Page 24

SANDY

I barely close the door behind me when Dimitri calls my name from down the hall. Something in his voice makes my heart skip a beat. It isn’t panic, but it isn’t calm either. It is dark and controlled.

I open the door to find him striding toward me, his jaw clenched and his eyes stormy. The moment he reaches me, he places both hands on my arms, steady but not gentle.

“We need to talk,” he instructs.

I nod, sensing that whatever he is about to say isn’t just important. It’s life-altering.

He leads me into the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind us.

“Petrov talked,” he begins, his voice low. “He gave us everything. The false recordings. The bribes. Russo's involvement. The plan to keep me locked away.”

I cross my arms, unsure if I’m supposed to feel relief or renewed fury. Probably both. “And now?” I probe.

Dimitri looks me straight in the eyes. There is no softening in his expression, only raw truth.

“Now Morozov wants the revenge he came here for,” he seethes. “But he doesn't just want me dead. He wants to hurt you and take our baby.”

The words should buckle my knees. Instead, I stand taller.

“He plans to do something that will make you lose the baby. Then, after that, he wants to kill you.”

Silence fills the room like a rising tide. I let it settle as the storm builds inside me. I expected fear, maybe tears, but what I feel is unbridled rage.

“That sick bastard ,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “He thinks he can take our child? He thinks I'll let him?”

Dimitri steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. “I didn't want to tell you like this, but you have to know.”

“No,” I interrupt, pulling my hand away. “I'm not some delicate flower that needs to be protected from the truth. And there’s no way he’s getting his hands on my baby.”

His expression softens, but I can see the tension lining his face and the muscle twitching in his jaw. “I know you're strong. But this changes things. We need to tighten security here. No one comes in or out unless I personally approve it. You don't go outside without someone with you.”

I step away and walk to the window. The garden is quiet and peaceful, and for a moment, I wish I could climb through the glass and escape into that stillness. But I can’t. Not now.

“I'm not afraid of him,” I insist. “Because he won't win. You won't let him. Aleksandr won't let him. And I sure as hell won't let him.”

He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his hands low on my belly. “I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you,” he vows. “I swear that to you. On everything I am.”

I lean back into him, closing my eyes and letting myself feel the thrum of his heartbeat against my spine.

“He already made one mistake,” I murmur. “He underestimated me.”

Dimitri's lips brush my temple. “He won't live long enough to make another.”

I turn in his arms and look up at him. “Then go finish this.”

“I will,” he promises. “But I needed you to know.”

I touch his face, feeling the stubble beneath my fingertips. “Come back to me.”

“Always,” he nods.

When he leaves the room, I stay by the window. There is a storm coming. But I’m no longer afraid of storms.

After Dimitri left, the mansion felt unusually quiet. I place my hand on my stomach and cradle my baby. Our child . The thought of anyone threatening this tiny life fills me with white-hot fury.

I pace the room, my mind racing through every possibility of Morozov's plan and angle.

The door opens, and I turn quickly, my body tense and ready. Talia's long dark hair is pulled into a casual bun, and her eyes find mine immediately.

“Sis,” she calls out, her voice soft but urgent. “Aleksandr told me what happened. Are you okay?”

I let out a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Emotionally...I'm not sure what I am.”

Talia crosses the room and takes my hands in hers. “Being afraid is normal,” she says, leading me to the plush sofa by the window. “When I first learned what this life truly meant, I spent nights unable to sleep, jumping at every sound.”

“I'm not afraid,” I insist, my voice steadier than expected. “Not for myself, anyway.”

Talia studies my face. “The baby.”

I nod, running my hand over my stomach again protectively. “How do you do it? How do you live with this constant threat hanging over everything you love?”

My sister leans back slightly, considering her answer. The rain outside has intensified, the wind driving it against the glass in rhythmic bursts.

“You adapt,” she answers honestly. “You learn to see danger before it arrives. You build a wall around your heart, but you make sure there's a door for the people who matter. And most importantly—” she squeezes my hand “—you remember that you're not alone in this fight.”

The thought comforts me, but only slightly. “Dimitri wants me locked away here until it's over. Protected like some treasure in a vault.”

“And what do you want?”

What do I want? Safety, obviously. For myself, for our child, for Dimitri. But something else is growing inside me alongside the baby that burns brighter than fear.

“I want to rip out Morozov’s heart,” I reply. “And I want to know what I’m facing. No sugar-coating, no protective half-truths.”

Talia nods slowly. “Then come with me. Aleksandr is in his office going through the information from Petrov. You should hear it directly.”

I stand without hesitation. “Lead the way.”

We move down the grand corridor of the mansion, our footsteps muted by the thick, handwoven carpet stretching beneath our feet like a velvet river. Even after all these months, the sheer opulence of the place sometimes makes me pause.

Talia stops outside the heavy oak door and knocks twice, echoing like a summons. Aleksandr’s voice comes from within, cool and commanding.

“Enter.”

As we step inside, he looks up from behind his desk, his icy gaze settling on me.

“Sandy,” he greets, nodding once as we take the seats across from him.

“I want to know everything,” I demand before he can continue. “About Morozov and his threats.”

Aleksandr exchanges a look with Talia. She nods subtly.

“Dimitri did not want to worry you with details,” he begins.

“I'm already worried,” I counter. “Knowing less doesn't make me safer. It makes me vulnerable.”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You remind me of Talia when she first insisted on being included in family matters. Very well.”

He pulls a folder from the pile and opens it, revealing photographs and typed pages of information.

“Morozov has hired a doctor who is willing to administer something that would cause a miscarriage. It would look like a natural complication, nothing suspicious.”

The clinical way he describes it makes my skin crawl. This isn’t just a business rivalry or territorial dispute. This is deeply personal, targeted at the most vulnerable part of me.

“Where is this doctor now?” I ask, surprised by how calm my voice is despite the fury building in my core.

“Being tracked,” Aleksandr replies. “Dimitri and four of our most trusted men are closing in on him as we speak. Once they have him, he will lead us to Morozov.”

“And then?”

Aleksandr's expression hardens. “Then Morozov will learn why the Avilov family has survived for generations while others have fallen.”

Thunder rumbles outside as if nature is responding to the tension in the room. I think of Dimitri, hunting down the people who threatened our future. I always knew who he was and what his family was like, but until this moment, I never fully grasped what that meant for me.

“I want to be prepared,” I say firmly. “If someone comes for me, I need to be able to defend myself.”

Talia places her hand on my arm. “Are you sure? Once you cross certain lines...”

“My line was crossed the moment he threatened my child,” I interrupt. “I'm not asking to become some kind of assassin. But I refuse to be helpless.”

Aleksandr closes the folder and leans back in his chair, studying me. “Dimitri will not like this.”

“Dimitri isn't here,” I counter. “And when he returns, he can take it up with me directly.”

For a few seconds, the only sound is the rain against the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Then Aleksandr nods.

“Talia will show you the basics today. The rest can wait until after we deal with Morozov. But understand once you begin this journey, there is no turning back. This knowledge changes you.”

“I'm already changed,” I say quietly. “From the moment I fell in love with your brother, and I learned I was carrying his child. There's no going back to who I was before.”

Aleksandr rises from his chair, the edge softening in his voice. “We’re family by blood, by love, by everything that brought us here. And that means you’re never alone.”

As Talia leads me from the office, a strange sense of calm settles over me. Not the calm of peace but the calm of absolute certainty. Whatever comes next, I will face it not just as Sandy, the woman who stumbled into this world, but as a mother and a protector.

Talia takes me to a room down the hallway, through a door that requires a keycode, and into what appears to be a small gym with padded floors and mirrored walls. She closes the door behind us and kicks off her shoes.

“First lesson,” she says, her voice shifting from sisterly concern to more authoritative. “Your greatest weapon isn't a gun or a knife. It's your mind. Your awareness.”

I slip off my own shoes and join her on the mat. “I thought you were going to teach me how to shoot.”

“Eventually. But what good is a gun if you don't see the threat coming? If you freeze when the moment arrives?” She begins to circle me slowly. “Tell me what you notice about this room.”

I glance around, seeing the obvious. The mirrors, the mats, and the exercise equipment that is pushed against one wall. “It's a private gym?”

“Look again,” Talia instructs. “Really look.”