Page 20

By the time Tayana found me, I was barely holding on.
“Maxine?” she breathed, disbelieving.
I could see it in her face — the way I resembled Mia, the flash of recognition, the flood of hope. She reached for me, trembling, desperate to pull me out of the room and rush me to safety.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Because under the loose shirt, wrapped snug around my waist, was the Russian’s gift. A bomb belt. A thin strap of death cinched tight to my skin, wired to his trigger, blinking red like a heartbeat counting down.
“He’ll kill me if I try to leave,” I whispered, my voice so brittle I could barely hear it. “I’m not ready to die yet. I need to get home to my sisters.”
I saidsisters. Because back then, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Sophia was already gone. I didn’t know I’d been clinging to a home that had already cracked in half.
Tayana’s anger boiled over, her voice sharp as she hissed, “We’re getting out of here, Maxine. Together.”
But I couldn’t believe her. Because the Russian didn’t need chains. He didn’t need a lock on the door. He had me wired to explode — a walking threat.
When he came for us, he was all smiles and poison.
“Patience, kotyonok,” he purred to Tayana. “We’re going home. To Russia. To your father.” He ushered us out of the building and into a waiting car, a limousine. It was so obvious that Tayana knew him, but despised him.
I was so scared that the bomb would go off and she would die with me. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. That she didn’t deserve this. A lifetime of uncertainty as the car sped towards a private airstrip.
I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the fear of what was to come - travelling to another foreign country where I would become someone’s else’s possession.Or perhaps I was at the end of my rope and saw no way out.
I braced myself, and swung the car door open. The wind howled through the cabin. I edged toward the door, body half in, half out as I got ready to throw myself out of the car.
I wasn’t trying to save myself. I was trying to save her. If the bomb went off, if I jumped far enough, I could keep her safe. At least one of us. But Tayana grabbed my arm, sobbing.
“Don’t! You don’t get to do this, Maxine!”
Her fingers clung to me with the kind of raw, desperate force
I hadn’t felt in a long time —I see you. I won’t let you go.
Even when I wanted to fall, she wouldn’t let me.
And then, as if fate decided to play one last sick joke, the car stopped. The driver yanked me back inside, the locks clicked shut, and I was a caged bird again.
By the time we reached the jet, my body was shaking. Not out of fear or the bomb strapped to my body, but from sheer, unbearable exhaustion.
Tayana and I climbed the stairs, our feet heavy, our hearts heavier.
I didn’t know what waited for us on that plane — only that it smelled like money, like power, owned by the kind of men who made choices for you.
And then everything changed. Armed men. Shouts. Weapons drawn. And from the shadows, another man emerged. I learned that he was Anton Aslanov — Tayana’s father, and the Russian who brought me was Igor Aslanov, Tayana’s uncle.
I didn’t know either man, but they both radiated the kind of authority that could bend the world.
They were here for Tayana.
And I realized, in that frozen, electric moment, that she had a rescue. She had a way home. And somehow, so did I.
When the beltwas unstrapped from my waist, I felt lighter, but not free. Freedom wasn’t a belt. It wasn’t a bomb. It was walking away,
getting into a car, letting my uncle Mason take my trembling hand,
letting Rafi Gatti’s careful voice guide me to safety.
I was free. That’s what they told me, what I tried — and failed — to believe as the car pulled up to the Gatti estate. Mason was at my side, his hand heavy and grounding on mine. Rafi was there, lingering just behind, his eyes shadowed, his mouth a hard line. I stared out the window, watching the mansion loom closer, and felt my heart stutter against my ribs. This was it. Home. Family. Mia.