"No arguments," she agrees, but I see the lie in her eyes. If it comes down to it, she'll do whatever she thinks will keep me alive, just like I'll do whatever it takes to protect her.
We're both idiots in love, and we're probably going to get each other killed.
But at least we'll die together.
I signal to Alexei, and he acknowledges with two clicks on the radio. My men are moving into position, surrounding the monastery, cutting off escape routes. But I'm not waiting for them to clear the building. Mikhail knows these old structures, knows how to disappear in the shadows. If we don't move now, we'll lose him.
I rise from behind the fountain, pulling Alina up with me. The courtyard is littered with bodies, both Mikhail's men and a few of mine. I see Borge directing the cleanup, his massive frame unmistakable even in the flickering torchlight.
We move toward the monastery entrance, my weapon raised, Alina pressed close behind me. The ancient wooden doors hang open, darkness yawning beyond them. Every instinct I've honed over forty-two years of survival is screaming that this is a trap.
But sometimes you have to walk into the trap to spring it.
We're three steps from the entrance when I hear it. A sound like distant thunder, but wrong. Too rhythmic. Too deliberate.
"Get back!" I shout, grabbing Alina and throwing us both to the side.
The explosion is massive.
The monastery's entrance erupts in a ball of fire and debris. The shockwave hits us like a physical blow, lifting us off our feet and slamming us into the cobblestones. My ears ring, my vision blurs, and for a moment I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel Alina's body beneath mine where I've covered her.
More explosions follow, one after another, tearing through the ancient structure. Mikhail has rigged the entire building with charges, and he's bringing it all down.
Stone and timber rain from the sky. A chunk of masonry the size of a car crashes down ten feet from where we're lying. The monastery's bell tower, centuries old, tilts and then collapses in a cloud of dust and destruction.
Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Alina screaming my name.
41
ALINA
The world is nothing but dust and chaos.
I can't see. Can't breathe. The explosion has turned the ancient monastery into a hellscape of crumbling stone and choking smoke. My ears ring from the blast, a high-pitched whine that drowns out everything else. I'm on my hands and knees on the cobblestones, coughing, trying to orient myself.
"Dimitri!" His name tears from my throat, raw and desperate. "Dimitri!"
The dust is so thick I can barely see my own hands in front of me. Panic claws at my chest. What if he was closer to the blast? What if he's buried under the rubble? What if I've lost him before I could tell him about the baby, before we could build the life we've been fighting for?
"I'm here." His voice cuts through the ringing in my ears, and then his hands are on me, solid and real. "I've got you, Alina. I'm right here."
Relief floods through me so intense it makes me dizzy. He helps me to my feet, his arm around my waist, supporting my weight. Through the settling dust, I can see his face, streaked with dirt and blood from a cut above his eyebrow. But his green eyes are focused, alert, scanning for threats.
"Are you hurt?" His hands move over me quickly, checking for injuries.
"I'm fine." I grip his tactical vest, needing the anchor of his presence.
He pulls me close for just a moment, his forehead pressed against mine. "We need to move. The whole structure is unstable."
Around us, the monastery is dying. Flames lick at what remains of the wooden beams. Stone walls that have stood for centuries are crumbling like sand. Through the smoke and dust, I can see Dimitri's men moving through the courtyard, securing the perimeter, checking for survivors among Mikhail's soldiers.
But Mikhail himself is nowhere to be seen.
"He's still inside," I say, the certainty settling into my bones. "He wouldn't run."
Dimitri's jaw clenches. "Then we finish this."
He pulls his weapon and moves toward a side entrance that's still partially intact. I follow without hesitation, drawing the small pistol he gave me before we left the estate. My hands are steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I've come too far, survived too much, to let fear stop me now.
