I fell asleep with my hand pressed to my stomach and dreamed of green-eyed children running through sunlit gardens.
Chapter 16 - Vasily
The flight had never felt so long.
I sat in the leather seat of the private jet, watching the Mediterranean unfold beneath us, and tried to keep my mind from spiraling into worst-case scenarios. Lucas was dead. The leak was plugged. But the damage had been done—Pankratov knew where I'd hidden her, knew the location of the island I'd believed was impenetrable.
Every minute I was in the air was a minute she was vulnerable.
I'd called ahead three times during the flight, each time receiving the same report: all quiet, no sign of movement, perimeter secure. But the words did nothing to ease the tension coiling tighter with every passing hour. I wouldn't believe she was safe until I could see her, touch her, feel her heartbeat against my chest.
The sun was sinking toward the horizon when we began our descent. Through the window, I watched the island materialize from the haze—the green hills, the white cliffs, the sprawling estate that had become both sanctuary and prison. Home, in a way nowhere else had ever been.
Because she was there.
The helicopter touched down on the north pad, and I was out before the rotors had fully stopped. Kirill called something after me, but I didn't hear it. Didn't care. All I could see was the terrace ahead, and the figure standing there, silhouetted against the dying light.
Gabrielle.
She'd been waiting for me. The realization hit me like a physical blow—she'd been watching for the helicopter, had come out to meet me, was standing there with her arms wrapped around herself like she was holding something in.
I crossed the distance between us in seconds. Then she was in my arms, her body pressed against mine, her face buried in my chest. I held her so tightly I worried I might hurt her, but I couldn't make myself loosen my grip.
"You're safe," I murmured against her hair. "Thank God. You're safe."
"I'm fine." Her voice was muffled against my shirt. "Vasily, what's happening? The guards, the extra security—something's wrong."
I pulled back just enough to look at her face. She was pale, dark circles shadowing her eyes, but her gaze was steady. Strong. Whatever fear she felt, she wasn't letting it control her.
"Inside," I said. "We need to talk."
I told her everything.
We sat in the library as darkness fell outside, and I laid out the full scope of what had happened. Lucas's betrayal. The information he'd fed to Pankratov over months. The attack on The Trophy Room. And the worst part—the part that had driven me back to her ahead of schedule.
"He knew about the island," I said. "Lucas had access to enough information to piece together the location. We have to assume Pankratov knows too."
She was quiet for a long moment, processing. I watched her face for signs of panic, of the terror that would be entirely justified given what I'd just told her.
Instead, she nodded slowly. "So we're not safe here anymore."
"We're safe for now. The security has been tripled. No one approaches without clearance. But—" I hesitated, hating what I had to say next. "We may need to move. Find somewhere else, somewhere Pankratov can't reach."
"Where?"
"I don't know yet. I'm working on options." I reached for her hand, needing the contact. "I'm sorry, Gabrielle. I brought you here to protect you, and instead I've put you in more danger."
"You didn't know about Lucas."
"I should have. I should have found the leak sooner, should have been more careful—"
"Stop." She squeezed my hand, cutting off the spiral of self-recrimination. "You can't control everything, Vasily. You can't predict every betrayal. What matters is what you do now."
I stared at her, struck again by how much she'd changed since the frightened woman I'd dragged from that alley. She wasn't just surviving anymore. She was adapting, strengthening, becoming someone I hadn't expected.
Someone worthy of standing beside me.
"There's something else," she said quietly.
