"Stay here," he says. "No matter what you see on those monitors, no matter what you hear—stay here. Promise me."
"I promise."
He cups my face in his hands and kisses me one more time. Then he's gone, the heavy door sealing shut behind him.
I'm alone.
I sink into the chair in front of the monitors and watch the feeds—guards patrolling, lights sweeping the perimeter, the estate holding its breath.
My hand drifts to my stomach.
"It's just us now," I whisper to the life inside me. "Let's hope your father comes back."
The war is here. And all I can do is wait to see who survives it.
Chapter 20 - Misha
The estate holds its breath.
I stand in the command center, running final checks on the tactical display. Alexei is at my shoulder, monitoring communications. Yevgeni Lenkov—head of internal security for the past twenty-two years—works the secondary console, his weathered face lit by the glow of the monitors. He's been with the family since before I was born, a quiet, methodical man who knows every inch of this estate's security systems.
Dmitri's men are integrated with my own, a seamless defensive force spread across the grounds. We've done everything right—fortified the weak points, established overlapping fields of fire, prepared contingencies for every scenario we could imagine.
It won't be enough. It's never enough.
My eyes drift to the feed from the basement corridor. The safe room door is sealed, Bianca and Anna locked inside together, with Petrov stationed outside—one of my most trusted men, a decade of service, utterly reliable. I argued with Anna for twenty minutes before I gave up—she refused to leave, refused to do anything sensible. In the end, I put her in the safe room with Bianca, figuring at least they could keep each other calm.
Or drive each other crazy. With Anna, it could go either way.
I can't see inside the room itself—no cameras there, a security feature that now feels like a flaw—but I can see Petrov on the corridor feed, standing at attention beside the door, his weapon ready. That's something. That's enough.
"Interior is locked down," Lenkov reports, his voice calm and professional. "All access points secured. Secondary safe room on standby if needed."
"Good." I nod without looking away from the monitors. "Keep the internal channels clear. I want to know immediately if anyone breaches the house."
"Understood."
I should have told Bianca more. Should have found better words for what she means to me, for what I'm fighting to protect. But words have never been my strength. Violence is my language, and tonight I'll speak it fluently.
"Movement on the south perimeter," one of the teams reports. "Three vehicles approaching. No headlights."
I lean forward, studying the thermal imaging. Three SUVs, moving fast, cutting across the fields toward the estate's weakest approach.
"Hold positions," I order. "Let them commit."
The vehicles stop a hundred meters from the wall. Doors open. Men pour out—more than three vehicles should hold, which means they were packed tight, which means this is just the vanguard.
I key my radio. "Petrov, status."
"All secure, sir. No movement down here."
"Keep it that way."
"Yes, sir."
One less thing to worry about. Bianca and Anna are safe. Petrov won't let anything through.
"Contact," the south team reports. "Engaging."
