Page 23

In frustration, I slam the file shut. I've read the same line seventeen times, and each time my mind circles back to Lilibeth. Memories from four days ago return with a vengeance. I took her to bed once, the only time, back in that hut, and since then, I've felt like a man possessed.

Neither of us has brought it up since. Neither of us has made a move.

But I wonder if she thinks of it as I do all the time; her skin against mine, the feel of her breath against my neck.

I wonder if she misses the way my hands caressed her curves, molded them to fit my palms. The memory of her splayed naked on that bed, in nothing but her bra, teases every waking moment of my day.

The longing I feel to stretch her out, to have her warm against my cock makes me zone out during meetings.

What I’d give to hear those sighs, those moans, those breathy little whimpers she made when I plunged into her.

It's been four days. Four days, and I can still feel the pleasure she reduced me to.

Every time I see her and she flashes me that killer smile, the one with the dimples, I forget the world in its entirety. Nowadays, it feels like getting through the day is a chore; One I must complete as fast as I can so I can rush back to her and see that pretty little smile.

I wonder why I waste time here when I could be back home with her. I forget why I deprive myself of her, and nearly convince myself to slam shut my laptop and go back home when that voice roars back in my head with a warning.

You’re not supposed to enjoy her, Agafon.

I frown as I lean back in my chair, the all-too-familiar guilt washing over me. It’s been plaguing me since we slept together, reminding me of the mistakes I’m making.

I didn’t just marry Lilibeth for power. While that was the driving motivation, there’s another intent. I wanted nothing more than to exact my revenge for what she did to my brother, Nikandr. She broke him, and my entire family has suffered a loss because of her actions.

We miss Nikandr. He’s gone, refusing to be a part of our lives, refusing to let us share in his. I was supposed to seduce her and break her heart, but instead, I find myself dreaming of her with sick longing.

What the hell is wrong with me? In a way, it feels like I’m betraying my brother by enjoying her company the way I do.

It would have been an entirely different matter altogether if I’d slept with her to hurt her, to show her what it feels like to have someone use her. But that’s not why I slept with her, was it? That’s not why I dream of her, is it?

I did what I did, seek what I seek, all for my own guilty pleasure. The simple truth is that Lilibeth Orlov has gotten under my skin.

What kind of brother does that make me? A horrible one, for starters.

The guilt rises in my chest for wanting her despite everything and allowing my desire to interfere with family loyalty. On some level, I’ve begun questioning Nikandr's account of what happened between them, and that makes me feel horrible.

My brother came to me broken. He told me how she used and manipulated him during his weakest moments, when he was trying to get clean. How she didn’t support him in his fight against addiction, how she kicked him out when he needed her most.

But the Lilibeth I've come to know seems incapable of such cruelty. From what I’ve noticed, she shows up with a bright smile on her face. She prioritizes family—both hers and mine. Her kindness seems genuine in every way that matters.

So which is it? Is Nikandr right in what he told me? Or am I reading her all wrong?

“Fuck,” I mutter, pressing my hands to my forehead. I shouldn’t even be asking such a question.

I'm supposed to be loyal to my brother. How the hell can I doubt him for a woman I’ve hardly known for two months? What kind of brother betrays his own blood in this way?

I feel like I’ll go batshit crazy as my mind begins to ruminate. I try to get back to work, but just then, the phone rings. The disturbance brings a sense of relief—anything to get my mind off this crazy spot I’ve put myself in with Nikandr and Lilibeth.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Boss, we have a problem.” It's Yegor, my warehouse manager on the East. In the background, I hear gunfire and instantly sit up.

“What’s happening, Yegor?”

He speaks rapidly, screaming to be heard. “There’s an ambush. We were trying to move the shipment, but we’re being attacked.”

I quickly rise, preparing to move. “Casualties?” I ask, as I press the call button for my secretary.

“Two of ours down. Three wounded. They're holding, but it's bad.”

The door flings open. My secretary waits for my instructions.

“We’re coming with back-up soon. Hang tight, Yegor.”

“Sir?” Anastasia asks.

“Round up the convoy and inform my brothers. The warehouse on East is under attack.”

She pales but moves quickly, rushing out of the room. I grab my Makarov from the drawer, pick up some extra bullets, and make my way out.

***

I reach the basement of our office building and find my brothers already there, organizing our convoy.

Faddey looks grim when I walk up to them. Bogdan is busy distributing the weapons among our men, while Ilariy and Melor are checking that all the cars are fueled and that the tires are in good condition, in case we need to get away. Rurik ends a call and walks over to Faddey and me.

“Another two down,” he grimaces.

“Everyone, put on your vests!” I bellow to the ground. Within seconds, we secure ourselves as much as possible against bullets and pile into our cars.

“Move,” I say into the intercom connecting our fleet. Bogdan and Rurik ride with me, while Faddey, Ilariy, and Melor are spread across the other vehicles.

“Any idea who ambushed us?” I ask my brothers.

“It’s the Sokolovs,” Rurik grimaces.

“Those bastards,” I slam my fist on the side. We have a long history with the Sokolovs, and I hate them with every bone in my body.

“They want the Ukraine shipment,” Bogdan adds.

“Of course they do,” I say. “Drive faster,” I tell the driver, before turning back to my brothers. “That shipment is worth millions. The weapons are military grade. Whatever happens, we can’t let the Sokolovs get their hands on it.”

“Never, Brother,” Bogdan promises while Rurik, in that quiet manner of his, checks if his guns and knives are in place.

***

We pull up the industrial warehouse district with speeding tires. Even from two blocks away, I can see the smoke rising from our location.

“Fuck!” I roar as our driver swerves to take a shortcut. I grab my radio to connect with the other cars.

“Park outside the warehouse. We will approach on foot and must enter in a silent formation. The longer our enemies believe they have the upper hand, the faster we win. Bogdan and Melor will flank left. Rurik and Ilariy, you and your men take the roof access.”

The men acknowledge my directions, and I turn to Faddey. “You’re with me. We go in through the loading dock.”

Once parked outside the warehouse, we exit our cars and spread out according to my plan.

The gunfire grows louder as Faddey and I approach.

Through my earpiece, I hear Ilariy's voice: “South entrance secure. There are eight intruders visible from my position. Two on the catwalks, six on the main floor.”

“Copy,” I respond quietly. “Hold position. We're coming.”

I raise my hand, giving Rurik the signal to move toward the roof access. Bogdan and Melor nod once before slipping around the west side.

Faddey and I approach the loading bay doors, crouched low to avoid being seen. Through the gap beneath, I can see some movement. I hold up three fingers, then two, then one.

We burst through the doors with our weapons raised, and two men jump at us.

We’re the first to shoot, and they go down fast. As others join, I roll behind a stack of crates, returning fire while maintaining cover.

Faddey takes position behind a forklift, picking off another man who tried to flank us.

I peer out from the corner of the crate and see that we’re slowly regaining ground. Some of our men at the south entrance have rallied the guards who were taking shelter before our arrival. Together, they’re not more powerful against the Sokolovs.

Good.

From the corner of my eye, I see one of the intruders aiming at Faddey.

“Faddey!” I bellow, but he can’t hear me. I don’t have an aim on his attacker from here, not without risking a bullet to my brother. I quickly rise and lose my cover as I aim for the intruder. In one shot, he’s down.

But just then, I see movement from the corner of my eye, a man aiming right at me. I pivot, but I’m not fast enough.

Fire tears across my shoulder as his bullet grazes me, missing the vest. Fortunately, it doesn’t lodge, but it hurts like hell. I grit my teeth against the pain, drop low, and return fire. My shots catch him in the throat, and he falls, the blood spluttering out of his neck.

Hot, sticky blood seeps through my shirt, and I feel weak as I stand.

“Agafon!” Faddey shouts, concern in his voice.

“I'm fine,” I call back, already moving forward. “Cover me.”

But before I can move any further, Bogdan appears by my side. “We’ve regained our ground,” he tells me, his eyes lingering on my wound. “Most of the men are dead, and the rest are either surrendering or being captured as we speak.”

“There are still some who fight,” I say, through gritted teeth.

Bogdan puts his hand on my good shoulder. “Go home, Brother. Trust me. We’ve got it covered.”

“How’s everyone else?”

He knows what I’m asking. Of course, I’m worried about my men, but it’s my brothers I’d bleed for.

“Everyone’s unharmed, except for you.” His gaze drops to the blood all over me again. “Please, Brother. Go home.”

He looks like he means it. I survey the scene one last time, and from the dying sounds of gunfire and the fact that I can see only three intruders still standing—cornered near the main shipment, firing randomly in panic as though they know they’ve lost—I realize this fight is now over.

“Interrogate them well,” I tell Bogdan and pat him on the shoulder. “Make sure everyone gets home soon.”

Bogdan nods as I make my exit. The truth is, I’m not injured so bad that I must leave. However, I also see this as an opportunity. Should anything happen to me, ever, Bogdan will be my next in line. It’s good that I let him have the opportunity to train while I’m still around.

***

By the time I return home, it’s completely dark. My brothers called just ten minutes ago, asking if they could bring the doctor over, but I shot down that idea. It’s getting late, and everyone needs some rest. I’ve barely been grazed by a bullet.

I can handle it.

I step out of the car and make my way up to the porch and the main entrance. The guard moves to open the door, and I silence him with a finger to my lips, reminding him to remain quiet.

Lilibeth must be asleep, and I would hate to disturb her at this hour.

When he pushes open the door and I find lights on in my living room, I get curious. Is Lilibeth awake? Is it a member of the staff?

I make way and step inside, only to find Lilibeth jumping off the couch, chucking her phone aside as she rushes up to me with wide eyes.

“Oh my god!” she gasps as her eyes rake over my body. She looks positively worried, petrified even, by the sight of me.

“What are you doing up?” I ask in surprise.

“Faddey called me,” she says, stepping closer now. Her gaze drops to my blood-stained shirt, and her expression tightens. “He said you were hurt and too stubborn to see a doctor.”

I frown, making a mental note to have a serious conversation with my brother about boundaries. “So you stayed up?”

“Of course I stayed up!” she shrieks. “In fact, I woke up. You’re hurt. I needed to make sure you were okay, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Faddey called!”

“It's nothing. A graze,” I mumble, taken aback by the extent of her worry.

“You call that a graze?” she asks with such anger that I nearly step back. “Are you insane? That much blood can’t be good. What were you thinking getting in the middle of such a fight? Can’t you be careful? Don’t you have men to help you with things like this?”

I stand there, frozen, as Lilibeth continues her tirade. Her eyes are wide with fear and anger, her cheeks flushed, and her hands gesture wildly. It's the first time someone outside my family has shown such concern for me, and I'm not sure how to handle it.

“Agafon, are you even listening to me?” she demands, her voice trembling slightly. “You could have been killed. Do you understand that? You have people who care about you, who need you. You can't just throw your life away like this.”

“Let me see.” It's not a request. She's already moving toward me, her hands reaching for the hem of my shirt.

“Lilibeth—”

“Shut up and let me help you,” she snaps, and the fierceness in her voice actually silences me.

I blink, taken aback. I've always been the one taking care of others, making sure my family is safe. No one has ever fussed over me like this, not even my own mother. Lilibeth's worry is so raw, so genuine, that I don’t have it in me to fight her any longer.