Page 24

My lungs burn as I sprint through the smoke-filled corridors, my voice hoarse from shouting orders. "Move, now! To the exits!" I yell, gesturing frantically at the panicked workers stumbling through the haze. So many people, so many lives at stake. I need to get everyone out.

"Boss, the south wing is clear!" a voice calls out.

"Good! Help with the east side!" I bark back, my mind racing to account for every employee in this godforsaken building. The smoke started so damn fast.

My eyes sting and I pause for a split second, taking in the chaos around me. The flames lick hungrily at the walls, nearly blinding my sight. An ominous creak echoes above, and I instinctively look up. Shit. The structure won't hold much longer.

"Move your asses!" I roar, my voice carrying over the crackling fire. "This place is coming down!"

I usher the last group toward safety, but a nagging thought tugs at me. What if someone's still trapped? The idea of leaving anyone behind claws at my chest, more painful than the smoke filling my lungs.

I spin around, ready to plunge back into the inferno. A worker grabs my arm. "Sir, it's too dangerous!"

I shake him off and scream. "Get out. I'll be right behind you."

When I step back into the smoke, I can't help but think of Natalia. What would she say if she could see me now? Probably call me a reckless idiot. A sadness tugs at my heart—what if I never see her again?

Well, perhaps then, she’ll see that I died for a good reason. I died to save a life.

With that, I go back into the fire.

The heat gets stronger, and a strong thirst for water forms in my throat.

Suddenly, a faint cry pierces through the roar of the flames. My head snaps toward the sound, my heart rate spiking. Someone's still in here.

"Hey!" I shout, my voice hoarse from the smoke. "Where are you?"

The cry comes again, louder this time. I push forward, ignoring the searing heat against my skin. The smoke thickens, and I pull my shirt over my nose, squinting through the haze.

"Keep yelling!" I command, my eyes darting around frantically. "I'm coming for you!"

A beam crashes down nearby, showering me with sparks. I flinch but don't stop. I clamber over fallen debris, my muscles burning from pain, but I grit my teeth and push on.

"Please," a weak voice calls out. "I'm here!"

I spot a figure huddled in the corner, trapped behind a fallen shelf. Relief floods through me, but there’s no time to rest.

"I've got you," I say, my voice softer now. "Just hold on."

As I navigate the treacherous path toward the worker, I think of Natalia again. Her face flashes in my mind, a beacon of hope in this hellish landscape. I imagine her voice, urging me on. 'You've got this, Denis. You're stronger than you know.'

I reach the trapped worker, a young man barely out of his teens. His eyes are wide with fear, and I force a reassuring smile. "Let's get you out of here, kid."

I assess the situation quickly, my heart pounding in my chest. The fallen shelf is heavy, but I can't afford to hesitate. "I'm going to lift this," I tell the young worker, locking eyes with him. "When I do, I need you to crawl out fast. Can you do that?"

He nods, his face pale but determined. "Y-yes, Sir."

I take a deep breath, ignoring the smoke burning my lungs. With a grunt, I grip the edge of the shelf and heave. The metal groans, and for a moment, I fear it won't budge. Then, with a sudden shift, it lifts.

"Now!" I yell, my muscles straining. "Go!"

The kid scrambles out, and I let the shelf crash back down. Relief floods through me, but there's no time to celebrate. The fire is spreading rapidly, licking at the walls around us.

"We need to move," I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Stay close to me."

We turn to leave, but a searing pain shoots through my back. I stumble, biting back a curse. The kid looks at me, worried. "Are you okay?"

I force a smile, straightening up despite the agony. "I'm fine. Go on ahead," I urge the worker, my voice strained as I gesture toward the exit. "Run as fast as you can. Don't look back."

The kid hesitates, his eyes wide with concern. "But sir, you're hurt—"

"That's an order," I growl, softer than I intend. This pain god damn it, it’s threatening to bring me to my knees. I can’t tell the kid or he’ll try to help. I’ll only slow him down. I could risk both our lives. “I’ll be right behind you. Now, run!"

As he sprints away, I allow myself a moment of vulnerability. My back feels like it's on fire, matching the inferno around me. I grit my teeth, forcing one foot in front of the other.

"Come on, Zolotov," I mutter to myself. "You've been through worse."

But have I? The heat is oppressive, the smoke thick. Each step is a battle against my own body's desire to collapse. What would Natalia feel if I didn't make it out?

Just as I reach the exit, a deafening boom rocks the building. The storage area. My heart leaps into my throat as I realize what's happening.

" Blyad' !" I curse, adrenaline surging through me.

The explosion propels me forward, debris raining down around me. The world becomes a chaotic blur of heat, noise, and flying rubble. I stumble, nearly losing my footing as the ground shakes beneath me.

"Keep moving," I command myself, my survival instinct overriding the pain. "For Natalia. For your family. It can’t end like this.”

At last, I burst through the exit and am greeted by a scene of utter chaos. But I'm out. I'm alive.

The relief of escape is short-lived. My knees buckle, no longer able to support my weight. I collapse onto the hard ground, gravel biting into my palms as I struggle to stay upright. The world around me blurs, faces and flames melding into a dizzying kaleidoscope.

Some men rush toward me.

"Status report," I rasp, trying to focus on the figures rushing around me. My vision swims, but I force myself to scan the area, searching for familiar faces. "Is everyone accounted for?"

My own voice sounds distant, drowned out by the cacophony of sirens and shouts. I blink hard, fighting against the darkness creeping at the edges of my consciousness.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the haze like a beacon.

"Denis! Oh my god, Denis!"

I’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Natalia. My heart leaps. She's here. She came. After everything…

"Natalia," I manage, her name a prayer on my lips. I try to turn toward her voice, but my body refuses to cooperate. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

Even as I say it, relief floods through me. She's okay. And if she's here, helping… does that mean she's forgiven me?

"Don't you dare tell me where I should or shouldn't be, Denis Zolotov," she retorts, her tone a mix of worry and that fierce stubbornness I've come to adore. "Now stay still and let me look at you."

A small, pained chuckle escapes me. "As you wish, Nat."

I feel her hands, gentle yet firm, as she assesses my injuries. Her touch grounds me, anchoring me to the present despite all the pain.

"You're hurt badly," she murmurs, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"No," I growl, mustering what strength I have left to grasp her wrist. "Not until everyone's safe. The workers… did they all make it out?"

Natalia's eyes, wide with concern, come into focus for a moment. "Yes, Denis. Everyone's accounted for. You did it."

At last, I can rest, but it's quickly replaced by a renewed sense of urgency. "You need to go, Natasha. It's not safe here. There could be secondary explosions, or—”

She cuts me off, her tone brooking no argument. "I'm not going anywhere without you, you stubborn man. And don’t worry, our family is here to make sure nothing happens.”

I want to argue, to make her understand the danger, but my vision is starting to fade again. The world tilts dangerously, and I feel myself slipping.

"Denis? Denis, stay with me!" Natalia's voice sounds far away now, but I cling to it like a lifeline.

"It's okay," I manage to whisper, surprising myself with the peace I feel. "You've got this, Natasha. I trust you."

The world fades to black, but Natalia's voice echoes in my mind, a beacon of hope in the darkness. "Hold on, Denis. Just hold on."

I'm falling, drifting, but there's no fear. Only a strange sense of calm, punctuated by flashes of Natalia's face—her mischievous grin, her determined frown, those eyes I've come to adore.

"…multiple lacerations, possible smoke inhalation…" Unfamiliar voices fade in and out.

My body feels weightless, disconnected. Yet somehow, I know Natalia's there. Her small, strong hand clasps mine, an anchor in the void.

"You don't get to leave me, Zolotov," she murmurs against my forehead, and I feel something wet fall on my cheeks. Her tears. "We have unfinished business, you and I."

Even in this haze, I want to smile. My stubborn, beautiful Natasha.

"Did you hear that?" she says, louder now. "That's an order from your wife. Come back to me."

Wife. The word resonates, filling me with warmth. What started as an arrangement, a forced union, has become… everything.

My last thought before surrendering to the darkness: A prayer that I'll wake up to see her fierce, beautiful face again. That this isn’t just a dream.