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“Uncle Sacha, look ! I found my mom !”

I met Sacha’s gaze, and his expression shifted from confusion to something more intense as he stepped closer.

“You’re Antonio Rasili’s wife. What are you doing here ?” he asked, gripping Andrei’s shoulders as if to pull him away. But the child struggled against his hold.

Panic gripped me.

He’s going to call Antonio.

They’re going to hand me over.

I tried to back away, but he suddenly grabbed my injured wrist, making me cry out in pain.

“I asked you a question—what happened to your hand ?”

My chin trembled as I searched desperately for an escape. I tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron.

Then, like a whirlwind, Sienna appeared in my vision.

I didn’t even have time to warn her before she slammed her fist into his face, then immediately followed with a sharp strike to his throat with her elbow.

Caught off guard, he released me, stumbling back with a groan, coughing.

Sienna grabbed my good hand and yanked me forward.

“Run !”

I stumbled after her as we pushed through the crowd.

I spotted Rafael waving at us from the back seat of a car, already strapped in.

Sienna practically threw me inside, shoving me next to my son before jumping into the passenger seat.

“Drive !” she barked at the driver.

The car surged forward, tires screeching as we merged into traffic.

I looked over my shoulder, heart pounding and there, through the airport doors, I saw them.

Nikolai Ivanov, clutching his son against him, watching us. Two icebergs staring straight into my soul.

Chapter six

Nikolai

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I missed that !” Roman laughed, slouching on the couch, while Sacha paced behind him, an ice pack pressed to his jaw. “Sacha got his ass handed to him by a woman half his size !”

I groaned, rubbing my face, my head on the verge of exploding between Roman’s laughter, Sacha’s grumbling, and most of all, Andrei’s crying from upstairs, where Elif was trying to console him.

“Roman, shut up ! And Sacha, are you sure it was her ?” I asked, standing up, my body tense as a bowstring.

“Don’t take me for a fool,moy brat,” my brother snapped. “It was Antonio Rasili’s wife. And thatmalen’kayagadyuka( little viper) if I get my hands on her…” he growled.

I sighed and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the vast garden and the pool below, with the sea stretching beyond. Sochi had been our mother’s favorite city, which was why our father had built this massive estate here for us to live in. We had spent a lot of time here, even though we frequently traveled back and forth to the U.S. for business—mainly California, our primary base. From there, we controlled Arizona and New Mexico, handling the western region, while Smirnov and Kuznetsov, two loyalBratvafactions, managed our territories in the East, spanning from South Carolina to Louisiana, including Florida. Unfortunately, our northern territories were less extensive, with only Montana and Minnesota under our control—and they were risky, surrounded by Italian vermin.

“She was injured,” Sacha suddenly added, silencing Roman’s laughter. I felt my blood pressure rise as I turned to face my brother.

“Injured ?” I asked.