“It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
As Ed pulls her away, I tell myself he’ll keep her safe. I won’t consider any other alternative.
“I’ve let Ash know the Bratva are trying to take control,” Rory says. “He’s even more pissed now, but he’s landed the Griffin chopper in a field two minutes from here. We only need to say the word if and when we need them.”
“Then there’s only one thing left to do,” I say. “Let’s go see what these bastards want.”
The great hall seems the most appropriate place to receive our guests. There’s a viewing gallery above our heads that Danyl and Andrey will know to secure, but our family home hides plenty of secrets that are less obvious. There arespy holes that blend seamlessly with the sconces carved into the walls, behind which are the secret passages that were the playground of our childhood.
Calder and Killian are hidden in one such passage and will have a bird’s eye view of whatever comes next. Killian had the briefest opportunity to say goodbye to Katarina before our Bratva friends arrived, but there was no question of making him leave. God forbid we might need him, but for now, I have to hope my brother will stop him from doing anything rash.
The approaching footsteps are expected. Rory and I had been running across the lawn towards the terrace when we spied two of the three armored vehicles pulling up out front. It’s impossible to know how many people in total are in the cars, but I’ve been checking the mansion’s security feed on my phone and watched six men enter the house. Len is leading four of them towards us. The remaining two broke off and headed upstairs.
I haven’t spotted Danyl and Andrey yet. Our security cameras don’t give me complete coverage of the interior, but I did glimpse a shadow along the corridor close to Katarina’s room. She’s being guarded by at least one of her guards.
My breathing is heavy after racing here, but I’m happy to let our guests think I’m nervous. I want them to underestimate me. In my earpiece, I can hear Max barking orders, getting everyone prepared.
The double doors creak open and Len steps aside to allow one of the Bratva soldiers through. His footfalls are heavy on the polished timber floor as he scans the area without a word.
Two chandeliers ensure the hall is brightly lit, revealing sculptures on plinths and original works of art on the walls. Gold drapes outline tall windows and three sets of glazeddoors, all of which look out onto the terrace that’s shared with the drawing room, library and the billiards room. The hall is otherwise clear of furniture so it can be easily adapted to suit the occasion, be that a ball, a feast or when we were kids, an impromptu sports arena.
The soldier completes a circuit, then looks up. The two missing soldiers appear on opposite sides of the viewing gallery, presumably directed to their positions by Danyl and Andrey. They all wear black leather like a uniform and nod stiffly to each other. None have drawn weapons. Yet.
Rory does not look impressed. He folds his arms and arches an eyebrow as the rest of the party enter the hall. The first man to enter is balding and in his late sixties. He wears a black woolen coat and a tartan scarf. It’s Moncrief tartan. Is that meant to impress us?
“Gentlemen!” he exclaims, opening his arms wide. “Thank you for the kind welcome!”
Ignoring who I presume is Vasili Barkov’s representative, I check behind him and my heart clenches. I’d glimpsed Fitz on the security feed, but it’s a relief to see him in the flesh.
My younger brother has a personality loud enough to make his presence known without saying a word, but his ordeal has diminished him. Fitz looks nervous as he unzips his padded jacket, and gives a start when the guy with the tartan scarf clamps a hand on his shoulder.
A glance back at the man and my stony mask slips. This is no representative. It’s the man himself. What the fuck?
“Mr. Barkov,” Rory says. “How generous of you to return our brother after holding him hostage for… How long?”
Vasili holds up his hands. “My apologies, Rory, but as Ipromised Marmaduke, I’ve returned him unharmed. I am a man of my word.”
“If that’s an attempt to appear honorable, you need to try harder,” Rory replies, unimpressed.
He gestures to Fitz to join us and when Vasili doesn’t object, our brother steps into the space Rory and I make between us.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
Fitz shrugs out of his jacket and throws it on the floor behind us. “Better than you’re about to be,” he warns, pointing with his eyes to the man on Vasili’s right. Unlike the others in the group, this one isn’t wearing black leather, and he carries a small bible.
“Don’t spoil the surprise, Fitz,” warns Vasili. “Let us wait until my niece joins us.”
I feel the weight of the extra gun I’d slipped into my waistband, either to use myself or pass to Fitz if there’s time. I add up the numbers we’re presently dealing with. There’s five Bratva, assuming the bible-toting guy is armed, and then there’s five of us including Killian. It’s better odds than I feared, but with nowhere to take cover, the risks at present are too great. I promised Fitz he’d be safe. I promised Grace I’d see her again.
There’s a creak of the double doors opening again and Katarina appears, tailed by Danyl. Her heels click loudly, her steps confident and her gaze sharp as she checks our surroundings, immediately clocking the men Vasili has posted in the gallery.
“Moya lyubimaya plemyannitsa,” Vasili exclaims.My favorite niece.
Katarina rolls her eyes. “I’m youronlyniece, uncle.”
On the surface, their hug is affectionate, but Katarina’s gaze dims with each kiss he plants onher cheek.
He smiles benevolently. “Still my favorite and looking as beautiful as ever.” He takes his time inspecting her from head to toe. “Red always did suit you, but I would have preferred something more virginal for your wedding day.”
