Page 22

The phone rings, shattering my concentration. I glance at the caller ID—it's Maxim, the guard I assigned to watch over Natalia's store. My pulse quickens as I answer.

"Boss, something's not right," Maxim's anxious voice crackles through the line. "The investor's here, but Mrs. Zolotov looks… tense. Really tense. I can see them through the window and her body language is all wrong."

"What exactly are you seeing, Maxim?" I demand, already rising from my desk.

"She's backing away from him, arms crossed. And he keeps moving closer. I've never seen her look so uncomfortable, even with difficult customers."

A growl builds in my throat. No one makes my Natalia uncomfortable. But I force myself to take a steadying breath. "Keep watching. I'm on my way."

I hang up, conflict warring inside me. The rational part of my brain says to stay put, to trust that Natalia can handle herself. Besides, Maxim is there to protect her. But my instincts are screaming at me to rush to her side and eliminate any threat.

"Dammit," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. I pace the length of my office, debating. What if I'm overreacting? What if my presence only makes things worse between us?

But then I picture a future where Natalia is hurt. My fists clench at my sides.

No. I can't sit idle while she might be in danger. I grab my jacket, decision made. Consequences be damned. If she’ll be angry at my interference, so be it. Better she be pissed than hurt.

"Cancel my afternoon meetings," I bark at my assistant as I stride past. "I have an urgent matter to attend to."

***

I grip the steering wheel tight, my knuckles turning white as I weave through traffic. The city blurs past. My mind races. What's happening at the store? Is Natalia okay? My heart pounds. I can't lose her.

I call the guard for an update. No response.

Red light. I slam the brakes. Seconds tick by, agonizingly slow. Green. I floor it.

Almost there. Two more blocks. One. I screech to a halt outside the store. Something's off. The air feels wrong. Tense. I scan the area, instincts on high alert.

Where's the guard? He should be visible through the window. I approach cautiously, senses heightened. A foot catches my eye. My stomach drops.

There, partially hidden behind a rack, lies the guard. Motionless. Blood pooling beneath him. Fuck.

I push the door open, the bell's cheerful jingle strange to the ears. I look down to see the guard motionless, his legs right in my way.

I step over his body and look up. Suddenly, the scene before me makes my blood run cold.

There she is. My Natalia. Ropes digging into her soft skin, tossed over that bastard Sidorov’s shoulder just as he turns for the door. Right before me stands the man I've been trying to bring down for years.

"Put. Her. Down." I say, through gritted teeth. Her blonde hair is disheveled, and I can see tear tracks on her cheeks. Those warm brown eyes are now wide with terror.

"Well, well, Zolotov. Took you long enough," Sidorov drawls, his hand squeezing into Natalia’s knees.

Natalia moans and squirms, and Sidorov only clutches her tighter.

A roar builds in my chest, primal and fierce. How dare he touch her? My vision blurs red, and I take a step forward, fists clenched.

"I said. Let. Her. Go." Each word is a barely controlled growl.

Sidorov laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. "Or what, Denis? You'll bore me to death with your moral superiority?"

I force myself to take a deep breath, fighting to keep my composure. One wrong move and Natalia could pay the price. I need to think, to plan. But all I can focus on is the fear in Natalia's eyes, the silent plea for help.

"What do you want, Sidorov?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.

He smirks, running a hand up her thigh. She flinches, and something inside me snaps.

Without thinking, I lunge forward, my protective instincts taking over. "Don't you fucking touch her!" I roar, all pretense of calm evaporating in an instant.

Sidorov immediately throws her down. I hear the thud as her body hits the floor. My heart falls to my stomach. Fuck. Is she hurt?

I quickly glance over as Natalia slides herself against the wall, the bindings making her movements slow. She’s fine, for now.

I look back ahead and my fist connects with Sidorov's jaw, the satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the store. He stumbles back and I use the moment to kick him in his chin.

Just then, the bell chimes and a new figure emerges through the door. Of course, Sidorov wouldn't come alone.

I'm torn, my body instinctively wanting to go for him, but my mind knowing I can't turn my back on Sidorov.

Sidorov recovers, wiping blood from his split lip. "You always were a hothead, Denis. It's why you'll never win."

"I'm not here to win," I spit back, my muscles coiled and ready. "I'm here for her."

Without warning, Sidorov charges. I sidestep, using his momentum to slam him into a nearby shelf. Books and trinkets rain down around us.

I manage to get Sidorov in a chokehold, but the other man’s voice cuts through the chaos. "Let him go, or the girl gets it."

My heart freezes. I release Sidorov, turning to see the man holding a knife to Natalia's throat. Her eyes meet mine, filled with a mixture of fear and… is that trust?

"It's okay," I say softly, trying to convey all my feelings in those two words. "I won't let them hurt you."

As I speak, I notice Sidorov moving in my peripheral vision. Time seems to slow as I make a split-second decision.

I drop low, sweeping Sidorov's legs out from under him. In the same fluid motion, I lunge toward the other man, praying I'm fast enough to reach Natalia before his blade does.

The world blurs into a frenzy of violence. My foot connects with the other man’s jaw, the satisfying crunch of bone reverberating through the room. The knife clatters to the floor as he stumbles back. I don't give him a chance to recover.

"You should've never touched her," I growl, my voice barely recognizable.

I unleash a barrage of punches, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through my hands. But I can't stop. The store becomes a whirlwind of destruction as I throw him against a display, shattering glass and splintering wood. I grab the knife off the floor and slice open his throat, the blood flowing down his neck as he chokes.

Sidorov tries to intervene, but I'm beyond reason now. I grab a nearby lamp, swinging it with all my might. It connects with his temple, and he crumples to the ground.

"Denis, please!" Natalia's voice breaks through the haze, but it's too late.

I'm straddling Sidorov now, my fists a relentless hammer against his increasingly unrecognizable face. Blood splatters, mixing with the broken merchandise on the floor. I don't know how long I keep pummeling, but eventually, my arms grow heavy, and the rage slowly ebbs.

Panting heavily, I stand up, surveying the carnage around me. The once-quaint store looks like a war zone.

My hands shake as I run them through my hair, streaking it with blood—theirs and mine. The quiet after the storm is deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing and Natalia's soft whimpers.

Natalia. My heart clenches as I turn to face her. The sight of her trembling form, still bound, snaps me back to reality. I move toward her, my steps careful, trying not to startle her further.

"Natalia," I say softly, kneeling beside her. "I'm going to untie you now, okay?"

She doesn't respond, just stares at me with those big brown eyes, brimming with tears. My bloodied fingers fumble with the ropes around her feet. I try to keep my voice steady, gentle.

"You're safe now, Sweetheart. I won't let anyone hurt you."

As I work on the knots, my mind races. How can I explain this? How can I make her understand that this violence, this darkness inside me, it's all to protect her?

"I'm sorry you had to see that," I murmur, finally freeing her hands. "I never wanted you to—"

I don't get to finish. The moment her wrists are free, Natalia jerks away from me, nearly toppling the shelf behind in her haste. She scrambles to the side and then back, pressing against the far wall, as far from me as she can get.

"Stay away from me!" she cries, her voice cracking. "Don't touch me!"

The fear in her voice cuts deeper than any knife. I raise my hands, trying to appear non-threatening, but it's useless. How can I not seem threatening when I'm covered in blood, surrounded by destruction of my own making?

"Natalia, please," I plead, taking a step toward her. "I know you're scared, but I swear I would never hurt you. Everything I do, it's to keep you safe."

She shakes her head violently, her dark blonde hair whipping around her face. "Safe? You call this safe?" Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the carnage. "You're a monster, Denis!”

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I want to argue, to explain that the real monsters were the ones who dared to threaten her, but I can see the truth in her eyes. To her, in this moment, I am the nightmare.

My heart pounds so hard, it’s a miracle it doesn’t give way. The chasm between us feels insurmountable. I need to fix this, but how?

I step closer, but she whimpers and her eyes dart around the store. “Call my sister. Call Sofia. I want her to come pick me up right now!” she screams, tears pouring down her face.

Her words hurt worse than any wound I’ve ever had. “Natalia,” I say, softly. “Please. Let’s just go home and try to—”

“Sofia! Call Sofia!” she sobs, hysterical now.

“Nat, please,” my throat aches when I speak, I’m choking on the pain I feel.

“Sofia!” she cries, closing her eyes. I swallow the lump in my throat. For a moment, I'm at a loss.

Natalia looks terrified, and I can put her out of this misery with just one call. Sofia. She always knew how to calm Natalia down. I muster what little control I have left and fumble for my phone.

"Okay, Sweetheart," I say gently, trying to sound calmer than I feel. "I'll call Sofia."

As I dial, Natalia continues to tremble and sob against the far wall.

When the phone rings, I try once more to bridge the gap. "Natalia, I—"

"Just call her!" she screams, cutting me off. Her outburst startles us both, and I see tears welling in her eyes.

My heart is breaking, but right now, Natalia’s well-being matters more and I need to do all I can to help her calm down. If It’s Sofia who she wants, then there’s nothing more to be said.

Sofia answers, her voice sleepy. "Denis? What's wrong?"

"Sofia, I need you to come to Natalia's store. Now." My voice is barely containing my harrowed emotions. "There's been… an incident. Natalia needs you."

"What kind of incident?" Sofia's tone sharpens instantly. "Is she okay?"

I glance at Natalia, huddled against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "She's unharmed but shaken. Please, just come quickly."

As I end the call, I turn back to Natalia. The silence between us is deafening. I want to comfort her, to explain, to make her understand. But I know now isn't the time. Her well-being has to come first, even if it means pushing aside my own desperate need to explain.

"Sofia's on her way," I say softly. "She'll be here soon. I… I'm sorry, Natalia. For everything."

***

I watch as Sofia's car pulls up outside the store, my heart sinking with each passing second. Natalia's eyes dart between me and the door, her body tense like a coiled spring. The moment Sofia rushes in, Natalia practically leaps into her arms, burying her face in her sister's shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm here now," Sofia murmurs, stroking Natalia's hair. She shoots me a look that's equal parts confusion and accusation.

I take a step forward, my hands raised. "Sofia, I can explain—"

"Not now," she cuts me off, her voice sharp. "We're leaving."

As they turn to go, I can't help but call out, "Natalia, please…"

She pauses at the door, her eyes meeting mine. For a moment, I see what she sees. A monster.

The door closes behind them, and I'm left alone in the wreckage of the store. My fists clench at my sides, frustration coursing through me. How did everything go so wrong so quickly?