Page 27

I turn the key in the lock, listening for that satisfying click. A smile spreads across my face as I step back and admire the gleaming storefront of "Natalia's Boutique." My third shop. Who would've thought?

Over a year ago, I was excited to just be away from my brother’s scrutiny. Now look at me—a bona fide businesswoman with three thriving locations. I run my hand along the cool glass, remembering all those late nights and early mornings that got me here.

"You did it, Natalia," I whisper to myself, chocolate brown eyes sparkling in the reflection. "You really did it."

As I turn away, my phone buzzes in my pocket. My heart skips when I see the name on the screen: Denis.

With slightly trembling fingers, I swipe to answer. "Hey you," I say, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.

"Natalia." His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," I reply, though my heart beats extra fast as it always does on days like these. "Where should I meet you?"

"I'm already at the location we discussed two blocks down."

My pulse quickens. "On my way."

I hang up and take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over my hips. It's go time.

I hurry down the sidewalk, my heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement.

As I round the corner, my breath catches. There he is. Denis sits in the sleek black car, his tall, muscled frame exuding power even in stillness. His gray eyes, flecked with green, lock onto mine, and suddenly I feel like I'm moving through molasses.

"Natalia," he says as he opens the door, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. We’ve been married for a year now, and still my heart races in his presence.

I slide into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin. "Hi," I say. "Do we have everything?"

Denis nods, starting the engine. "Camera, mics, and the layout of the building. You remember the plan?"

"In and out, quick and quiet," I recite, my heart racing. "No heroics."

As we pull away from the curb, the city starts to change around us. Glittering storefronts give way to boarded-up windows and graffiti-covered walls. I fidget with the hem of my shirt, nervous energy coursing through me.

"You're sure about this?" Denis asks, his eyes flicking between me and the road.

I meet his gaze, chin lifted. "Absolutely. Those workers need our help."

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "That's my girl.”

The compliment warms me, but as we delve deeper into the shadowy outskirts of the city, a chill settles over me.

Denis, as though reading my mind, reassures me. “We get the information we need, and our men will take care of the rest. They’ll be safe. Don’t you worry."

The car slows to a stop, and my stomach twists as I take in our surroundings. Dilapidated warehouses loom on either side, their windows like hollow eyes watching our every move. The air feels thick and oppressive as if danger itself has a physical presence here.

Denis turns to me, his face a mask of calm determination. "Ready?"

I nod, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice. "Let's do this."

We slip out of the car, moving like shadows across the cracked pavement. My heart pounds, but I focus on Denis's broad back ahead of me, drawing strength from his unwavering presence.

Inside the warehouse, the stench of chemicals and despair hits me like a wall. We navigate silently through dimly lit corridors, communicating with subtle gestures and meaningful glances. Denis points to a door, and I nod, understanding instantly.

I keep watch while he picks the lock, my ears straining for any sound of approach. The click of the lock disengaging feels deafening in the stillness.

We slip inside an office, and I immediately spot what we need—a filing cabinet in the corner. Denis stands guard while I rifle through papers, my fingers trembling slightly as I snap photos of incriminating documents and seized passports. I grab the passports and shove them into a bag.

We’ll need them later, to track all these people so we can get them out.

A sudden noise outside makes us both freeze. Denis's eyes meet mine, a silent question. I give a quick nod—got what we came for. In perfect sync, we move toward the exit, every nerve on high alert.

***

My heart races as we slip out of the warehouse, the cool night air a shock against my flushed skin. Denis's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me swiftly to the car. We dive in, and he peels away, tires squealing against the pavement.

"We did it!" I exclaim, unable to contain my excitement. The adrenaline surges through me, making me feel alive in a way I've never experienced before.

Denis's lips quirk into a rare smile. "You were incredible in there, Natalia."

I beam at the praise, feeling a surge of pride. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

As we speed through the darkened streets, I can't help but marvel at how far I've come. Just months ago, I was focused solely on my boutiques, living a life that now seems quaint in comparison.

"I never imagined I'd be involved in something like this," I muse aloud, watching the city lights blur past. "The Bratva… it was always this shadowy, dangerous thing. But now…"

Denis glances at me, his expression softening. "And now?"

I take a deep breath, sorting through my jumbled thoughts. "Now I see it differently. There's purpose here, a chance to make a real difference." I pause, realizing the truth of my words as I speak them. "I want to be part of that. To help people who can't help themselves."

The car falls silent as Denis absorbs my words. I can see the emotions playing across his face—surprise, respect, and deep love.

"You continue to amaze me, Natalia," he says softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “I never thought you’d be along for the whole ride.”

"We can't stop now," I say with resigned finality. "There are so many more workers out there, trapped and suffering. We need to help them all."

Denis's gray eyes, flecked with green, meet mine. "It won't be easy, or safe," he warns, but I can see a glimmer of pride in his gaze.

"I don't care," I insist, my stubbornness flaring. "I've seen what these people go through. If we can make even a small difference…"

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Your fierce side is showing, Dorogaya ."

“Would you have it any other way?” I ask.

“Never,” he says, pulling my hand up to his and brushing it against his lips.

***

We pull up to a nondescript apartment building, our safe house for the night. As we step inside, the tension from our mission begins to melt away.

"I don't know about you," I announce, kicking off my shoes, "but I'm starving. Think we can risk ordering a pizza without compromising our super-secret spy status?"

Denis chuckles, the sound warming me from the inside out. "I think we can manage. Extra cheese?"

"You know me so well already," I tease, flopping onto the worn couch. "Soon you'll be finishing my sentences."

"Heaven forbid," he mock-groans, but his eyes are twinkling as he joins me. "One Natalia in my head is more than enough."

I stick my tongue out at him, relishing this lighter moment after the intensity of the night. As Denis calls in our order, I find myself studying him—the strong line of his jaw, the way his black hair falls across his forehead. How did I ever find him intimidating?

"What?" he asks, catching me staring when done with the call.

"Just thinking," I reply with a mischievous grin, "for a big, bad Bratva boss, you're kind of a softie."

He walks over to me and grabs my hand, jerking me off the couch, his eyes fixed on mine. "Careful, Sweetheart. I have a reputation to maintain," he growls.

The air between us suddenly shifts, charged with sexual tension. Denis's eyes flicker to my lips and suddenly I'm acutely aware of how close we're standing.

"We do make a good team," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

My heart races. "Yeah, we do," I breathe, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

Before I can overthink it, I lean in, pressing my lips to his. For a heartbeat, he's still. Then his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss.

It's everything I've imagined and more. Passionate yet tender, urgent yet unhurried. I lose myself in the sensation, my curves melting against his solid frame.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I can't help but giggle.

Denis smirks, running a thumb along my lower lip. "Any regrets?"

"Only that we didn't do it sooner," I admit, feeling my cheeks flush.

He groans and reaches for the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. His touch ignites a fire within me, sending shivers down my spine. The taste of him on my lips drives me wild, and I find myself losing control in the best possible way.

*****

THE END