Page 10

Pavel

I give her one lasting look, savoring the sight of her spent and unable to move. Her chest rises and falls slowly, a silent testament to the furious rhythm that had consumed us. I can see the exhaustion in the way her limbs are strewn, the way her skin glistens, still damp, from the heat between us.

Her state feeds an intoxicating surge of triumph within me. Her fierce spirit, the same that spat curses and rebellion at me, lies subdued for the moment. This is the control I have seized, the dominance I have secured in her submission. Every bead of sweat, every rise and fall of her chest, fuels the fire of my conquest.

I turn away and head towards the door, pulling on my clothes as I go. I don't look back at her, not wanting to break the spell of power I have over her. I know she's watching me, her eyes following my every move. But I don't care. I have what I want.

I open the door and step out into the hallway. I opted to have no guards at this apartment building, wanting to keep her away from their eyes. There are only four people who know she is here. Roman, Victor, Mikhail and me. The less people know, the better. The last thing that we need, especially now with everything coming into play so beautifully.

I take the elevator down to the ground floor, feeling a cool detachment wash over any residual heat. I slip inside my car and let the solitude blanket me, the silence seeping in and settling like a haze of smoke. It’s cleansing, the way it fills the space, purging any lingering thoughts of her from my mind. My focus is renewed, unswayed by what I left behind. What happened up there, what she might hope it means, is nothing but a fleeting moment already fading into irrelevance. A physical exchange, no more significant than a momentary indulgence, a strategic release of energy meant to keep her under my thumb.

That thing between us earlier—it doesn’t mean anything. I have to keep reminding myself of this truth. I can’t allow emotions to rattle me the way that they have been. I need to stay the course and keep the focus.

Mikhail’s already at the front, leaning against the reinforced door like he’s been waiting. He’s smoking. Of course, he is. As I approach, he glances over, one brow raised.

“Before you try to yell at me, I need you to save your breath. I am tired, and I get it. You like her.”

I don’t slow my stride. “Shut up.”

He huffs out a low laugh, flicks the cigarette to the ground, and follows me in.

“She just gets under my skin sometimes—this girl of yours,” Mikhail says once we’re inside. “There is something about her that unnerves me as I have never been unnerved before.”

I stop, just for a second. I watch his face for a moment. I see it in his eyes. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I know that this woman does have him frazzled in ways I have never seen him be frazzled before.

Then I keep walking.

We reach the inner hallway, steel doors lining both sides. I stop in front of the weapons room and finally turn to face him.

“Well, I left her asleep. She will wake up to work on the encryption,” I say. “She’ll break his encryption in the next few hours, if not tomorrow. She had already done most of the work before I took her.”

“You trust her to do it?” he asks. The words aren’t sarcastic—but they’re not neutral, either.

“I don’t trust anyone. But she’s motivated. And grief is a hell of a motivator.”

He studies me for a beat too long. “She also has you acting out of sorts.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

Instead, I step in closer and drop my voice until it cuts like ice.

“Why do you not like her so much?”

He doesn’t blink. But his mouth tightens. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” I add, leaning just slightly forward. “You want her. Maybe not like I do. Maybe not with the same… poison in your veins. But it’s there.”

He exhales slowly. “She’s not yours, Pavel. Not really.”

“She’s mine as long as I say she is,” I say it calmly.

I see the flicker in his eyes. I know that he is only looking out for my best interest, but I know what I’m doing. I don’t need anyone interrupting what she and I have—they wouldn’t understand anyway.

“Go check in on her,” I say, stepping back. “Make sure she doesn’t burn the place down.”

Mikhail nods once, jaw still tight, and turns toward the exit. I watch him leave. I push the door to the war room open, and I see the large table that is meant to fit at least 15 essential personnel.

Roman hunched over the table, tracing his finger along the edges of a city map covered in red ink and bloodstains—old and new. Victor leans against the wall with his arms crossed, a fresh scar above his brow from the last shipment that didn’t go quietly.

“Three ports under Dmitri’s control,” Roman says without looking up. “But two of the customs agents are on our payroll now. If we hit them from the north and cut off his shipments, the others will start asking questions.”

Victor grunts in agreement. “You want to get him; you start with his pockets. The street crews will fold once the money dries up.”

“Then we move on to his lieutenants,” I say, stepping closer. “Not with bullets. With leverage. We peel them away one by one until he’s left surrounded by ghosts.”

They nod. No one questions the plan. This is why I knew I could trust them. They have been my most loyal men, and they have stood by me through the test of time.

We continue to strategize and catch each other up on our individual assignments. I am so lost in what I am doing that the buzzing of my phone jolts me back.

Mikhail.

I don’t usually answer mid-strategy. He knows that. This means that this call isn’t routine and that something is wrong.

I answer. “Talk.”

His voice cuts through the line, tight and fast. “The apartment’s been hit.”

Everything in me stills. Anya.

“What do you mean, hit?”

“Ransacked. The door kicked in. Place torn apart.” A pause. “Anya’s gone.”

The words slam into me like a steel bat to the ribs. That’s not possible. I just left her. She was working. She was fine.

“Anyone dead?”

“No bodies. Just blood. I don’t think she went willingly. Her computer is gone as well.” His voice is a little uneasy and makes me pause. Mikhail is always so cool and collected. To have him so on edge is unlike him. “Dmitri is back.”

My throat catches the oxygen in my trachea.

“When?”

“From what I can tell? Almost three hours ago. He flew in like a thief in the night. No one knew of his arrival.” Mikhail curses under his breath in Russian. “Suka, blyad. I think he knows, boss.”

Shit. That is never good.

“Dmitri,” I breathe, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. “I will get her location. You search the apartment for any clues of what the fuck happened and why she was able to be taken.”

I had thought that moving her there would keep her out of harm's way. But I had played right into his hands, and now he has the one thing capable of crippling me.

A cold shiver slides down my spine. The kind that only comes when something you thought was yours is suddenly out of reach.

“Be on standby.” I end the call without another word and pull out my second phone.

I unlock the app buried beneath two layers of false folders—nothing but code until the last swipe reveals the real purpose. I plugged it into her computer a few days back.

Tracking beacon: AN-01

“Pavel?” It’s Victor who speaks first. “Are you okay?”

I ignore him and focus on getting her exact location. For once, I am thankful for my sheer obsession with this woman. It could be the very thing that saves her tonight.

Her signal pings.

Not offline. Not destroyed. Relocated.

And the location. I stare at the blinking dot. The penthouse. But not just any penthouse—my penthouse.

Roman watches me from across the table. “Problem? What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I close the app, already walking. “Anya’s been taken, and we need to go and get her.”

“Where are you going?” Roman is already falling into step with me. Victor is following closely behind. “Do you have her exact location?”

“The penthouse—he took her there.” I can feel the gun in my holster burning a hole in my pocket. “Dmitri is back, and it looks like he may be onto my plan. Shit is about to get very, very real.”

I stop and stand at the exit with a pensive look. “I know that neither of them signed up to do this. I called you to war, and you both answered me, but this is where things get real now.”

“We are walking into a bloodbath, and I will not think any less of you if you want to pull away now. I will not fault you.”

They stand there, their eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty. They are my brothers in arms, and we have bled for each other once before, but I cannot ask them to do it again simply for…her.

She means something to me, but to them, she is nothing more than a woman.

Roman moves first before placing his hand on my shoulder. "If war is where you are going, brother," he begins, his voice even and calm, "then war we shall go to."

“To war.” Victor lifts his gaze. “We are in this together. From now until the very end.”

I nod in agreement. “Until the very end.”

I had always anticipated this day, yet now that it has arrived, my heart is caught in a tug-of-war between acceptance and denial, teetering precariously on the brink.

To war, we go.