No new leads. Federal task force expanding international search—Canada, Mexico, Russia. If he flies out of the country, we'll find him. Stay vigilant.
I show Maksim the message.
"Russia," he says thoughtfully. "That's where he's from. Where he trained, where most of his victims were. If he went back—"
"He'd have resources there. Connections. Places to hide." I set down the phone. "But would he really leave? While I'm here, pregnant, exactly what he wants?"
"I don't know. That's what terrifies me. We don't know what he's planning, where he is, what comes next."
Three weeks of silence.
The hunt continues, but the hunter has become a ghost.
And we wait, building our life while watching the shadows.
Because Anton Kozlov is still out there.
And his silence is the most frightening thing of all.
Chapter eighteen
Blood Patterns
Maksim
Wednesday, November 24th, 6:30 PM.
Alexei and Mila arrive after twelve hours driving from Chicago—they could have flown, but Alexei wanted the time to think, to prepare for what this visit really means.
Family summit. Thanksgiving celebration. And strategic planning for the Anton threat.
I meet them in the driveway as their armored SUV pulls up. Two of Alexei's bodyguards exit first—they'd taken turns driving during the twelve-hour journey. Each opens a rear door simultaneously, professional and coordinated.
Alexei climbs out looking tired but alert. Mila emerges from the other side, stretching after the long drive, then immediately crosses to hug Sonya who's waited with me despite the November cold.
"Look at you," Mila says, pulling back to study Sonya's small bump visible under her sweater. "Nine weeks. You're glowing."
"I'm nauseous and terrified, but thank you."
The bodyguards begin unloading luggage while Sergei appears to coordinate with them. They'll stay with my security team during the visit, integrating into the mansion's protection detail.
We move inside where it's warm. Irina has prepared the guest suite on the second floor—the best rooms, overlooking the gardens, everything Alexei and Mila might need for a long weekend.
At 7:00 PM, we gather in the study for the real conversation before dinner.
Sergei joins us, and Natasha—she's family now too, after everything. Six of us around the large desk, discussing bloodlines and futures.
"Nine weeks pregnant," Alexei says, studying Sonya. "Married for 10 days. Foundation operational with students enrolled. And Anton Kozlov is still at large after three and a half weeks of silence."
"That's the situation," I confirm.
"The silence worries me more than anything," Mila adds. "Men like Anton don't just disappear. They plan."
"We know." Sonya's hand moves unconsciously to her stomach. "Mariana and I have been analyzing his patterns. The silence is tactical. He's building toward something."
"Which is why we're here," Alexei says. "Family needs to be unified. The Morozov-Petrov alliance needs to be more than just names on a foundation. It needs to mean blood and commitment."
He looks at me directly. "You're bringing a child into this world. Morozov blood and Petrov blood. That child will inherit both families' histories, both legacies. We need to discuss what that means."
