Page 35 of Her Courage

ANDREI

Ipulled my phone from my pocket as Oscar merged into traffic. My fingers moved with practiced precision, opening the encrypted messaging app I hadn't touched in years.

The one that connected me to people from my past. People who moved in shadows and asked no questions.

People like my cousin's best assets.

Me: Need additional security. Discreet. For my woman. Target may escalate.

The response came within seconds.

S: Location?

I typed out Kaleb's address, then added Lottie's office location and our building address.

S: Consider it done. You won't see them.

Me: Good. Keep me posted on any movement. Especially cream BMW. Owner is hostile.

S: Understood.

I pocketed my phone, satisfied. Sergei's men were some of the best I'd ever worked with. They'd protected Sofia when she was most vulnerable during her treatments. They'd kept Maxim safe when threats emerged against Sergei.

They'd keep Lottie safe now.

And she'd never know they were there.

"Who were you texting?" Kaleb's voice held an edge of suspicion.

I met his gaze over Lottie's head. "Insurance."

"Andrei—"

"Later," I cut him off, nodding toward our girl who was finally starting to calm in Kaleb's arms. "We'll discuss later."

He didn't like it—that much was clear from the set of his jaw—but he gave a curt nod.

Lottie shifted, lifting her head to look between us. "What was that about?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, kroshka." I brushed my knuckles along her cheek. "Just making sure we have everything we need to keep you safe."

Her eyes searched mine for a long moment before she nodded, settling back against Kaleb's chest.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Lottie's breathing had evened out, exhaustion finally claiming her as the adrenaline faded.

When we pulled into the garage, I caught a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. There, in the shadows of the treeline along the side of the property.

Most people wouldn't notice. But I wasn't most people.

The figure stood perfectly still, blending with the darkness beneath the evergreens. Tall. Broad-shouldered. The stance of someone trained to remain unseen.

I knew that posture.

Mikhail. Sergei's best friend and one of the deadliest men I'd ever had the privilege of working alongside. Before I left Russia, we'd trained together. Fought together. Bled together.

If Sergei sent Mikhail, he was taking this seriously.

Relief washed through me. One more layer of protection. One more set of eyes watching for threats.