The cameras run through a different system. Separate network. Live feed direct to my phone. I can still monitor her. Still keep her safe. But she's isolated now. Completely. Good.
I pull out my phone. Text Konstantin: Come in.
Then I walk to the pantry. Open the door.
Oliver is awake now. Eyes wide with terror. Cloth in his mouth muffling the sounds he's trying to make. Zip-ties cutting into his wrists behind his back—he's been struggling, drawn blood, dark lines on pale skin.
I smile. Wide. Genuine. "Well, hello there!" I lean against the doorframe, hands sliding into my pockets. Casual. Like we're old friends catching up over drinks. "How do we feel?"
He tries to yell through the tape. Muffled. Desperate. Probably please or help or don't kill me. Hard to tell. Don't particularly care.
Footsteps behind me. Konstantin appears—six-three, built like a tank, face like he's seen everything twice and wasn't impressed either time.
"Take him," I say in English.
"Yes, boss."
Konstantin moves past me into the pantry. Grabs Oliver under the arms, hauls him up like he weighs nothing. Oliver's legs kick weakly, uselessly.
They pass through the living room. Konstantin's eyes find Alena on the couch—just a glance, instinct, checking for threats. Then he immediately lowers his gaze to the floor. Smart man.
But I'm already looking at him. Our eyes meet. "Careful," I say. Quiet. Deadly.
"Sorry, boss. I didn't—"
"Yeah. Okay."
I switch to Russian, voice dropping lower, faster. The language of orders that don't get questioned. "Vyvezi yego za gorod. Kakoy-nibud' sklad, kotoryy my kontroliruyem. Tikhaya mestnost', net sosedei. Privyazhi yego, no poka ne trogay. Ya priyedu cherez chas, maksimum dva. Khochu s nim pogovorit' lichno."
Take him outside the city. Some warehouse we control. Quiet location, no neighbours. Tie him up but don't touch him yet. I'll come in an hour, two maximum. I want to talk to him personally.
Konstantin nods once. "Ponyal."Understood.
"I yeshchyo—nikomu ob etom. Dazhe Viktoru. Tol'ko my dvoye."And one more thing—no one knows about this. Not evenViktor. Just the two of us.
Another nod. "Kak skazhete, boss."As you say, boss.
He adjusts his grip on Oliver—who's still trying to struggle, still trying to scream through the tape—and heads for the back door. I watch them disappear into the night. Konstantin's car is parked two houses down. Black sedan, tinted windows, plates that won't trace back to anything real.
Oliver will be gone in sixty seconds. Disappeared. Another man swallowed by London's shadows.
The door closes. Silence settles over the house like a blanket.
I stand there for a moment, breathing, centering myself. Then I walk back to the living room. She hasn't moved. Still unconscious. Still beautiful. Still mine. I crouch beside the couch again, check her pulse—steady. Her breathing—even. The ghosts shut her down clean. No damage. Just protection. My hand finds her cheek. Thumb stroking her skin. Two years I've been watching her fall apart through cameras. Two years of becoming the monster Klaus wanted so I couldprotect her from worse monsters. Two years of torture—self-inflicted and necessary. And now I'm here. Touching her. Real. Present. Home.
My phone buzzes. Konstantin: V puti.En route.
Another buzz. Viktor: Klaus sprashivayet gde ty. Chto emu skazat'?Klaus is asking where you are. What should I tell him?
I stare at the message. The old man is watching. Always watching. Even now. Even when he's supposed to be trusting me. Testing me. Waiting for me to slip.
I text back: Reshau lichnye dela. Vernus' k utru.Handling personal business. Back by morning.
Viktor: Ponyatno.Understood.
Good. Klaus can wonder. Klaus can test. Doesn't matter. I'm done playing his games. She's here. She's mine. And if he tries anything—anything—I'll make good on every threat I made in that conference room.
I stand and look around the house. At the dining table where he ate her out. At the chairs where he sat. At the couch I'm about to burn. At the life she built without me that I'm about to dismantle and rebuild.
