Page 21

21

DMITRI

I slam the car door harder than necessary, stalking into our downtown office building. The security guard flinches as I pass.

Fucking Lebedevs. One peaceful Saturday morning. That’s all I wanted.

The elevator opens to our executive floor where Nikolai paces by the floor-to-ceiling windows, phone pressed to his ear. His expression darkens when he sees me.

“Three of our warehouses hit simultaneously,” he says, ending his call. “Igor’s sending a message.”

I loosen my tie, the rage building. “Casualties?”

“Four injured, one critical. The sprinkler systems were sabotaged first. Millions in water damage.”

“Sloppy.” I check my watch. It’s barely ten a.m. “You said we’re taking Katarina today?”

Nikolai nods grimly. “She’s at her downtown penthouse. Light security on weekends. Igor’s been too focused on hitting us to properly protect his own.”

“Their mistake.” I pull up the building schematics on my tablet, already strategizing entry points. “How many men?”

“Two teams of four. You’ll lead the Alpha team through the service entrance. Surveillance shows her routine as she usually works from home on Saturdays.”

The familiar cold focus settles over me, pushing thoughts of Natasha aside. “Time frame?”

“We move in one hour. Erik’s already got the safe house prepped.”

I study the building layout, marking access points and escape routes. “Clean grab. No casualties unless absolutely necessary. She’s worth more as leverage.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrow. “You seem especially irritated today, brother.”

“I had plans.” I keep my voice neutral, but he knows me too well.

“Natasha?” His lips quirk. “She’ll understand. This is who we are.”

I ignore him, focusing on the tactical details. But a small voice whispers that Natasha won’t understand. Not this time. Not again.

One minute I’m telling her she’s mine; the next, I’m practically chucking her out the door with a wrapped-up omelet after a mind-blowing night of sex.

I stare at the building schematics, but my mind keeps drifting to the hurt in Tash’s eyes this morning. She’d gathered her clothes, spine straight and proud even as I’d brushed her off.

She deserves better than half-truths and sudden departures.

My fingers clench around my phone. I could call her, try to explain... but what would I say? Sorry, had to cancel our plans to kidnap my enemy’s daughter?

“Focus, Dmitri.” Nikolai’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m fine.” But I’m not. For the first time in my life, I resent the obligations that come with our name. The violence and vendettas force me to push away the one person I’ve felt a connection with in my entire life.

Tash has too much self-respect to continue accepting my hot and cold act. She’s brilliant, passionate, and independent—everything I admire but can’t fully have while juggling this double life.

The worst part is knowing she’d understand if I could tell her the truth. Her quick mind could help her strategize. But every scrap of information I share puts her at risk. Igor’s men would love to get their hands on someone close to me.

“The teams are ready,” Nikolai says, studying me. “Are you?”

I straighten my tie, locking away thoughts of Tash behind the cold mask I wear for business. “Let’s go get the Lebedev heiress.”

But even as I check my weapon and head for the elevator, I know I’m losing Tash, one unexplained brush-off at a time.

I slide into the back of the black SUV, Ivan taking the wheel while Viktor rides shotgun. The rest of the Alpha team fills the second vehicle behind us. Through the tinted windows, I spot Nikolai’s convoy pulling out ahead—his team will cover the north entrance while we take the service area.

“Comms check,” Viktor’s gruff voice breaks the silence. A chorus of affirmatives crackles through our earpieces.

The morning traffic parts for our vehicles like water. Ivan’s driving is precise and measured—the calm before we strike. My phone buzzes: a message from Erik confirming the safe house preparations. He’s always thorough.

“Two minutes,” Ivan announces as we approach Katarina’s building.

I check my weapon one last time. “Remember—clean extraction. No casualties unless absolutely necessary.”

The SUVs split up, taking predetermined positions. My team files out silently, falling into formation. I hear Nikolai confirming his team’s position at the north entrance through my earpiece.

“Security camera loop in place,” Alexi’s voice comes through. “You’re clear.”

We move through the service entrance like shadows, neutralizing two guards with quick sleeper holds. The elevator requires a key card, which we swipe from one of the guards.

“Target confirmed on floor thirty-two,” Nikolai updates. “Moving in.”

The elevator opens to plush carpeting. We spread out, covering all angles. A maid pushing a cleaning cart freezes at the sight of us. Viktor guides her into a supply closet, securing the door.

“North entrance secured,” Nikolai reports.

I signal my team forward. The hallway opens to Katarina’s private foyer. The door gives way under Viktor’s precise kick.

She’s at her desk, phone dropping as we enter. To her credit, she doesn’t scream—just rises slowly, eyes darting between us.

“Ms. Lebedev,” I say smoothly. “You’ll be coming with us.”

Ivan secures her hands while Viktor sweeps the apartment. Within minutes, we’re descending in the service elevator, target acquired.

The van doors slide open. We’re gone before anyone realizes what happened.

The van moves smoothly through traffic, our prize secured between Viktor and Ivan. Katarina sits with remarkable poise for someone who’s just been kidnapped. Her chin tilts up, defiant even in restraints.

“Father will kill you all for this,” she says in perfect Russian.

Nikolai’s lips twitch. “Your father’s too busy burning our warehouses to notice you’re gone yet.”

I study her calculated responses and how she catalogs our faces. She’s been trained well—gathering intel even as a captive.

The safe house appears ahead—a nondescript brownstone that Erik prepared. As we file inside, Alexi is at the computers, fingers flying across keyboards.

“Perimeter secure,” he mutters without looking up. “No tails.”

Erik emerges from the back room, and there’s a pause in his stride when he sees Katarina. His expression doesn’t change, but I know my brother. The way his eyes track her movement, how his hands flex slightly at his sides—she’s exactly his type.

“Secure her,” I order, watching as Erik guides her to a chair with more gentleness than strictly necessary. His fingers brush her shoulders as he binds her wrists, and she stiffens at his touch.

“Careful with the merchandise,” Nikolai drawls, catching the same subtle signs I did. “We need her intact for leverage.”

Erik steps back, but his eyes linger on the curve of her neck, the way her blonde hair falls over one shoulder. I hide my amusement. My warrior of a brother is finally showing interest in something besides weapons and tactical plans.

“I’m not merchandise,” Katarina snaps, testing her bonds. “And if you think?—”

“Save your breath,” I interrupt. “You’ll be our guest until your father learns to play nice.”

But Erik has positioned himself where he can watch her, his usual stoic mask slipping just enough that even Alexi notices, shooting me a knowing look over his screens.

I lean against the wall, watching Erik’s failed attempts at subtlety. His eyes haven’t left Katarina since we brought her in, tracking her every small movement like a predator zeroing in on prey.

“Need anything else with the prisoner, Erik?” Alexi’s smirk grows wider. “Maybe you’d like to personally handle her interrogation?”

Erik’s jaw tightens. “Someone needs to keep watch.”

“I’m sure you’ll keep a very close watch,” Nikolai chimes in as we file out of the room. “Especially on certain... assets.”

In the hallway, Alexi clutches his chest dramatically. “Our stone-cold brother, finally showing some warmth. Did you see how gentle he was with those restraints?”

“Like he was handling fine China,” I agree, grateful the spotlight has shifted from my own romantic entanglements for once.

“Ten bucks says he volunteers for every guard shift,” Viktor rumbles, lighting a cigarette.

“Twenty says he finds excuses to adjust her restraints at least three times tonight,” Alexi counters.

Nikolai shakes his head. “You’re all terrible. But put me down for fifty on him bringing her dinner personally.”

Through the door, we can see Erik’s usual military stance giving way to something slightly too attentive.

“Should we remind him she’s leverage, not a potential date?” Alexi grins.

“Let him live a little,” I say. “God knows he needs it.”

“Says the man who can’t go two hours without checking his phone for messages from a certain curator,” Nikolai mutters.

I glare at him, but thankfully, Alexi’s too busy making kissing noises at Erik through the window to notice. For once, I’m not the brother being teased, and I plan to enjoy it while it lasts.