Page 71 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

The door slams shut, leaving me alone with the doctor again. He approaches the examination chair, latex gloves snapping as he pulls them on.

“Please don’t do this.”

"Orders," he says simply, gesturing toward the stirrups. “Will be quick.”

I bite back a sob as Dr. Lebedev's clinical touch invades me once more. His examination is thorough but impersonal, his breathing steady while mine comes in ragged gasps. I focus on a single point on the ceiling, counting each second that passes. One, two, three...

The watch vibrates against my wrist again. I can't look at it now, can't risk drawing attention to it. Instead, I retreat into myself, building walls around my consciousness brick by brick.

“Is normal,” Dr. Lebedev announces after what feels like an eternity. He withdraws his instruments and steps back, stripping off his gloves with a snap that makes me flinch. “No pregnancy. Get down now.”

I move mechanically, lowering my legs from the stirrups. My muscles protest, cramped from tension and the unnatural position. My feet touch the cold floor, legs trembling as I stand.

Dr. Lebedev's eyes dart to the door, then back to me. His massive frame suddenly seems to shrink as he hunches forward.

“Listen carefully,” he speaks in unexpectedly clear English, all traces of his thick accent vanishing. “We have less than a minute.”

He moves to open his medical bag, but instead of retrieving more instruments, he pulls out a sleek handgun. The metal gleams under the chandelier light as he presses it into my palm.

“From your grandfather,” he says, closing my fingers around the weapon.

I stare at the gun, then at the doctor's face, understanding failing to penetrate my shock. "What? My grandfather? I don't?—"

“Quiet, woman." Dr. Lebedev glances nervously at the door.

My mind reels as I clutch the cold metal. “But the examination...you just?—”

“Had to be convincing. Victor watches everything. Hide it.”

“Are you even a doctor?” I gasp.

The door handle turns, and Dr. Lebedev instantly transforms back into the hulking, accent-heavy physician, as he snaps his medical bag shut.

“All done,” he announces loudly as the female guard peers in. “Patient healthy. I go now. You bring chair.”

With trembling fingers, I shove the gun between my breasts, the cold metal pressing against my skin as I tuck it into the built-in bra of Victor's gifted dress.

The female guard marches in. She doesn't speak as she begins collapsing the stirrups. I back away, pressing myself against the far wall, willing my heartbeat to slow as the gun shifts against my skin.

She wheels the chair toward the door, metal legs squeaking against marble floors. The sound grates against my raw nerves, but I maintain my composure, keeping my expression blank as she exits. The door closes with a definitive click, followed by the unmistakable sound of a lock engaging.

Alone at last.

My watch vibrates against my wrist with insistent urgency. I lift it to eye level, my breath catching as I read the scrolling message.

OPEN BALCONY DOOR. - O

My heart pounds against the cold metal of the gun as I move toward the doors. I unlatch them, the cool night air rushing in as I push them open. The Petrov estate stretches below me, manicured gardens illuminated by strategic lighting that leaves few places for concealment.

I step onto the balcony, scanning the shadows for any sign of Oscar. The floor is cold beneath my bare feet, a quiet reminder of my vulnerability. The diamond ring on my finger catches the moonlight, scattering fractured rainbows across the marble balustrade.

“Up here.”

The words come from above. I tilt my head back to see Oscar perched on the roof overhang, his dark clothing blending with the night sky. He moves with feline grace, dropping silently to the balcony beside me.

“Are you hurt?” His eyes scan my body, lingering on the bruises forming around my wrist. “I heard Dmitri’s voice.”

“I'm fine,” I lie. How did you?—”

“Later,” he cuts me off, glancing behind us. “We have three minutes before the security sweep reaches this section.”

His fingers brush my cheek, the gentleness of his touch nearly undoing my fragile composure.

“I wish I could stay.” His thumb traces the edge of the bruise forming on my wrist.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Z?”

“Z was losing his shit when he heard what happened. We practically had to restrain him.”

“What else is new?” I manage a weak smile, trying to inject lightness I don't feel. “Tell me he's not planning to storm Victor's bedroom with guns blazing.”

"Worse. Had they not disarmed us, this would have been over much faster," Oz's expression hardens. “Talon's with him now, keeping him from doing anything stupid. But we need to move fast.”

I reach between my breasts, withdrawing the gun. “My grandfather's doctor slipped me this. He's apparently been working for Mikhail all along.”

“Victor's being played from all sides.” A grim smile touches his lips.

“Good. We can use that. He reaches into his jacket, pulling out the signal jammer. “Talon didn’t get a chance to leave this. Contact your grandfather, insist that he bring your brother and Alex tomorrow. Everything else is in place.”

A distant sound makes him tense. His head whips toward the garden below as he spots movement among the hedges.

“Security patrol. I've stayed too long already.”

My heart clenches at the thought of being alone again in this gilded prison. I grab his arm, suddenly desperate. “Oscar, I?—”

He pulls me against him, cutting off my words with a kiss that's both tender and fierce. His lips move against mine with urgent passion, saying everything words cannot. He pulls away against both of our wishes. “Be brave, just a little bit longer, solnishko. Tomorrow ends this nightmare.”

Before I can respond, he’s gone—swinging over the balcony edge with fluid grace. I rush forward, gripping the cold railing as I watch his silhouette descend the building’s intricate exterior. He disappears into the neatly trimmed topiaries below, vanishing without a trace.

The night air feels colder without him. I retreat into my room, closing the balcony doors behind me.

Tomorrow ends this nightmare. The gun presses against my skin, cold and reassuring as I cross the room.

The tablet. I need to contact my grandfather now.

My fingers close around the sleek device hidden in my bag. I clutch it to my chest, scanning the room for surveillance cameras I know must be there. The bathroom is my only hope for privacy.

I slip inside, locking the door behind me. I turn on the shower, letting steam fill the space as I perch on the edge of the massive tub. I activate the jammer Oscar left behind, the small device blinking green to indicate it's working.

Ten minutes. That's all I have before someone might get suspicious.

I power on the tablet. My finger hovers over the contact icon, and hesitation grips me. What if the doctor was lying? What if this is another of Victor's tests?

No. I can't afford doubt now.

I type quickly.

Need to speak immediately.

The message shows as delivered, and I hold my breath, counting seconds in my head. One, two, three...

The tablet vibrates in my hands, the screen illuminating with an incoming call. My grandfather's name flashes across the display, making my heart stutter. I accept the call, and his face materializes on the screen.

“I see you received my gift.”

I touch the spot where the gun rests between my breasts. “Your doctor was quite...thorough in his delivery.”

“He comes in handy.” A thin smile stretches across Mikhail's face. “What news do you have for me that requires a call?”

I swallow hard, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Bianca is dead. Victor shot her right in front of me when she couldn't deny your accusations."

Mikhail's expression doesn't change. “As expected. Victor's always been predictable in his rage.”

“I'm to marry Dmitri tomorrow at noon,” I add, watching carefully for his reaction.

My grandfather's face hardens. “That was not our arrangement,” he says, each word cutting like a blade. “You were to eliminate Victor, not bind yourself to his bloodline.”

“I didn't have a choice. You wanted him dead, and offering myself in her place is the only way I could get close to him.” The steam from the shower swirls around me as I lean closer to the screen.

“By becoming a Petrov bride?” He spits the words like venom. Mikhail's face contorts with rage. "I gave you purpose. I gave you power. And this is how you repay me? By marrying the son of the man who destroyed our family?"

“I have no intention of actually marrying Dmitri,” I snap. “The ceremony is a means to an end—your end. Victor’s end. All of it.”

Mikhail’s expression shifts, calculation replacing the simmering tension in his eyes as he studies my face through the screen.

“Explain yourself.”

“I need you there tomorrow,” I say, leaning closer to the tablet. “In person. It's the only opportunity we'll have with both Victor and Dmitri in the same place, vulnerable. You promised me an army, Grandfather. I need it now.”

“After all these years underground, you want me to just show up at Victor Petrov’s doorstep?”

“That's exactly what I expect.” I press my palm against the cold gun hidden in my dress. “Your men are already inside these walls. Your doctor proved that. How many others have you planted in Victor's household over the years?”

“Enough to keep me informed.”

“Then use them. Tomorrow, when I'm standing before Victor and his son, when all eyes are on the bride, that's when we strike.” My heart pounds against my ribs, but my voice remains steady. “But I can't do it alone. I need you there. Not just your men, but you.”

“Why?” The question is sharp, suspicious.

“Because Victor needs to see your face when it all falls apart. He needs to know who orchestrated his downfall.”

A cold smile spreads across Mikhail's face. “You truly are my blood after all.”

“I want Luca and Alex there, too.”

His smile vanishes instantly. “They’re freed after you kill Victor. You know what our arrangement is, granddaughter.”

“And you’ve not sent me my proof of life today. You have not honored your side of the arrangement.”

“You question my honor?”

“I question everything about you,” I reply without hesitation.

"Bring them tomorrow, unharmed, or Victor will know you are still alive. I'll make sure the world knows Mikhail Vasilyev is still alive. I’ll tell every family you’ve robbed of their children what you’ve done.

If you give me what I want, you’ll have your Russian seat before sundown.

You wanted me to be strong, grandfather. Reap the fruit of your efforts.”

“Very well,” he finally concedes, the words seemingly dragged from him. “Your brother and his companion will attend.”

“How generous of you.”

“But know this, Vesper, if you don’t kill Victor, I will execute them in front of you.” The call ends abruptly. The screen dimming.