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OLEKSI

My breath catches in my throat, and fear jolts through me at Clyde’s words. I open my mouth to press him for more information, but his phone buzzes. Elena jumps at the noise, and I feel her little heart speed up as she lets out a soft wail.

“Sh, sh, sweetheart,” I coo. “It’s okay.” Syd finds the pacifier and hands it to me. Within a few seconds, Elena settles down with a bit of a glare at all of us for having disturbed her before closing her eyes and cozying back into my chest.

My attention turns back to Clyde, who is scowling at his screen, before looking up at us. “That was my contact in Moscow who was helping me look into Lidiya Zorin and just found an address linked to a birth certificate buried under Soviet-era security protocols.”

“Where?” I demand, my heart jolting. This could be a lead that gets us closer to finding where they took Sabrina.

“A farm near the southern Russian Black Sea coast. Close to a port town called Gloubaya Bukhta.”

I know the place instantly. The memory of it comes at me hard and fast. “I know that little shithole town. It’s not far from Dragunov Village or my Uncle Dmitri’s Golden Palace.”

Syd crosses her arms, a skeptical arch to her brow. “Fuck me, do you think Dmitri’s involved?”

I exhale, long and hard. “I sure as shit hope not.” My eyes narrow thoughtfully. “We’re on better terms now that he’s not trying anymore of his shit with hostile takeovers of the Mirochin Bratva.”

“Or the world,” Ivan reminds us.

“Yeah, we had our own Doctor Evil not so long ago,” Lev snorts.

“Let’s hope it’s just a fucking coincidence this farm is located so close to both my uncle’s palace and Dragunov Village, one of our family’s loyal towns.” While I don’t want to believe Dmitri is involved, I can’t rule it out, although my uncle has never been a fan of the Russian military or government. “If not, at least we have some place to lay low while we figure things out.”

“Does this mean we’re going to investigate the farm?” Syd’s eyes light with excitement.

“Fucking damn straight we are,” I reply with vigor. “There must be some connection.”

“I’m all for it,” Lev says. “But how the fuck do you plan on getting us out of here?” Lev asks. “RMSAD is watching us. We can’t just walk out the front door and take the SUVs as they’re sure to follow us.”

I stare him down. “We’ll get out of here without them seeing us.”

Clyde taps his phone and looks me in the eye. “I know a contact who can get us out of Moscow. But I have to warn you, the ride won’t be comfortable.”

“I’d travel on the back of a fucking donkey that has a penchant to bite or buck if it means finding Sabrina. I don’t give a fuck about comfort as long as it gets us to our destination fast and undetected.”

Clyde nods, turning to his phone. “I’ll make a quick call. Get ready to leave at a moment’s notice,” he warns, and walks toward the front door that my men are currently fixing.

I barely have time to process his words when Magda appears, her eyes wide with shock at the mess my men are trying hard to get back in order.

“What is going on?” Magda asks, and Syd quickly fills her in on what happened. The color drains from Magda’s face, but she gives a quick, sure nod. “Where did they take Sabrina?” Her eyes meet mine.

“That’s what we are going to figure out,” I reply. “And the reason I’m going to need you to keep an even closer eye on Elena and don’t stray too far from any of us.” My eyes move to Lev. “Lev, you are now Magda and Elena’s shadow.”

“Right, boss,” Lev says with a nod.

“We need to pack for a trip out of town,” I tell Magda as I gently unstrap the baby sling, reluctantly handing my little niece to her while trying not to think about my other child, the one growing inside Sabrina. “

“Of course,” Magda says to Elena. “We’ll be ready in no time.”

She turns and walks upstairs, and Lev is about to follow when I stop him. “You need to get ready as well.”

“I’ll do that for him,” Ivan offers. “Right now, with these fuckers watching us, it’s best to have Elena watched at all times. We don’t know when they’ll figure out Sabrina was lying about who our little angel is.”

I hide my smile at the use of his words, our little angel, as she’s become a priority to my team now, who I know will protect her with their lives. Which, if anything happens to me, at least gives me some peace of mind.

Two hours later, we’re stuffed into the back of an old delivery truck and on our way to the south coast, which I know is going to be a brutal drive in a death trap. We haven’t even gotten to the worst part of the drive yet, and the truck feels like it’s bouncing straight off the road. Its engine is groaning at the pace the driver is pushing it.

Lev gives me a pained look. “Clyde’s right about this trip not being comfortable—it’s like riding in one of those rides at a state fair that you know hasn’t been well looked after.”

He’s not wrong there. Our breath fogs the air like ghosts as the truck rattles through the back roads heading toward our destination. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Sabrina, leaving little room for the physical discomfort. Elena, once again strapped to me in her baby sling, only this time facing everyone in the truck, is the only one enjoying the ride. Giggling with glee every time the truck hits a bump, and I’m sure her little squeals are baby for, again, again.

The others in my team are huddled around on the hard benches, each hanging on to whatever they can find to stop them from being flung off their seats.

The road is endless, and the hours tick by agonizingly slowly. We don’t even stop to stretch our legs. As we draw nearer to our destination, my mind starts to tick over.

“Are we ready?” I look at Syd, Ivan, Lev, and Clyde. “We don’t know what we’re riding into here. It could very well be a trap.” My eyes fall on Clyde.

“My contact is solid, but you never know,” Clyde acknowledges.

“We’re ready, Oleksi,” Ivan assures him.

“Lev? Magda?” I look over them.

“I’ll stay back with Lev and Elena until it is safe,” Magda repeats the drill. “If there is any sign of trouble, I’m to follow Lev and head for Dmitri’s palace, where we will wait. If we don’t hear from you in a day, I’m going to get Dmitri to contact Sam Winters.”

“Good!” I nod and catch Lev’s attention. “I’m counting on you, Lev.”

“I won’t let you down, boss,” Lev assures me. “I’ll protect our little angel with my life.”

“I know you will,” I tell him.

Finally, after what feels like days, the truck grinds to a halt, and I hold my breath, anticipation tight as wire in my chest. The driver kills the engine, and voices cut through the cold, louder than they should be. My muscles coil, bracing for a fight, but not before one last thought cuts in like a blade: We could be heading straight into the hands of the RMSAD.

I hold my breath as the back doors swing open. Armed guards approach, and for a split second, the panic flares bright. But there’s something off. They don’t look hostile. The first guard nods when he sees us, steps back, closes the door, and I hear him tell the driver to proceed in Russian. The vehicle shakes as it starts up again, and we begin to move.

I exhale, the relief almost violent as Clyde clarifies, “They’re not RMSAD.”

Clyde opens the back of the truck so we can see where we’re going. The guards guide the truck through the gates into a massive compound. It has the look of a farm but the bones of a fucking fortress.

We reach the main building, and when the vehicle stops, this time the guard ushers us out of the vehicle. Stretching my legs, I look at the house in front of me. It looks like a traditional Russian dacha—a two-story, sprawling home crafted from rich, dark wood, with weathered stone foundations and a steeply pitched, green-tiled roof, built to withstand brutal winters.

A deep front porch runs the length of the house, adorned with sturdy carved columns and heavy rocking chairs. Ivy and thick climbing roses creep up the sides of the stone chimney and wrap around the porch rails, creating a peaceful, almost storybook illusion as it sits tucked into the rolling, forested lower foothills of the Caucasus Mountains.

But seeing the fortified entrance to the farm, I’m sure it is just that, an illusion, and that the inside of the house will tell an entirely different story. My senses go on instant alert when another heavily armed guard with calm, assessing eyes approaches us, speaking English with a pronounced Russian accent.

“Follow me,” the guard grunts, turning on his heel and leading us up the few stairs to the front door. “You are expected.”

Expected? That makes my senses go on even higher alert—no one was supposed to know we were coming. My head turns to Clyde, who catches my eye and obviously knows what I’m thinking and has had the same thought.

He steps closer to me. “I’m telling you, my contact who arranged this transport is solid,” he whispers and glances back toward the truck. “So is our driver.” His brow furrows worriedly.

“Or they’re not!” I point out. “This is Russia, after all. You never know who is an enemy or ally.” My eyes narrow, turning back to the front door. “Just be ready.”

“We all are, boss,” Ivan assures me.

My arms wrap protectively around Elena.

“Do you want me to take her and stay back?” Magda asks from behind me.

I turn to look at her and shake my head. “Stay with Lev,” I order. “Clyde, Ivan, and Syd will go in first.”

“We were going to anyway,” Clyde tells me, stepping protectively in front of me. Ivan and Syd do the same while Magda and Lev stay behind me. Lev is keeping an eye on anyone approaching us from behind.

The guard uses the large brass knocker, giving three heavy raps on the door. He waits for what feels like an eternity, but it’s about two minutes before his phone bleeps. He checks it, opens the door, pushes it wide, and steps back onto the porch, standing to one side so we can enter.

“You may go in,” the guard’s words come out like an order.

Clyde, followed by Ivan and then Syd step in first and my gut twists when I hear Clyde hiss, “What the fuck!”

I’m about to retreat with Elena when Syd and Ivan step aside, and I stare at the four people who are standing in the foyer with a mix of disbelief and confusion.

“What the fuck!” I repeat Clyde’s initial shock.

Carla, my Aunt Galina, Mark, and Nikolas are standing, staring back at us, and they don’t look shocked to see us—it’s clear that they knew we were coming.

My brain stalls. I blink once, twice, and Elena starts to wriggle in glee, her little arms reaching out toward Carla.

“You’re all alive?” The words tumble out, a mix of shock, anger, and accusation.

“Hello, Oleksi.” My aunt steps up to me and kisses my cheeks. “You sound disappointed to find us alive?” She smiles as she leans toward Elena, taking her little hands, kissing her cheek. I hear my aunt whisper. “Privet, moya malen’kaya printsessa, tyotya Galina ochen’ skuchala po tebe.”

My heart stills for a few seconds, and suspicion swirls through me as my aunt steps back. Her words rush through my head: ‘Hello, my little princess. Aunt Galina missed you very much.’ I’m struck with the thought: does my aunt know who Elena really is?

Before I can ponder on it, Carla is there, lifting a now incredibly excited Elena, who obviously loves Carla and my aunt very much, from the baby sling, and I find myself having to stop from snatching her back. I’m struck by just how possessive and how much Elena has come to mean to me.

I take a mental deep breath and try my best not to curl my hands into fists. It’s taking every inch of restraint I have not to snatch my little angel back.

“You look like you were expecting us,” I say, gritting my teeth.

Nikolas offers a faint smile. “Your driver called me as soon as you were on the road. After all, he does work for me.”

My gaze snaps to Clyde as he steps in and nods. “We thought they were missing, remember?”

“True.” I nod back and turn back to the four people in front of us, my eyes narrowing when my aunt takes Elena from Carla. My mind is ticking over as the questions start to pile up, but before I can voice any of them, Carla pushes me aside to see who the last two people are who are with us and still standing in the doorway.

Carla’s eyes scan them, her expression shifting from surprise to concern. “Where’s my daughter?” she demands, turning to me, her voice rising. “Oleksi, where is Sabrina?”

The words hit like bullets, reopening wounds that are still raw. My chest tightens, and I can barely force the explanation past my lips. “At roughly four this morning, my house in Moscow was stormed by a group I now know as the RMSAD, led by that fucking butcher General Ergorov…” I swallow at the image of Sabrina kissing me and telling me to find us, which hits me like a sledgehammer to the heart. “He took her.”

Carla’s face drains of color, and she staggers. “No, no, no,” she whispers, desperation cracking her voice.

I see her sway as her knees start to buckle, but Mark catches her before she falls, wrapping her in a protective hold, steadying her.

Carla’s breathing becomes shallow, and her eyes fill with tears as she turns to Nikolas. “They have both my girls, Nik.”

My eyes narrow with confusion, but before I can say anything, Clyde demands, “What do you mean?” His eyes dart between Nikolas, my aunt, and Mark, landing on Carla. “The RMSAD has Tara, too?” The muscle on the side of his jaw ticks. “How do you know?”

Carla nods, wiping a tear from her cheek and clearing her throat. “The day you were shot, Clyde. We believe that when she left you at the hospital, Tara made it to the New Jersey safe house, but she was apprehended by somebody who we believe to be an RMSAD operative.”

“One of my sources in Georgia sent me this.” Nikolas pulls out a phone and scrolls to a photo he holds up to show us. “My source followed them but lost them at the Russian border, where they disappeared.”

Clyde takes the phone and studies it. “Christ, it’s Tara.” He hands the phone back to Nikolas. “She wanted us to find her. I told her to wear those ratty old graffitied sneakers and that hoodie with the sunflower in the hood to ensure we could identify her if she were taken.”

Clyde hands me the phone. I look at the tall, broad-shouldered man in a baseball cap, guiding a hooded woman to a vehicle. My gut twists. The clothes are unmistakable, and it was clever of Clyde to come up with that. Nikolas leans forward and flicks to the next photo.

“This shot confirms it was her,” Nikolas tells us. “My contact managed to snap it because as Tara was being pushed through the door, I think she was trying to look up at one of the security cameras.”

“Just like I told her,” Clyde mutters, pride in Tara following his instructions shining in his eyes. “Your contact couldn’t ID the man with her?”

“No.” Nikolas shakes his head. “The man knew how to keep from being seen and had shades on.”

“That’s fucking just great,” Syd says, shaking her head and leaning in to look at the photo. “What’s that?” She points at something on the man’s wrist. “It looks like some sort of mark.”

I blow the photo up, but all I see is a blob that looks like a tattoo or blue birthmark. “I can’t make it out.”

“I have my technical guys trying to clean the photo up,” Nikolas tells us.

Before we can say anything else, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway draws my attention. I nearly stagger as the elderly couple walks toward us with grace and power, their faces instantly recognizable.

“Our guests have arrived,” the woman says, stopping beside my aunt. Her face softens into a smile as she looks at Elena.

“Yes.” Carla turns to us, stepping out of Mark’s hold. “Oleksi. Everyone. I’d like you to meet your hosts, Anya Novikov-Morozova and Timofey Morozov.” She pauses, like one of those game show hosts waiting to let the contestant know if they are right or not before dropping the bombshell without missing a beat. “My parents.”

Her words explode inside my chest like dynamite. The legendary ghosts of Russian military and intelligence history. The man who rewrote military history and the woman known as the Jewel of Russia, claimed to be the most intelligent in the world, are Sabrina’s grandparents?

“What the fuck?” I exhale realization crashing over me, the blood runs ice-cold in my veins.

A cold realization punches through me.

Now I know why Ergorov took Sabrina.

She isn’t just any high-potential asset—she’s the granddaughter of two of the most brilliant minds on earth.

Clyde’s warning from earlier slams into focus.

It’s not just Sabrina’s mind at risk.

It’s our baby she’s carrying.

The next heir to the most feared crime family on earth.

If RMSAD finds out, they won’t hesitate.

They’ll hide Sabrina and our child so deep we’ll never find them, and God only knows what they will do to them or what they will try to turn them into.

But I won’t let that happen.

Not to Sabrina. Not to our child.