DIMITRI
Ikneel beside Alexei on the blood-slicked marble floor of the Popov foyer, my hands already checking for injuries. His chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and relief floods through me so intense, it's almost painful. He's alive.
"Alexei." I grip his shoulder, careful to avoid the bullet wound. "Can you hear me?"
His eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they find my face. He tries to sit up, and I help him, supporting his weight as he groans.
"Dimitri." His voice is rough, strained. "They took her. I tried to stop them, but there were too many."
"I know." I keep my tone calm, controlled, even though rage is burning through my veins like acid. "Tell me what happened."
Alexei touches the side of his head where blood has matted his hair. "Viktor's men. They came out of nowhere. I was watching the front entrance when they hit me from behind. When I cameto, they were dragging Alina out the back. She was unconscious. I think Viktor drugged her."
My jaw clenches so hard I hear my teeth grind. "Did you see where they took her?" I ask, though I'm already preparing for the worst. If Alexei doesn't know, we'll have to track them, and every minute that passes is another minute Alina is in danger.
"I heard them talking." Alexei's eyes meet mine, and I see the guilt there. He blames himself for this. "Before I passed out again. They said something about a cabin. Old hunting cabin in the woods, north of the city. Near the river."
Hope surges through me. It's not much, but it's something. A direction. A place to start.
"How many men?"
"At least six that I saw. Could be more." He tries to stand, and I help him to his feet. Blood soaks through his shirt from the shoulder wound, and he's swaying slightly. "I'm coming with you."
"No." I shake my head firmly. "You're going to the doctor. That wound needs attention."
"Dimitri—"
"That's an order, Alexei." I soften my tone slightly. "I need you alive and functional. Get patched up, then coordinate from the estate. I'll need backup if this goes wrong."
He wants to argue. I can see it in his face. But he's been with me long enough to know when I won't be swayed. He nods reluctantly.
I turn to Borge, who's standing nearby with three other soldiers. "Take Alexei to Doc’s. No hospitals."
Borge nods and moves to support Alexei. As they head toward the door, I pull out my phone and start making calls. I need men. Weapons. Vehicles. And I need them five minutes ago.
My first call is to Mikhail, one of my best trackers. "I need you to find an old hunting cabin north of the city, near the River. Kozlov soldiers are using it. I want coordinates in the next ten minutes."
"On it, Pakhan."
The next call is to Yuri, my weapons specialist. "Meet me at the estate. Bring everything. We're going to war."
As I stride out of the Popov house toward my waiting SUV, my mind is racing. The cabin could be anywhere in a fifty-mile radius. The woods north of the city are dense, full of old hunting lodges and abandoned structures. But Mikhail is good at what he does. If anyone can narrow down the location, it's him.
I slide into the driver's seat and grip the steering wheel, forcing myself to breathe. To think clearly.
Fear, raw and visceral in a way I haven't experienced since I was a young man fighting for survival in the streets. Fear that I'll be too late. That they'll hurt her. That I'll find her body instead of her alive and fighting.
And something else. Something deeper and more complicated that I don't want to name.
I've known Alina for less than a week. Five days since I pulled her from that burning church. Five days since she became myresponsibility, my problem, my… what? I don't have words for what she is to me.
She was supposed to be leverage, a pawn in the game between families. A way to salvage the alliance that Sergei's death destroyed.
But somewhere between the church and now, between her pulling a gun on me and her standing up to her father, between the taste of her lips and the fire in her green eyes, she became something more.
She became mine.
Not in the way Viktor owned her, like property to be traded. Not in the way Sergei would have owned her, like a trophy to display. Mine in a way that makes my chest tight and my hands shake. Mine in a way that makes me want to burn down the entire city to get her back.
