Page 19

Hours after the last troop transport lifted off the palace grounds, peace settles over the estate like snowfall. The golden light of early evening spills through the tall windows, casting soft shadows across the rug in the sitting room.

Elena sits between Sabrina’s legs, babbling happily as she gnaws on a silicone giraffe. Her laughter bubbles up like champagne—light, unburdened. It’s the sound of safety. A sound I didn’t think we’d ever hear again.

Sabrina meets my eyes and smiles.

I lean down to kiss Elena’s forehead and murmur, “You’re too young to understand, princess, but the war we fought today... it was for you.”

There’s a knock on the door.

Syd steps in. “Package just arrived. Marked for you.”

I take it, thank her, and close the door.

It’s plain, hand-delivered by someone high-level. I cut the seal and open it carefully.

Inside is a neatly folded set of papers—thick, creamy stock, the kind used for official signatures.

The Dragunov crest is watermarked in the corner.

Signed.

Dated.

Stamped.

The alliance between the Mirochins and Dragunovs is once again secured.

I let out a breath, turning it over in my hands.

Sabrina tilts her head. “What is it?”

I lift the first page. “The new treaty. The elusive Ruslan Dragunov signed it.”

Her brows shoot up. “Already?”

“Apparently, yes.” I grin, seeing the impish glint in her eyes. “What did you do?”

She shrugs, feigning innocence. “Just sent him a little something to watch that I found of him and his buddy Konstantin discussing the cleanup of one of Mikhail’s messes.”

I stare at her. “Seriously?”

She smirks. “I was very polite. I even said ‘please’.”

I shake my head, amazed, and utterly in love. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“Too late for that,” she teases.

But then her smile falters. Her hand drifts to her pocket, pulling out her watch.

“What is it?” I ask, already on edge again.

“Tara,” she whispers. “I told Ruslan he had to get her to us by five today.”

My gut tightens. I check my own watch. Four-fifty-nine.

And then—like fucking clockwork—my phone rings.

Unknown number.

Sabrina and I lock eyes.

I swipe to answer.

“Hello?”

A familiar female voice comes through. “Oleksi?”

Sabrina snatches the phone. “Tara?”

“Rina!” her voice explodes with emotion, and I hear the simultaneous relief and excitement in Sabrina’s gasp.

“Oh my God. Rina!”

“Where are you?” Sabrina breathes. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Tara laughs. “No. I’m okay. I was saved from the RMSAD. And… well…”

She lifts her hand.

There’s a ring on her finger.

Sabrina’s mouth falls open. “You’re engaged?”

Tara grins. “Married.”

“Married?” I echo, stepping closer to the screen.

“To whom?” Sabrina stares in shock at her sister’s hand.

Tara laughs. “The man who saved me. Who risked everything to do so.”

And then the screen shifts slightly.

A tall, handsome man steps into view beside her.

Jet-black hair. Piercing eyes. Cold, calculating stare.

Sabrina stiffens beside me. “That’s him,” she whispers. “The man in the woods—the messenger.”

My hand tightens around her waist, pulling her slightly behind me. Protective. Instinctive.

Tara doesn’t seem to notice the shift.

“I’m married to Ruslan Dragunov,” she announces, as if dropping a bomb.

“Hello,” Ruslan says. His voice is smooth, velvet-wrapped steel. “Nice to finally meet you both.”

I nod curtly, keeping my expression unreadable.

Sabrina manages a polite smile. “Where are you? If you’re still in Russia, we’d love to see you. Especially Mom.”

Tara falters. “We… we can’t,” she says, her eyes flicking to Ruslan, who smoothly takes over.

“We’re laying low for a while,” he says. “Some of my former clients have recently been arrested. There’s… interest in tracking down all associations.”

I don’t miss the pointed nature of that comment.

“Thanks for the alliance,” I say coolly, moving the conversation away from who got his ‘client’ locked up. “I’ll have my legal team review the details and get back to you.”

“Of course,” Ruslan says smoothly, his gaze raking over us. “It’s a mutually beneficial agreement.”

There’s a long pause.

Tension simmers under the surface.

Sabrina clears her throat. “Where are you going to lay low?”

Tara blinks. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“But—” Sabrina falters, panic bubbling to the surface. She glances at me helplessly.

I step in. “She wants to ask you something.”

Tara cocks her head.

Sabrina straightens. “I want to ask you to be my maid of honor.”

Tara’s jaw drops. “You’re getting married?”

“Yes,” we say in unison.

Her eyes widen. “When? Where?”

“In Vegas,” I say. “Four weeks.”

“There’s a lot of planning to do,” Sabrina adds quickly. “And I need help.”

“I…” Tara glances sideways at Ruslan again. Something flickers in her expression. “Oh, Rina...”

Sabrina’s eyes begin to gloss over, and I see her knuckles tighten.

“We have to lay low…” Tara repeats, voice gentle.

“Come lay low in Vegas,” Sabrina says. “You can stay in our apartment. I live with Oleksi now.”

She crouches, scooping up Elena.

“And… what about your niece?” Sabrina lifts her up so she’s visible on the screen. “You haven’t even met her yet.”

Tara gasps, eyes softening. “You… you already had a baby?”

“She’s eight months old,” I say, stepping in before Sabrina blurts out more. “She’s ours. And…” I place a hand on Sabrina’s stomach. “We’ve got another on the way.”

Tara stares at us.

Stunned.

Silent.

“I…” she fumbles. “Rina… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come home,” Sabrina pleads. “Say you’ll help me plan my wedding.”

There’s a beat.

Then Tara glances sideways again.

I see it now—what I missed before.

She’s scared.

But not of us.

Of him.

She tries to mask it with a smile, but I can see right through it.

“What do you say, Ruslan?” Sabrina says, tone deceptively light. “Bring my sister home. Don’t make me sad on my wedding day.”

A flicker of understanding passes between them.

That was a threat. Polished. Polite. Laced in steel.

A smile lifts the corner of Ruslan’s mouth. “We’ll let you know,” he says. “We have to go.”

The screen goes dark.

Sabrina lowers the phone slowly.

“That didn’t feel right,” I say.

“No,” she agrees. “She was trying too hard. And Ruslan… he’s watching her like she’s… his.”

“She didn’t look free,” I mutter.

“I want to find her,” Sabrina says softly. “Before we go home.”

I pull her into my chest and kiss the crown of her head. “I have a feeling they’ll come to us.”

She tilts her face up. “Why?”

“Because you’re not the only one who knows how to threaten people.”

Her lips twitch. “Your threats aren’t quite as... veiled.”

“Nope,” I say. “They’re much more effective.”

We’re interrupted by the soft ding of my phone.

I glance at the screen.

It’s a message from Ruslan.

We accept your invitation. As it turns out, I have business in the United States. We’ll arrive in a week or two.

“Told you,” I say, holding it up for her to read.

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Invite them to stay at the hotel.”

I sigh, grab my phone, and type out the message.

“There,” I mutter. “Anything else?”

Elena reaches for me. I lift her into my arms, and she snuggles against my chest with a sleepy sigh.

Sabrina curls up beside us on the couch, resting her head against my shoulder.

“I hope she’s okay,” she whispers.

“She will be,” I promise.

We sit in silence for a while, letting the fire crackle and the tension melt away.

“I think we’d better gather the family,” I say after a moment.

Sabrina frowns. “No. I don’t want to tell my mother just yet. She’s been through so much already.”

“What don’t you want to tell me?” Carla’s voice startles us.

She steps into the room, her gaze immediately softening when she sees us all curled together.

“Tara just called,” I tell her gently.

“What?” Carla’s eyes widen. “Is she okay? Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” Sabrina says. “She’ll be in Vegas in two weeks.”

“For our wedding,” I add.

Carla blinks. “You’re getting married?”

“We are,” I say with a small smile.

Carla’s face splits into the widest grin I’ve ever seen. She steps forward, kisses us both on the cheek, and scoops up Elena. “I’ll put our little princess down.”

We watch her disappear down the hallway, humming softly to our little girl.

I turn to Sabrina.

“Come with me.”

I lead her through to the bedroom and shut the door.

“Close your eyes.”

She arches a brow. “Seriously?”

“Trust me.”

She does. Eyes shut. Breath held.

I move to the dresser, retrieve the ring box I’ve hidden for weeks, and drop to one knee.

“Open.”

She opens her eyes, and her mouth drops open.

“Sabrina Craft,” I say, voice hoarse, “will you marry me? And promise you’ll never go off on a life-saving adventure without me by your side again?”

Tears spring to her eyes as she nods. “Yes. Yes. A million times yes.”

I slide the ring on her finger, and then I’m on my feet, pulling her into my arms and kissing her like it’s the first time all over again.

When we finally break apart, she grins up at me through her tears.

“Although…” she says breathlessly. “I can’t promise anything about the adventure part.”

I laugh, hold her tighter, and kiss her again.

Because if we’re going to face more madness in this life—we’ll do it together.

Always.

THE END