Before I can answer, her phone buzzes with an incoming call. She glances at the screen and her expression immediately shifts to one of anticipation.
“Sorry, Sestrenka. I have to take this.” She answers with a breathless “Hey, beautiful,” which tells me exactly what kind of call it is. After a brief conversation about plans for the evening and what sounds like decidedly adult activities, she hangs up with a satisfied smile.
“I have to go,” she announces, already moving toward her bedroom. “But think about what I said. Life’s too short to let fear make your decisions for you.”
“Zoya—”
“And if you really want to know what Father and Alexei are planning,” she calls from the other room, “stop asking them directly and start watching who they’re meeting with. Surveillance works both ways.”
She emerges fifteen minutes later transformed—leather jacket, knee-high boots, makeup that could start wars, every inch the dangerous beauty that makes smart men do stupid things.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To make some poor bastard forget his own name,” she replies with a wicked grin. “You should try it sometime. Very therapeutic.”
She pauses at the door, her expression becoming momentarily serious. “For what it’s worth, I like him. YourItalian. He looks at you like you’re something precious instead of something useful. That’s rarer than you think in our world.”
And then she’s gone, leaving me alone in her chaotic apartment with my thoughts and the lingering scent of her expensive perfume.
I finish my vodka and try to process everything she’s said. The casual confirmation of my suspicions about Father and Alexei. Her matter-of-fact assumption that I’m falling for Rafa. Her suggestion that I should choose what I want instead of what’s expected of me.
The problem is, I’m not sure I know what I want anymore.
Three months ago, my goals were clear: escape the Bratva, establish independence, live life on my own terms. The engagement was an obstacle to be managed, nothing more.
Now...
Now I think about Rafa’s hands mapping my skin with reverent precision. His voice saying my name like a prayer. The way he threw himself between me and gunfire without hesitation.
The way I felt, for one perfect night, like I belonged somewhere with someone. Rafa made me feel alive —safe.
I check my phone, noting three missed calls from Nicolai and a text from Rafa asking if we can meet tomorrow to discuss “new developments in the Durov situation.”
New developments. Business as usual. Professional collaboration between strategic allies.
Not whatever’s been building between us in the spaces where pretense falls away.
I should be relieved that he’s maintaining distance after my cold dismissal this morning and grateful that he’s not pushing for conversations about feelings, futures, or what any of this means.
Instead, I find myself staring at his contact information, thumb hovering over the call button, wanting to hear his voice say something—anything—that isn’t about our families or their schemes or the dangerous game we’re all playing. To take back the coldness I gave him. Tell him this growing thing between us isn’t just business.
But I don’t call. Because Zoya is right about one thing: caring about someone does make you vulnerable. And in our world, vulnerability is often fatal. As my father frequently says,love is a weapon our enemies won’t hesitate to use against us.Loving Rafa… no, I can’t open that door. But…
The question is whether some things—some people—might be worth the risk.
I’m starting to suspect the answer is yes.
And that terrifies me more than any threat Durov could pose.
CHAPTER 24
Kira
Nicolai’s officein the Financial District feels like a sanctuary of order—clean lines, expensive furniture, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. Everything is perfectly arranged; nothing is out of place. It’s the physical manifestation of my brother’s mind, and I usually find it soothing.
Tonight, it feels like a cage.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls,” he says without looking up from the financial reports spread across his mahogany desk. Even after business hours, Nicolai works with the same methodical precision that’s made him indispensable to Father’s legitimate enterprises.
