightens. “Yes, miss. He left with Mikhail and Roman.”
I blink, processing it. “Left? Where?”
The guard shakes his head. “Didn’t say. Just left a few minutes ago.”
I bite my lip, frustration and worry twisting inside me. Gone again, and I have no idea what he’s walking into—or what he’s planning.
I exhale slowly, shoulders slumping. The villa feels too quiet without him. Against every warning from Lev and Mikhail, I find myself wandering into the courtyard.
The cool afternoon air hits my face, and I try to steady my racing thoughts. I know I shouldn’t be out here—every instinctscreams that I’m breaking the rules—but I can’t bring myself to go back to the suite. Not when he isn’t here.
I pace along the stone path, my fingers brushing against the carved balustrade. The gardens are immaculate, the fountains gurgling softly, but none of it soothes the tight coil of worry in my chest. Being outside—still within the villa’s walls—feels like the only thing I can do to keep my mind from spinning entirely out of control.
The serenity shatters in an instant.
Two men are suddenly on me, their hands like iron bands around my wrists and upper arms. Shock steals my voice for a fraction of a second before fear takes over. I kick, claw, scream, but it’s useless. Their strength is unnatural, terrifyingly precise, and it sends waves of panic through me that I’ve never felt before.
“Let me go! Get off me!” I shriek, but my words are swallowed by the roar of the courtyard and the thundering of my own heartbeat. I twist, I punch, I try to bite—anything—but they are relentless, like predators, their movements too fast, too exact.
A rough shove sends me tumbling backward. The cold asphalt scrapes my palms as I try to rise, and before I can even gather my wits, I’m yanked into a waiting black SUV. The door slams with a finality that makes my chest tighten. The engine growls, and the vehicle lurches forward.
Inside, it’s dim, suffocating, the smell of leather and something metallic in the air. My hands press against the seat, my nails digging into the fabric as my mind races. I press my face to the glass, but all I see is the villa shrinking in the distance, my safe haven disappearing with every heartbeat.
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away. I try to focus, to think, to plan an escape, but terror has a way of eating reason alive. My fingers clutch at the edge of the seat, knuckleswhitening, and I feel the raw, sharp edge of helplessness like ice through my veins.
And then, beneath the helplessness, a single thought slices through the chaos:I disobeyed him.
Lev had told me not to leave the suite, not to wander. And now, here I am, trapped, powerless. I had thought the courtyard was safe, that I wouldn’t be walking far, but my reasoning feels so childish now. I should have listened. I should have stayed put.
I slump against the seat, wishing I could rewind time, wishing I’d stayed behind. Shame and fear curl together in my chest, tighter than any restraints these men could put on me. I feel small, foolish, and entirely responsible for what’s happening.
