The hidden passage.
Built into the wall behind the shelves. A route meant for emergencies no one ever believed would come.
“Papa—no!” I twist against his hold now, panic rising sharp and fast. “You’re coming with me!”
He doesn’t slow down.
Doesn’t even hesitate.
He reaches the panel, his blood-slick hand pressing against the hidden mechanism.
The wall shifts.
Opens.
Cold darkness yawns behind it.
“Papa—please—”
He turns to me then.
And for the first time, I see it. Not the leader. Not the feared head of the Petrov Bratva.
My father.
There’s blood at the corner of his mouth now. His breathing is uneven, his strength already slipping—but his eyes….
His eyes are still sharp.
Still commanding.
Still unbreakable.
“You will go,” he says, his voice lower now, roughened by pain, but no less firm. “You will not argue with me.”
“I’m not leaving you!” My voice breaks despite everything I try to hold together. “We can both—”
“No.”
This time, it’s final.
A command that has no alternative.
“If you stay, you die.”
The words land hard.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
“And everything I built dies with you.”
That silences me.
Just for a second.
Just long enough.
