ARCHEON would reclaim their yacht, their files, their illusions of power. Let them.
For now, we had the open sea.
And I had her.
CHAPTER 16
Kara
The water off the coast of Dubai was warmer than I expected.
It hit me like a soft caress on my ravaged body, immediately washing away whatever pride or irritation I’d been clinging to on that yacht. The salt was irritating, but I kept moving, my arms cutting through the waves, my breath calm and measured. I looked back a few times, atErebus, at Dmitri, and at the life I’d just walked—or rather, dove—away from.
ARCHEON’s yacht was heading away from us back toward the harbor. Every kick of my legs carried me further from it, from the last tether of control they had over me.
They’d built me, in their way. Trained me. Used me. Owned me.
And now, with every stroke, I was stealing myself back.
The sea splashed in my ears, but my thoughts were louder.
This was madness. I’d chosen the Markovs—three men who lived by rules written in blood and silence—over the faceless empire that had kept me alive this long. ARCHEON might have been cold, manipulative, and even cruel, but they were predictable. The Markovs were anything but.
And yet, for the first time in years, I wasn’t doing what I was told.
I was doing what I wanted.
I glanced to my right. Dmitri was a few yards away, still fully clothed, his strong arms pulling him through the water. The set of his shoulders was pure command, even here, even now.
Of course, he’d turn a swim for survival into something that looked like he was completely in control of everything going on.
He caught me looking, and for half a second, a challenge sparked between us.
“Keep going,” he called out, like even the sea would obey him.
“I can go all day; can you?” I shot back.
The lights of the city glowed ahead of us. My arms ached, my throat burned, but the shoreline was growing clearer. We seemed to be aiming for an uneven stretch of sand and stone ahead. It looked wild, abandoned, the kind of place where rules didn’t reach. Perfect.
By the time we dragged ourselves onto the shore, darkness had completely claimed the sky. My limbs felt like lead, every muscle screaming from the long swim. I collapsed onto the wet sand, breathing hard, staring up at the stars until the world steadied.
Dmitri was right beside me, his shirt plastered to his chest, water running down his neck. He looked like a Russian god carved out of the dark itself.
He turned his head, met my eyes. “You swim well.”
“Better than you,” I teased, though the words came out between gasps.
His teeth showed white as what may have been a smile broke across his face.
“We’ll need shelter,” he said. “ARCHEON won’t waste time. They’ll come looking.”
I sat up slowly, sand clinging to my skin, salt in my hair. “Let them look.”
For the first time, the statement didn’t feel like bravado. It felt like truth. I was done being a pawn. Whatever came next—good, bad, or catastrophic—I’d chosen it.
The sound reached us before the lights did.
Engines. Tires on gravel.
