Neither of them needs to say anything.
We all know what almost happened.
And what will happen if she’s stupid enough to come back.
24 hours later
The call comes through just as the car turns onto the private drive.
Timur taps his earpiece. Listens. Grunts once.
“She’s on the ferry to Oakland,” he says, deadpan. “Crying like her dog died. Alone.”
Arseny doesn’t even look up from the tablet on his lap. “Good. Let the rats rot with the rats.”
I watch the cypress trees flash by the window, dark against the last smear of sunset.
Twenty-four hours.One messy night, two cleaner operations, and a half dozen new problems later—Irina’s finally out of my city. Out of my sight.
For now.
“Put eyes on her anyway,” I say. “Quiet ones.”
Timur taps a text without arguing. He knows better. No one gets loose ends with my name still attached.
The Bentley hums up the drive, smooth as sin. In the back, the silence stretches—comfortable between us.
We’re used to it. We don’t fill space with bullshit.
Especially not after nights like this.
At the top of the hill, Belov Manor waits—lights low, windows glowing warm. The house already moving toward dinner.
Alya, Yelena, the twins, and my father sitting at the head of the table like a king returning to his throne. The cane rests against the armrest, but he’s no longer leaning on it like a lifeline. The doctors call it a miracle. I call it the first real problem Filipp and Tatiana didn’t see coming.
And Bella… I let the thought settle.
She’s healing faster than any of them expected. Swelling down. Bruises fading. Sleeping deep through the nights, eating better, walking the halls again with that stubborn tilt to her chin.
Young. Tough. Built for surviving things that should’ve broken her.
The last two weeks, I barely stopped long enough to see her awake. Always passing by when she was asleep—curled on her side, breathing steady, lashes dark against her skin.
And every time I saw her like that, a calm so fragile it felt borrowed, the rage burned hotter. Boiling under my skin, clawing up my throat. Because someone did that to her. Because of me. Someone put their hands on her. Hurt her. Marked her. And every bruise was a goddamn reminder that I didn’t get there in time. That I should have been faster. Should have protected her better.
Arseny shifts, flipping to a new screen on his tablet. Spreadsheets. Bank records. The slow, methodical murder of Tatiana’s plausible deniability.
“We’re almost there,” he says. “Another two days, and we can tie Azimut Holdings straight back to her. Solid enough for the Circle to move.”
I nod once.
jaw clenched so tight it feels like my teeth might crack.“Suka blyad,”I grind out, the curses slipping through my teeth like venom. Tatiana. Filipp. Those traitorous, greedy bastards. Theyused Irina. Financed her. Hid her. Orchestrated the whole thing. And for what?
To take Bella. To erase her from the equation completely — so I can’t be Pakhan. No wife, no seat. No threat to Filipp’s claim.
And Irina?
She was just stupid enough to believe whatever lies they fed her. That I’d take her back. That she could come home and pick up where she left off.She’s not the mastermind. Just the bait.
