He’s using my distraction to get to them. It’s exactly what I would do.
"Boss, we have a problem," Alexei's voice crackles over the comms. "They breached the service entrance with explosives. The route to the panic room is blocked."
"Where are you now?"
"Main hallway, second floor. Hannah has Mila. We're moving toward the west staircase but there are hostiles between us and the exit."
I'm already running, leaving Andre to coordinate the exterior defense. Every second counts. Every moment Hannah and Mila are exposed is another chance for everything to go wrong.
The house is chaos. Smoke, gunfire, shattered glass crunching underfoot. I take the stairs three at a time, following the sound of Alexei's weapon firing in controlled bursts.
I round the corner and see them.
Hannah has Mila pressed against her side, shielding the child with her own body. Alexei is ahead of them, engaging two attackers who've made it to the second floor. And coming up the west staircase—the route they need to take—is another man in tactical gear, his weapon raised and aimed directly at my daughter.
Hannah sees him the same moment I do.
Without hesitation, she steps between the attacker and Mila, raising the gun I taught her to shoot. The weapon looks too big in her hands, but her stance is solid, her grip correct. Everything I taught her.
She fires.
The shot hits the attacker in the chest, and he goes down hard. Hannah fires again, taking the head shot and making sure he is not a threat. I feel something shift in my chest—pride mixed with terror mixed with love so fierce it threatens to overwhelm everything else.
"Go!" I shout, and they move.
Alexei leads the way down the stairs, clearing each corner with military precision. Hannah keeps Mila close, one hand clutching the girl, the other still holding the pistol. My daughter is crying but silent, trained by years of drills to stay quiet during emergencies.
I cover their retreat, dropping two more attackers who try to follow. The sounds of battle are everywhere—below us, around us, the entire estate turned into a warzone.
But my family is moving toward safety, and that's all that matters.
"Garage," I order Alexei. "Get them in an SUV and ready to move. If the estate falls, you drive and you don't stop."
"Understood."
I watch them disappear around the corner, every instinct screaming at me to follow. I have to fight the urge to stay with them and personally ensure nothing touches them. But I'm needed elsewhere. The battle isn't over. If I don't coordinate the defense, we'll lose everything.
Hannah looks over her shoulder at me. I see what she doesn’t say.
She’s demanding I stay alive.
“Go!” I shout again.
The panic room is no longer an option. I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again, but I know they will be safe. Alexei will make sure of it.
"Status report," I demand over the radio.
"East wall secure," Mikhail responds. "All hostiles neutralized or retreating."
"West wall is holding," Sergei adds. "They're pulling back."
"North perimeter clear. They're regrouping near the main gate."
“Sergei, Mikhail, change of plans, Alexei handled the girls. You’re with me.”
I make my way to the front of the house, where I have the best view of the battlefield. Bogdan's attack is falling apart. His men are either dead, wounded, or retreating. The element of surprise is gone, and now they're discovering what I've known all along—my men are better trained, better positioned, and more motivated.
They're not fighting for power or ambition. They're fighting for family.
