Page 25

Sabrina

I shift uncomfortably in the bed, tugging the blanket over my thighs. “Oleksi…” I begin as his eyes bore into me. “I’ve been trying to tell you since we left Vegas…”

He doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he lowers himself into the chair beside me and unclips Elena from the sling. She stirs softly but remains asleep as he cradles her in his arms, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

“I’m trying to find the words,” he finally says.

I brace myself.

“I should be furious,” he continues, staring down at my little girl. “That you didn’t try harder to tell me. That I had to hear it from a stranger in a hospital.”

I swallow hard.

“But I’m not,” he adds, glancing at me. “I’m not furious.”

I blink at him, startled. “Uh… You’re not?”

“No.” His voice softens. “Because I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you were going to. Is this what you wanted to tell me when Syd interrupted us in our room in Vegas to tell us the jet was ready?”

I nod.

He nods and looks at Elena again, saying, “I’m going to believe after that you were waiting for the right time. And with everything going on…” He looks at me again. “ I get it.”

My chest caves in with the relief of it.

“I made a promise,” I whisper. “I was so torn between keeping that promise and wanting to tell you the truth about Elena…” I feel tears sting the back of my eyes. “I tried to tell you three times but each time we were interrupted. And each time I fooled myself into believing fate was trying to make me keep my promise that’s why I never had the chance to tell you.”

Oleksi’s eyes bore into mine but not with anger, or disappointment, but questions and I know this time there will be no excuses the truth is about to come out.

“I know the burden of carrying other people’s secrets,” Oleksi tells me. “We’re burdened with their truth, which are not our secrets to tell, and they become our lies to everyone else.”

Ain’t that the truth. I swipe a stray tear from my cheek amazed by how he’s reacting and falling even deeper in love with him.

“Who?” He looks at Elena, softly stroking her cheek before meeting my eyes again. “Whose baby is she?”

Before I can answer we’re once again interrupted as the nurse enters, disrupting the moment.

She hands me a brown pharmacy bag and a clipboard of discharge papers. Oleksi signs them without blinking, and before I know it, I’m being wheeled toward the exit, Elena now bundled in a baby blanket across my chest.

As we step outside into the cold night air, Moscow’s skyline glittering with soft orange lights and snow-dusted rooftops, something shifts inside me. I feel less burdened but there is still a secret I’m holding—the plan Sam gave me—burns hot in my chest.

No matter what happens tonight, I’m leaving tomorrow—I remind myself. I’ll be disappearing. Vanishing from Oleksi’s world to protect him and Elena and the tiny life fluttering inside me. And that is one secret I still have to bare and this time it’s my secret.

I look at him as he wraps his arm around me, his body shielding me from the cold as we walk toward the waiting car.

I memorize the way he looks in the moonlight.

The way he touches me like I’m breakable.

The way he holds me like I’m his entire world.

Because this time tomorrow, he’ll believe I’m dead.

And I’ll be somewhere else, someone else—erased. But if it saves him, if it keeps him breathing, I’ll endure my secret. Even if it breaks me in half.

Oleksi

The car is quiet as we pull away from the hospital, the city lights casting a dull amber glow across Sabrina’s face. She hasn’t said much since we got in—hasn’t had to. I’ve been waiting to ask, needing to, because if we’re really doing this—if we’re really going to walk through fire together—then no more secrets.

“Whose baby is she?”

Her body stiffens beside me. She doesn’t look at me—just stares out the window like she’s hoping I’ll forget I asked. But I don’t. I can’t.

“Tara’s,” she finally says.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Not really. But I still feel something shift in my gut. Something dark. Heavy.

“And the father?” My voice is low, but it carries weight. “Who is it, Sabrina?”

She turns to look at the back seat where Elena’s strapped in, those ridiculous noise-canceling earmuffs covering her tiny ears. Sabrina doesn’t answer. Not right away.

I grip the wheel tighter, knuckles whitening. “Sabrina. Who’s the father?”

Her eyes close for a second too long, and when they open again, they’re glassy.

“Gavriil.”

The breath leaves my lungs like I’ve taken a hit to the chest. My brother. My blood. The truth of it cuts deeper than I expect, even though I already knew. Somewhere deep in my gut, I’ve known since the moment I first saw Elena. The connection had been too strong, too immediate.

“She’s eight months old,” I say. “When’s her birthday?”

“Two days before Gavriil was killed.”

My stomach turns to lead. “Is that why you were so certain Tara wasn’t involved in his murder? Because you were with her?”

Sabrina nods, eyes closing briefly as if steeling herself. “Fifteen months ago, Tara came to me begging for help. Irina had found out about the affair with Gavriil and threatened her. Tara was scared—for the baby, for herself. She didn’t know what to do.”

I listen, eyes on the road, every turn of the steering wheel grounding me in the present while her words drag me through the past.

“I took her to my father’s old cabin outside Vegas. We hid her there. I faked the pregnancy and told people Elena was mine when she was born. Then two days after Elena was born, I woke up to her crying. Tara was gone. She’d left a note on the fridge saying it was the only way to protect Elena, me, and my mom. She made me swear never to tell anyone. Said if anyone knew who Elena really was, we’d all be targets because of who Gavriil was.”

I glance at her. She’s telling the truth—I feel it. And more than that, I can see the relief in her face. She’s been carrying this alone for so long, balancing on the edge of duty, loyalty, and fear. My chest swells with pride and fury all at once.

Elena… my niece. Gavriil’s daughter.

It makes sense now. The bond I’ve felt with her—the instinct to protect her like she was my own. Because Elena is. She’s part of my brother. Part of me.

A bitter taste floods my mouth as I think back to the burner phone I found in Gavriil’s study. The messages between him and Tara, exchanged during the months she would’ve been pregnant—they weren’t just cryptic ramblings of lovers trying to play down what they were feeling. They were real. Meaningful and about how Tara was feeling— fuck Gavriil knew Tara was pregnant ! It hits me like I’ve been struck by a bus.

I glance at Sabrina “Did my brother know?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “No. Tara ended things with him the week before she found out she was pregnant. She broke all contact with Gavriil after the pregnancy was confirmed.”

I don’t tell her about the messages. Not yet. The timing doesn’t feel right. There’s more I need to understand first.

“So Tara disappeared the morning Gavriil was killed?”

“Yes. That same day. I never heard from her again… until that night you came to my dressing room. She called me in a panic—from a phone booth in New York. She begged me to tell my mom to call off the PI we hired. Said he wasn’t who we thought he was. Then I heard gunshots. Clyde’s voice yelling for her to run… she screamed he’d been shot right before the line went dead.”

I believe her.

The car sinks into silence, the hum of the tires the only sound as I try to process the storm of information.

“When we get home,” I say quietly, “I have something to show you.”

She turns toward me, brows pulled. “What?”

“Your sister and Gavriil were in contact the entire time she was pregnant.”

“No.” Her voice is sharp. “No, she told me they hadn’t spoken in months. Why would she lie about that?”

“I don’t know.” I exhale. “But she did. I have the burner phone Gavriil used to speak to her. I’ve had it on me since I found it.”

Sabrina’s voice falters. “Why would she lie? Tara never lies…”

“Unless it’s to protect someone,” I offer, and meet her eyes. “You lied. I’ve lied. Maybe she did too—for the same reason.”

She closes her eyes, the pain flickering across her face before she turns away from me.

“I’m sorry I kept Elena from you.”

“I get it,” I tell her. “But, Sabrina, if we’re going to survive this—whatever the hell this is—there can’t be any more secrets between us.”

She nods. “When we get home I have something I need to tell you too.”

Alarm twists in my gut over that statement but it fades as we turn into the driveway of my home, something shifts. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Something’s wrong.

The gates open like normal, the mansion is lit up in the darkness—but the silence is too heavy. Too unnatural.

I kill the engine, climb out the car, grab Elena’s car seat, and help Sabrina out. The second we step into the house, that feeling spikes. Like the air’s been sucked out of the room.

We make it halfway across the foyer when the windows shatter and the front door explodes inward. Men in tactical gear pour through the openings—Russian Special Forces, their insignia unmistakable.

“What the fuck?” Sabrina breathes.

I shove her behind me and tighten my grip on Elena’s seat.

Three men flank us, guns aimed and steady. I raise my free hand. “Easy,” I say, voice low and say to Sabrina. “Just do what they say.”

Sabrina grips my arm. “Who are they?”

“Special Forces,” I whisper. “Russian military.”

Where the fuck is my team?

The answer comes fast. A tall man strolls through the shattered front doors like he owns the place, flanked by guards—and three of mine. Ivan, Lev, and Syd.

“We’re sorry, boss,” Ivan mutters, his face bruised as they are pushed toward us and they move beside us..

“They hit hard,” Syd adds. “Took out the rest of our men with tranquilizer darts. We took a few down, but…”

“That’s enough,” the tall man snaps in Russian, his voice smooth as steel.

My blood runs cold as I meet the man’s eyes.

Vladislav Egorov.

The Enforcer.

One of the most feared men in Russia.

He meets my eyes. “Good evening, Mr. Mirochin. Apologies for the dramatic entrance.”

“What do you want, General?”

“We’re not here for you,” he replies. “We’re here for Miss Craft.”

My whole body locks up. “What the fuck do you want with my wife?”

He tilts his head, mildly intrigued. “That’s unfortunate to learn you are married to her. But I’m afraid it’s irrelevant. We will still take her with us.”

“Over my dead body,” I growl.

“We’d prefer no bloodshed. But if necessary—”

His eyes flick to Elena, then back to Sabrina, who has gone pale. “Is the child yours?”

Before I can speak, Sabrina blurts, “No. She’s Oleksi and Syd’s.”

Syd picks up fast. “Yes. She’s mine. Oleksi and I had an affair.”

Syd snatches Elena from me. “Don’t you dare put a hand on my daughter.”

I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m drowning in all the lies, all the chaos, as Vladislav nods slowly.

“We don’t need the child,” he says. “But Miss Craft… you’ll come with us. Now.”

“No.” I grab Sabrina’s hand. “If you take her, I’m coming with.”

“That won’t be possible Mr. Mirochin.” His eyes drag past me and land on Sabrina. “You have one minute Miss Craft to walk toward me,” Vladislav says coldly. “Or I will have everyone on this estate who is not one of mine killed. And that young baby will become a ward of the state.”

Sabrina gasps. I feel her shift beside me. I know what she’s about to do.

She turns to me and kisses me.

“No,” I whisper. “Don’t do this.”

“I have to,” she breathes. “There’s a burner phone in my bag. Call Sam. Then come find me—find us.” She gives me a sad knowing smile and I see her resolve is made. Those fierce instincts to protect all she loves shine through her eyes.

She presses my hand to her stomach. “I love you,” she says into my ear. “Please come find us.”

“I’ll burn this whole fucking country down to find you,” I promise, my hand still gripping hers.

She gently extracts her hand and turns toward me and Syd. “Look after Elena.”

“With my fucking life,” Syd hisses and I see a sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.

“We won’t let anyone harm a hair on her head,” Ivan vows.

She gives us all an overly bright smile before turning and walking away. Chin high. Fearless.

Just like her.

“I will come with you,” I hear Sabrina address the general. “But if you harm a hair on my family’s head…”

Vladislav watches her with something like admiration. “You are just like her,” he murmurs, then turns to me. “Good night, Mr. Mirochin. Don’t make me regret sparing you.”

The moment they leave, I snap. I lunge forward—but Lev and Ivan hold me back.

“Don’t,” Ivan warns. “We’ll get her.”

“She’s tough,” Syd says. “She’ll survive.”

“I’m not leaving her out there.”

“We know,” Lev says. “We’re with you.”

They all are.

We stand in silence until the soldiers vanish like smoke.

“Fuck. She slept through the whole thing,” Syd mutters, glancing at Elena.

“The earmuffs,” Lev says.

I take Elena back and hold her close. My niece. Gavriil’s daughter.

“I’m giving you all the chance to walk,” I tell them. “Or stay and help me take on the Russian fucking Army.”

“We’re in,” Ivan says.

“Ride or die,” Lev adds.

“Always,” Syd confirms.

“Then we start at dawn.”

I walk upstairs, heart a mess of fear, fury, and grief. I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I reach the bedroom. I place Elena on the bed, eyes falling on Sabrina’s oversized purse.

I empty it out, searching—until I find the burner phone.

A message pops up instantly.

Take Elena and come to the nursery.

I grab her and move.

The door creaks open.

“Clyde,” I breathe, staring at the man who steps from the shadows. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’ve died a few times,” he says with a grin.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was supposed to extract you, Sabrina, and Elena from Moscow.”

“You’re too late.”

“Yeah.”

“You knew this was coming?”

“I had a hunch,” Clyde mutters, stepping fully out of the shadows. His tone’s not casual anymore—it’s grave. There’s a storm brewing behind his eyes, and I can feel it before he even speaks again.

“Why?” I grind out, my grip tightening on Elena’s car seat. “Why would Russian Special Forces come after Sabrina?”

He looks me square in the face, no hesitation.

“They want Carla. And Tara.”

I snarl under my breath, fury rising like bile. “So this is about them. And now Sabrina’s caught in the fucking crossfire.”

Clyde doesn’t flinch. But his next words gut me.

“Let’s just hope we find her before the people who sent Vladislav realize…” He hesitates, his eyes dropping for a beat—just long enough to flick toward Elena. Then back to me. “…just how special Sabrina really is.”

I open my mouth—but he cuts me off, voice low and cold now.

“Because if they do…” He steps closer. “…we’ll never find her. And Sabrina will never see the light of day again.”

END OF BOOK 3

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