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“Yes, she gave birth. It’s a girl,” Maksim says, and there’s a hint of a smile in his voice despite the gravity of the situation. “Her name is Anastasia and she’s healthy and perfect. Aria’s recovering well. Daniel is besotted with his little sister.”

Tears spill down Katerina’s cheeks, but there’s joy mingled with the pain now. “A girl,” she whispers, a big grin on her chapped lips. “I knew it.”

I hold her tighter, pressing my lips to her hair, my heart aching with the force of my love for her. Even though she’s hurt and most likely concussed, her first thoughts are for her family.

But Maksim is eyeing the way we cling to each other, his lip curling in a sneer of distaste. There’s a hardness in his gaze as it flicks to me, a cold, simmering fury that promises retribution.

“There will be time for answers later,” he says, the warmth gone from his voice. “We need to move. Russo’s gone, Barone. He slipped the net and disappeared down a back road before Leo’s men could close in.”

Russo’s gone. It’s like a bucket of ice water to the face that chases away the fragile warmth of the moment before. Russo escaped.

Katerina shudders against me and rage surges through me. The urge to hunt him down and tear him apart with my bare hands is strong. But I can’t.

Not now with Katerina so broken in my arms. I just hold her tighter, trying to pour all my love into our embrace.

“We’ll find him,” I vow, smoothing her hair, my fingers catching on the snarls. “We’ll hunt him down and make him pay for what he’s done.”

Maksim nods, a short, sharp jerk of his head. But there’s something else in his eyes now, something that sends a chill racing down my spine. It looks like reluctance and pity. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

“There’s more, Barone,” he says, almost gently. “It’s about your half-brother, Luca.”

My heart seizes in my chest, a cold fist of dread closing around my throat. No. God, please no. Not Luca. Not my brother.

I brace myself for the blow I know is coming, for the words that will shatter my world all over again. He’s dead. He died saving Katerina, or trying to stop Russo, or…

But the words that come are somehow worse. So much worse.

“He’s the one, Nico,” Maksim says, and there’s a bitter twist to his lips. “He’s the traitor. He’s been working with Russo all along, feeding him information. He’s the reason they got to Katerina. He’s the reason why your men have ended up dead and how Russo found out you have Seraphina.”

For a moment, I stare at Maksim in mute, stunned horror. Luca. My brother, my right hand. A traitor. A Judas, a backstabbing snake.

White-hot rage sears through me, mingling with the gut-wrenching relief and the soul-deep terror of how close I came to losing everything. I want to break something, to feel bones snapping under my fists, to paint the walls with blood and ruin.

Katerina shaking in my arms brings me out of my blood lust. I can’t do that. Not now. Later. Once I’ve had a chance to digest everything that’s happened today.

So I swallow it down, and force it back, locking it away in the darkest, coldest corner of my heart. There will be a reckoning, I promise myself. I will get my revenge. But for right now, I need to focus on Katerina and getting her back home.

I lift Katerina into my arms, cradling her against my chest like she’s the most precious thing in the world. And she is. She’s everything to me. She clings to me, burying her face in the crook of my neck, her breath hot and ragged against my skin. I can feel the tremors running through her, the aftershocks of terror and pain that wrack her battered body.

Maksim steps forward, his hands outstretched. “I’ll take her,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind. “You’ve done enough, Barone.”

But I just clutch Katerina tighter, a snarl twisting my lips. “No,” I growl, and there’s no mistaking the threat in my tone. “She stays with me.”

Maksim’s eyes flash, his jaw clenching with barely suppressed fury, but he doesn’t argue. He knows better than to get between me and what’s mine.

I carry Katerina down the stairs, shielding her from the worst of the carnage with my body.

The house is a nightmare landscape of blood and broken bodies, but I barely see it. All my focus is on the woman in my arms.

Outside, the yard is swarming with activity. Nikolai, Leo, Cillian stand together, talking quietly amongst themselves. They turn as one when I emerge, their gazes locking onto Katerina’s limp form.

Nikolai takes a step forward, his expression wild and desperate. “Katya,” he breathes, his face white. I’ve never seen Nikolai look so…human before.

But then he sees the way I’m holding her, the intimate, possessive curl of my arms around her body and he stops dead, his face twisting with anger. He understands what this all means and the snarl that tears from his throat banishes any humanness I saw not even a second earlier.

“Not now,” I tell him impatiently. “I’m taking her home. She needs rest and medical attention. Everything else can wait.”

For a moment, I think Nikolai might finally snap and lunge for my throat, damn the consequences. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gives me a short, sharp jerk of his head.