“His men, his rules,” the guard replies flatly. “We need to move.”
Tatiana checks her own watch, nodding tersely. “Fine. Prepare the children for transport. Kill the others.”
Behind me, I feel Elena’s fingers brush against my bound wrists, the cold edge of a blade slipping between them. A quick, precise movement and the zip tie loosens. Not fully cut—that would be too obvious—but weakened enough that a sharp tug will break it.
I keep my body perfectly still, making sure the guards don’t notice. Elena shifts slightly, and I know she’s doing the same for Julian beside her.
“You’re making a mistake,” Anatoly says, his voice eerily calm. “If you harm anyone in this room, there won’t be a place on this earth where you can hide from my son.”
Tatiana laughs, though the sound holds an edge of hysteria now. “Your son? Your precious heir? He’ll be too busy mourning to hunt me down.” She pulls a sleek handgun from her jacket. “Now, who wants to go first? The old man? The first wife? Or perhaps…” her eyes land on me, “the pregnant bride?”
The gun swings toward me, and time seems to slow. I see Julian tensing beside me, ready to lunge despite his bound hands. I see Alya’s small face, eyes wide with terror.
“You bitch!” Irina suddenly lunges at Tatiana, her manicured nails aiming for the other woman’s face. “You promised me five million! You said I’d get my money if I helped you get to the children!”
Tatiana steps back, momentarily surprised by the attack. “Have you lost your mind?”
Irina’s gaze darts to the children, and her face twists with contempt. “What are you staring at?” she snaps, voice sharp and cold. “You think I give a damn about you?” Lev flinches. Nikolai’s jaw clenches, holding back tears.
Irina’s eyes return to Tatiana, wild and desperate. “I did what you asked. I didn’t come back for them. I want my payment!”
Tatiana’s expression hardens, her grip on the gun tightening.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” Tatiana enunciates each word, the gun now pointed at Irina.
The sound seems to strengthen Irina’s resolve. “No,” she says simply.
For a moment, the two women stare at each other, a battle of wills that could end only one way.
The gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space.
Irina stumbles back, a red stain blooming across her chest. Her eyes wide with shock, she falls to her knees, then crumples to the floor.
Tatiana stands over her, gun still raised, face twisted with contempt.
“Idiot,” she mutters. “Always were.”
The children’s screams tear through the air. Alya’s the loudest, a sound of pure anguish that will haunt my nightmares forever.
In the chaos that follows, Elena gives my zip tie a sharp tug. It snaps, my hands suddenly free. Beside me, Julian’s hands are loose, too.
One of the guards notices, shouting something in Russian. Gunfire erupts, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
I dive for the children, my only thought to shield them with my body. Julian moves in the same instant, tackling one of the guards to the floor.
Everything becomes a blur of movement and noise. Elena somehow has a gun—taken from a fallen guard—and is firing with surprising accuracy. Oleg, somehow also free, has engaged another guard in hand-to-hand combat.
I reach Alya, pulling her and her brothers behind me, using my body as a shield. Lila is there too, having broken free in the chaos, her face streaked with tears but her eyes determined.
“Stay down,” I tell them, my voice steadier than I feel. “No matter what happens, stay down.”
The door to the panic room slides open with a pneumatic hiss. More gunfire. More shouting.
And then, cutting through the madness like a blade through silk, a voice I’d recognize anywhere.
“Bella!”
Konstantin.
