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The fourth and fifth journals grew colder. She wrote down every promise Sokolov broke and every person he threatened. The desperation remained, stripped and raw enough to almost make me feel bad for Alina.

The final journal contained only six pages.

Anika turned the last written page and found an envelope tucked against the back cover. Her name crossed the front in Alina’s handwriting.

“Do you want privacy?” I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep from ripping it from her hands. To protect her. Always to protect her.

She looked at the three of us, tears in her eyes, then shook her head. “I’ve had enough secrets.”

She broke the seal and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Anika unfolded it with both hands, took one unsteady breath, and read the first line aloud. “‘If you’re reading this, I finally ran out of time.’”

22

ROMAN

I kept a close eye on Anika when she stopped reading and pulled in a sharp breath. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she dabbed them away, head bent forward. The letter trembled between her hands, while the stale air in the building pressed close around us.

Maksim shifted behind Anika, prepared to take the paper the instant Anika gave him permission. Kirill had gone still beside the open locker. Neither of them would interfere unless she asked, but both of them were damned near frothing at the mouth to take over.

I couldn’t blame them. I’d snatch the letter from her in a heartbeat if I thought it would really help and not undermine what little authority Anika felt she had. But I could give her this. “You don’t have to read it out loud.”

“Yes, I do.” She dragged her eyes away from the page. “I”m not translating another of her secrets after the fact while everyone wonders what I left out.” Her grip tightened, making the pages rustle. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it together. All of it.” Another blink and she straightened. “Every fucking bit.”

I moved close enough to rest my arm next to her shoulder. “Together, then.”

Kirill crouched on her other side and rested one forearm on his knee. “Give me the word, and I’ll set the whole fucking thing on fire.”

She shook her head at him, a weak laugh stuttering out. “I”m sure you would. But it wouldn’t solve any of our problems.” She blew out a shaky breath and lifted the paper. “‘If you’re reading this, I finally ran out of time. I could make up some shit story that makes me sound like a hero. I could tell you I did everything for my son and hope you’ll forgive me. Mikhail explains my choices these last five years, but not before that.”

Even in a letter to her twin, she refused to confuse motivation with absolution.

Anika swallowed and continued. “‘Sokolov found me years before the masquerade. I was good at entering places men believed were secure, and I was arrogant enough to think being better than them made me untouchable. I took information from one of his accounts while chasing someone else. He traced the breach to me and offered a choice that wasn't a choice. I could steal from his rivals, or he could hand me to the men I'd already robbed.’”

Kirill's jaw shifted. “That sounds like him.”

Anika raised one finger without looking up, and he fell silent. Her voice quivered on the next few words before strengthening. “‘I kept working because I thought I could get enough money and leverage to disappear. Then I had Mikhail. I hid the pregnancy and used another name at the hospital. Sokolov still found him. He sent me a photograph of my baby sleeping beside a message telling me which account to enter next.’”

Her voice fractured on the last word. I put my hand beneath the letter, not taking it, only supporting her in the only way she currently allowed. Her fingers pressed against mine through the paper.

“‘After that, every job had the same price. If I succeeded, I received proof Mikhail was alive. If I delayed, Sokolov removed a caregiver, changed his name, or moved him somewhere I couldn't find. When I refused, he sent me videos of Mikhail crying. He never needed to say he’d kill my son. He made sure I knew he could reach into the crib whenever he pleased.’” Anika’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Fucking bastard. I’d like to run him over with a fucking steamroller and watch him pop.”

“I can have one delivered in an hour.” Maksim’s response came out clipped and determined.

The urge to answer a threat with overwhelming force lived in all three of us, but our sudden leap into fatherhood made the anger more precise, and ratcheted up the need for revenge. A man who would harm a child deserved nothing but the most excruciating death imaginable.

“Once we find the children, I’ll think about it.” Anika squeezed Maksim’s fingers, her gaze returning to the paper. She read silently, color rising in her cheeks, then spreading to her throat.

“What?” I leaned close enough to read over her shoulder but didn’t. “What is it?”

“He talked to her about you. All of you.” She cleared her throat and read. “‘The Volkov partners presented a problem Sokolov couldn't solve through force. Their systems overlapped only when all three men were together, and they lowered their defenses so rarely he believed he would only get one opportunity. He ordered me to create a distraction at the masquerade. I had no one I trusted enough to place near them except you.’” Her laugh came out small and vicious. “Trusted.”

Maksim's hand closed over the back of her neck. “There is no word she could use to make this acceptable.”

“I know.” Anika breathed through her nose, then forced herself onward. “‘I convinced you to attend because I knew which insecurities to use. I made it sound like an adventure when I was delivering you into a room full of dangerous men. I told myself you’d drink champagne, flirt, dance, and leave.’”

The ugly shape of the truth finally settled into place. Anika hadn't merely been mistaken for the person who betrayed us. Alina had selected her, guided her toward us, and relied upon our interest to open the exact weakness Sokolov wanted. The woman we'd punished had been deliberately sacrificed by the person she trusted most.

My stomach clenched around the memory of Anika restrained beneath our hands while I dismissed every protest as manipulation. Alina had started the deception, but we’d been the ones to carry out the punishment.