Page 27

27

DMITRI

I stare at the security feed showing Tash's apartment building, my fingers drumming against the mahogany desk. Three days of silence. Three days of watching her through cameras, ensuring her safety while giving her the space she demanded.

At least she kept the security detail. Smart woman.

"Sir, Igor’s men were spotted near the museum again." Akim's voice breaks through my brooding.

"Increase patrols. I want eyes on every entrance." I straighten my tie, unable to stop thinking about the look on her face when I told her everything. The horror. The betrayal. The fear.

My phone buzzes with another report of Igor’s retaliation. Three of our warehouses were torched overnight. The body count keeps rising.

"Your brother's on line two," my assistant calls through the intercom.

I pick up. "What?"

"You look like shit," Nikolai says. He must be watching me through the office cameras. "When's the last time you slept?"

"I'm fine."

"Sure. That's why you've been staring at her building for hours. At least she's smart enough to keep the guards."

I grunt in response, watching Natasha emerge from her building flanked by two of my best men. Even through the grainy footage, she looks exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair pulled back messily.

"The museum board meeting is tomorrow," Nikolai reminds me. "You'll have to face her."

My jaw clenches. "I know."

"Try not to get us all killed because you're distracted by your curator."

I end the call, watching Tash slide into the waiting car. Part of me wants to go to her, to explain everything again, to make her understand. But I know better. She needs time to process who I really am and what I really do.

The car pulls away from the curb, and I switch to the traffic cam feed to follow her progress. Ensuring she arrives safely at the museum is the least I can do, even if she hates me.

I slide into the back of my Mercedes, nodding to Akim behind the wheel. Erik's message weighs on my mind—his first contact since we secured Katarina at the facility. He's been holed up there, refusing to leave her side. Obsessed, though he'd never admit it.

"Take the north route," I tell Akim. "Less traffic."

The city blurs past my window as we head toward the outskirts. An hour. A whole fucking hour away from Tash. My fingers tap against my thigh as I check the security feed on my phone. She's still at the museum, cataloging new acquisitions.

"Sir, your brother Nikolai called. He wants an update on Erik's situation."

"Tell him I'll report back after I see for myself."

The concrete jungle gives way to industrial zones, then sparse suburbs. Each mile puts more distance between Tash and me. My jaw clenches. I should have stationed more men around the museum before leaving. Igor Lebedev is getting bolder by the day.

I dial my head of security. "Double the detail on Ms. Blackwood."

The car turns onto a private road, gravel crunching under the tires. Erik better have a damn good reason for pulling me out here. He's not the only one with priorities to balance.

Trees crowd the narrow path as we approach the secure facility which is a renovated warehouse complex surrounded by state-of-the-art security. Three checkpoints later, we pull up to the main building.

Erik meets me at the door, looking like he hasn't slept in days. His usual military precision is frayed at the edges. "Brother. We need to talk."

I study my brother's haggard appearance. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and his usually pristine tactical gear looks wrinkled like it's been worn for days.

"What's wrong?" The words come out sharper than intended.

Erik runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pacing the narrow corridor. "I'm in too fucking deep, Dmitri." His voice cracks slightly. "I'm falling for her. I don't—I don't know what to do."

The confession hits me like a punch to the gut. Not because it's unexpected—I've seen the signs—but because Erik never admits weakness. Never shows vulnerability. The fact that he's telling me this means he's truly lost control.

I narrow my eyes, a cold feeling settling in my chest. "Have you fucked her?"

Erik stops pacing, his back to me. His shoulders tense, and for a long moment, he says nothing. His expression is carefully blank when he finally turns, reminding me of his Spetsnaz training.

"That's not the issue here," he says quietly.

My fingers twitch at his non-answer. The urge to grab him by the throat and demand a straight response pulses through me, but I force it down. Erik may be compromised, but he's still my brother. Still deadly.

"It's exactly the issue," I say instead, keeping my voice level. "Have you compromised our position?"

He meets my gaze, and I see something I've never seen before—uncertainty.

I study my brother's face, recognizing the emotion there all too well. Fuck. This complicates everything.

"We can't keep her, Erik." The words taste bitter in my mouth. "If we want this war to end, Katarina must be returned."

Erik's hands clench into fists. "I'm not sure I can let her go."

The defeat in his voice mirrors what I feel every time I think about Tash. I remember how she looked at me when she found out who I was and the distance I have to keep now to protect her.

"You think I don't understand?" I move closer to Erik. "Look at me and Natasha. What are the fucking odds we'd both fall this hard, this fast?"

Erik's eyes snap to mine, surprise breaking through his carefully controlled expression. It's the first time I've admitted my feelings about her, even to myself.

"At least Katarina knows what this life is," I continue. "She was born into it. Tash..." I shake my head. "She looks at me now like I'm a monster."

"Katarina hates what her father does," Erik says quietly. "She's different."

"It doesn't matter. We need to end this war before more people die. Before Igor decides to target Natasha to get to me." My voice hardens. "You know what has to be done."

Erik's jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he'll refuse. Then, his shoulders slump slightly. "I know." The words come out rough, pained. "Just... give me time."

I nod, understanding exactly what it costs him to agree. We're both trapped between duty and desire, between what we want and what needs to be done.

I watch my brother's inner struggle, understanding it better than anyone. Erik's always been the controlled one, the soldier who follows orders without question. Seeing him this vulnerable is like watching a fortress crumble.

"Why did you call me?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

Erik's shoulders tense. "Alexi would turn it into a joke. And Nikolai..." He shakes his head. "He'd only see it as a weakness to exploit. You're the only one who might understand."

I lean against the wall, giving him space. Showing vulnerability goes against everything he is. "Because of Natasha?"

"Yeah." He runs a hand through his hair. "How do you handle it? This... feeling?"

"Poorly," I admit, earning a brief smile from him. It's rare, this moment of honesty between us. No pretenses, no masks. Just two brothers drowning in similar waters.

"Does she..." I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "How does Katarina feel about you?"

Erik's jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists. "She responds to me. Wants me. But..." He looks away, tension radiating from every muscle. "Could be Stockholm syndrome. Who the fuck knows? All I know is I care for her. Want her so bad it hurts."

The honesty in his voice hits close to home. I recognize that same desperate need, that same consuming desire that keeps me watching Tash's security feeds, unable to look away.

"We'll figure it out," I tell Erik, watching the tension in his shoulders. “If Katarina feels for you what you think she does..." I pause, thinking of Tash, of the way she looked at me before she knew the truth. Once this is over, she might come back to you. It's her choice. No coercion, no threats."

Erik's head snaps up, hope flickering before he masks it. "You think that's possible?"

"The Lebedev family aren't idiots. They know this war is destroying both families. Once we negotiate peace..." I straighten my tie, a habit when I'm thinking. "Katarina's smart. If she wants you, she'll find a way back."

"And if she doesn't?"

I meet my brother's gaze. "Then you'll let her go. I'll let Tash go if that's what she chooses."

The words taste like ash in my mouth, but they're true. We're both caught in the same trap, wanting women who might never accept what we are or what we do.

"Fuck," Erik mutters, running a hand through his hair. "When did we become such sentimental bastards?"

I snort, appreciating his attempt at humor. "Blame it on the women. They have a way of getting under your skin."

"Under your skin?" Erik raises an eyebrow. "More like ripping your heart out and making you thank them."

The accuracy of his statement hits too close to home. I think of Tash's face when I confessed everything, the way her eyes widened in horror. The way she backed away from me like I was a monster.

"Yeah," I agree quietly. "They do that too."