Viktor, seated near the cockpit, keeps his eyes trained out the window, scanning constantly. His posture is coiled tension, one hand resting on his holstered weapon. Beside him, Oleg consults a tablet, his weathered face creased with concentration.
“What happened?” Julian asks for perhaps the third time since we were rushed onto the helicopter. “Why are we—?”
“We’ll explain when we land,” Oleg cuts him off, voice clipped. “Safety first, questions later.”
Julian exchanges a look with me, concern evident in his eyes. At 17, he’s old enough to understand that something very serious is happening but young enough to still look to me for reassurance. Reassurance I don’t have.
A cramp seizes my abdomen—sharp, sudden—making me wince. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach.
Elena notices immediately. “Hey,” she says quietly, leaning closer. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I whisper back. “Just stress.”
Her eyes narrow. “Bella—”
“Not now, Elena. Please.”
She assesses me for a moment, then nods once. “Alright. But remember what I always say?”
“That tequila solves most problems?”
“Besides that.” She takes my free hand, squeezing it. “Don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow when today’s got enough to spare. Whatever happens with Konstantin, whatever’s happening now—we deal with it one minute at a time.”
For someone who makes a living writing about sex positions and relationship drama, Elena can be surprisingly profound. I squeeze her hand back, grateful for her presence. The thought of facing this alone—of shepherding Julian and Lila through whatever danger we’re running from—is almost unbearable.
“Mrs. Belov,” Oleg announces, his voice carrying over the rotor noise. “We’ll be landing in three minutes. When we touch down, follow Viktor directly to the entrance. No stopping, no questions.”
Yelena’s gaze catches mine across the cabin. Her face is composed as always, but there’s something in her eyes I can’t quite read. Knowledge? Judgment? For a wild moment, I wonder if she regrets giving me that ultimatum in the garden.
Two weeks to decide. Terminate the pregnancy or leave with money and never tell Konstantin. Neither option feels possible now.
The helicopter begins its descent, banking toward what appears to be a sheer cliff face. My stomach lurches—both from the maneuver and from fear.
“Holy shit,” Elena breathes, peering out the window. “Is that a helipad on the edge of a cliff? Because that’s some James Bond villain real estate right there.”
She’s right. Jutting out from the rocky face is a small landing platform, barely visible until we’re almost upon it. As we get closer, I see heavy security doors built directly into the cliff itself.
“Papa says it’s the safest place we have,” Nikolai says, eyes fixed on the landing pad. “Brought us here for drills. But only to the lower levels. Never seen the whole place.” “Your father had it constructed five years ago,” Yelena tells him. “After the Moscow incident.”
No one elaborates on what the “Moscow incident” was, and I don’t ask.
The helicopter settles onto the pad with a gentle bump, its blades slowing as the engines wind down. Viktor is immediately on his feet, moving to the door.
“Move quickly,” he instructs, sliding the door open. The wind whips inside, cold and fierce at this elevation. “Stay close.”
We file out, Viktor leading the way, Oleg bringing up the rear. Julian sticks close to Lila, one hand protectively on her shoulder. I keep Alya beside me, my arm around her small frame.
The helipad connects to a short walkway that leads directly to a set of reinforced metal doors built into the cliff face. They look heavy enough to withstand a missile strike.
Viktor places his palm on a scanner, then leans in for a retinal scan. The doors slide open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing a brightly lit corridor carved directly into the rock.
“Welcome to Eagle Point,” a woman’s voice greets us as we enter. She stands in the corridor—tall, platinum blonde, with sharp features and sharper eyes. “I’m Dr. Sorokina, facility director.”
“Medical status?” Oleg asks her immediately.
“All systems operational. Infirmary prepped. Security at Level One.”
Viktor nods curtly. “Tour later. Security checkpoints first.”
