Roman glanced at me, noticing immediately.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a faint, almost protective smile.
“We’ll be home soon.”
Home.
Temporary safe house.
I closed my eyes. Just for a second.
Tomorrow I would wake up and draft divorce papers.
Tomorrow I would send legal separation documents to the man who believed he still had authority over my life.
Tomorrow I would formally sever the contract that tied us together on paper.
And then —
I would prepare to step back into his territory.
Not as his wife. Not as his victim. But as an infiltrator.
For Yannis.
For the evidence.
For the case. For closure.
Chapter 5
ELENA
Three days later, I stood on the wide marble threshold of Ruslan Baranov’s estate — staring at the same imposing double doors that had once opened for me as a bride and now opened for me as something entirely different.
A tactical entry.
A negotiated return.
Security guards flanked the entrance, their expressions unreadable but alert.
They had already been informed of my arrival. I had called ahead — short, clinical, no emotional undertones. I had stated my purpose: divorce paperwork delivery and temporary residence for parental matters.
They had accepted.
The divorce papers were folded neatly inside my leather satchel — printed on crisp legal stock, signatures blank, lines waiting for his name.
Evidence of separation.
Proof of severed ties.
Or at least legally.
The door swung inward almost immediately.
Ruslan filled the frame.
He wasn’t dressed like the empire owner I had seen at the club.
