“Yes.”
The music ends.
Then I see him—Luka at the edge of the floor, face hard and grim. He catches Roman’s gaze and gives the smallest shake of his head.
Roman goes absolutely still.
“Stay close.” His hand slides from my back to my elbow. “Don’t react.”
He crosses to Luka, and they speak for thirty seconds—too quiet to hear, too tense to be anything but bad news. Then Roman’s face goes completely blank.
He returns with steps that look casual but aren’t. His hand finds my elbow.
“We’re leaving.”
“What happened?”
“Not here. Smile. Wave to Vadim. Walk out like we just got bored.”
We move toward the exit while Vadim calls from the balcony: “Leaving so soon, nephew?”
Roman stops and smiles. “My wife is tired.”
“Of course.” Vadim’s eyes slide from Roman to me, and the weight of his attention makes my skin crawl. “Anya. You handled Polina beautifully tonight. I do hope we’ll have more opportunities to… talk. Just the two of us.”
“I’ll check my calendar,” I say flatly.
Roman’s hand tightens on my elbow.
The doors swing open, and December’s cold slams into my lungs—the kind of cold that bites straight through silk like the dress isn’t even there. My nipples harden instantly, goosebumps racing up my arms, and I’m shivering before we hit the second step.
Roman strips off his jacket without breaking stride and wraps it around my shoulders. The wool is still warm from his body, heavy with cedar and smoke. I pull it tight and breathe him in while my teeth chatter.
The black Audi idles at the curb. Luka’s behind the wheel with the engine running, his face lit blue by the dashboard glow, jaw set hard.
Something went very fucking wrong.
“Get in.”
I climb in, and he slides beside me, the door barely closed before Luka starts moving.
“Tell me.” I can barely breathe. “What happened?”
Roman stares out the window while Moscow blurs past.
“The office was empty. Safes cleared. Documents gone.” His voice sounds hollow. “Someone knew about the heist before Ash arrived. Someone cleared everything hours before. And they have him.”
My stomach drops. “Vadim knows.”
“Maybe. Or someone else is playing—someone who benefits from both Vadim and me bleeding.” His eyes find mine in the darkness. “Dmitri controls Chechen intelligence. He has informants in places even Vadim can’t reach.”
“You think Dmitri tipped off Vadim?”
“I think my cousin wants us fighting each other while he positions himself as the safe alternative.” His hand finds my jaw, thumb stroking once. “If Dmitri is playing both sides, I’ll cut his legs out from under him and leave him alive long enough to watch everything he built burn.”
“You think Ash will say our names?”
“Not if he loves Katya. We didn’t just start a war tonight,solnyshko.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “We walked straight into one that was already fucking waiting.”
