A series of images flashed through my mind: Isabella’s fierce eyes when she’d challenged me; her vulnerability as she’d slept in my arms; her body trembling when she sawMarcus Moretti. I had promised myself I wouldn’t let Grey near her again. I had failed.
My vision tunneled, and a cold rage washed over me—a familiar rage but one I hadn’t experienced in a while.
Before I’d fully processed what was happening, my body was already moving toward the door. Every instinct demanded immediate action.
I would not let Grey take Shorty. No fucking way.
Kozlova stepped directly into my path. “Zotov, we’ve got some things to discuss.” Her voice was sharp, authoritative—with the commanding power of someone of her caliber.
Every fiber of my being screamed to push past her, but years of experience held me in place. Even though each second felt like an eternity.
“Valeria Alexandrovna, with respect,” I managed, my voice tight with controlled urgency, “we have an immediate security situation that requires attention.”
She raised an eyebrow. “More pressing than what has been happening on a secured Paraskia property?”
The calculating coldness in her voice made my jaw clench. Was this about cleaning up what had been happening? Or was it about covering their backs, about politics, while Isabella was in danger?
The doors burst open, saving me from making a career-ending decision by telling her exactly where I was standing. Hawk entered with Birdie beside him, both moving with military precision that immediately commanded the room’s attention. They were soaking wet from the storm, their expressions grim and focused.
Confusion rippled through me—Hawk’s presence alongside the Paraskia leadership made absolutely no sense. Hawk and his team had been victims of the ambush when the Paraskia kidnapped the Salvini sisters. How was Hawk now on the same side as Paraskia’s leadership?
Vince, next to me, straightened, and his expression darkened with suspicion. “What the hell is Raptor Security doing here?”
My mind raced, recalculating everything I thought I knew. Hawk’s connections ran deeper than I’d realized.
Much deeper.
Or was this collaboration new?
Hawk nodded almost imperceptibly at Valeria Kozlova, a gesture of familiarity that stunned me, then addressed her directly, bypassing all protocol. “Director Kozlova, we have confirmation that Grey is currently fleeing with two hostages.”
Roman appeared from somewhere, tablet in hand. Water dripped from his hair as he swiped through satellite images. “Satellite shows two boats headed to the yacht five miles offshore. We need to move now. The storm’s intensifying—we’ll lose our window.”
I watched the director’s expression harden as she turned to her security team. “Secure the compound. No one leaves.”
Her professionalism was admirable amid this chaos. This was probably what the Paraskia Syndicate needed going forward—a clear directive, a plan of action.
I stepped forward, conscious of every eye in the room on me.
“Director,” I acknowledged her position, “request permission to lead the retrieval team.”
“Denied,” she responded coolly. “You’re too close to this situation, Zotov. And I don’t trust you.”
The dismissal felt like a knife to the gut but ignited something primal in me. Something dark and dangerous that had always been a part of me…a tightly leashed part.
30
ISABELLA
Uncle Marcus’s cologne—the same after all these years—invaded my senses, threatening to overwhelm me. My breathing turned shallow. My vision narrowed. Part of me wanted to run screaming into the ocean, to let the waves take me rather than endure his presence ever again.
But Cara—they had Cara. I couldn’t leave her. Her wide eyes found mine, terrified and pleading, as Grey’s fingers dug into her arm.
I forced air into my lungs, fought against the panic. Three breaths. That’s what Dr. Steinman had taught me. Three deep breaths to reset the system.
One. I am no longer eight years old.The air tasted of salt and rain as I inhaled deeply.
Two. I’ve survived worse than this.My hands steadied as oxygen flooded my system.
