My stomach tightens.
“He’s still in Moscow,” Timofey continues. “Finalizing whatever he’s planning. According to the men we captured…” his gaze darkens slightly, “he’ll be here in two days.”
I feel it instantly, that cold tension slipping back under my skin.
Two days.
My body stiffens before I can stop it.
His arms tighten around me immediately, like he feels it without needing to see it.
“Are you scared?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head. “No.”
But the word isn’t as strong as I want it to be.
I hesitate, then rest my hand lightly against my stomach.
“We have a baby to protect now,” I add, softer. “It makes me…nervous.”
Something shifts in his expression at that.
Something deeper.
“I understand,” he says, voice low. “But listen to me.”
His hand comes up, brushing lightly over my cheek, turning my face fully toward him.
“I told you before,” he continues, gaze locked onto mine. “I would lay my life down for you, but it won’t get to that.”
There’s no hesitation in his voice.
“By the time this ends,” he adds, quieter now, “it’ll be you, me, and our child.” His thumb brushes gently under my eye. “I’ll protect you. Both of you.”
The words hit deeper than I expected.
Deeper than I’m ready for.
My throat tightens, emotion rising too fast for me to contain it.
I turn away slightly, blinking hard as tears sting my eyes, trying to get a hold of myself before they fall.
I don’t even get the chance to step out of his arms.
The office door opens.
A guard steps in. Something in his eyes makes my stomach drop before he even speaks. He approaches us carefully, holding out a small envelope.
“Sir. This was just delivered through the external gate.”
My gaze drops to it. My name is scribbled on top. And everything inside me goes cold. I know that handwriting. I’ve seen it before.
Too many times.
My fingers twitch slightly at my side.
“It’s Anton,” I say quietly. “That’s his handwriting.”
