Page 32

SANDY

Time doesn’t just slow. It shatters.

One second, I’m on my knees, Morozov's hand tangled in my hair, his gun pressing into the soft skin of my temple. And next, I’m drowning in Dimitri's eyes.

He stands across the room, framed by darkness and smoke, but I see him.

It isn’t the gun in his hands or the tactical calm of a Bratva soldier that strikes me. It is the fear. Beneath all that steel and rage, his eyes burn with it. Not fear for himself. Fear for me. For the baby I carry. For the family we didn’t even get the chance to become yet.

But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move like a man afraid. He moves like a man with nothing left to lose.

The concrete floor bites into my knees as I kneel there, prisoner to a madman. My body aches from being battered, my wrists raw from the restraints. But none of that matters now. All that matters is Dimitri, who stands there like a vision of vengeance and love.

“You came,” I whisper, my voice cracking. Morozov yanks my head back sharply, causing me to gasp in pain.

“Shut up, little bird,” he hisses into my ear, his breath hot and putrid against my skin. “Your prince has arrived, but he won't be taking you anywhere.”

Morozov’s face twists into a cocktail of murderous rage and gleeful anticipation. “How thoughtful of you to show up, Dimitri. Now I get to kill you both.”

Dimitri's expression remains impassive, but I can read the rage brewing beneath. His eyes never leave mine, communicating volumes in silence. I learned to understand his wordless language over the months we spent together. He is telling me to trust him and stay strong for just a little longer.

“Release her, Morozov,” Dimitri demands, a controlled thunder reverberating through the room. “This is between you and me. It always has been.”

Morozov laughs, the sound grating against my nerves like nails on a board. “But she makes such lovely leverage, doesn't she? The mighty Dimitri Popov, brought to heel by a woman.” His free hand slides down to rest on my stomach, making my blood boil. “And the little one she carries.”

I can feel Dimitri's explosive tension from across the room, a living, breathing thing that fills the space between us. His grip on his gun tightens infinitesimally, but his aim remains steady.

“You know what your problem is, Popov?” Morozov continues, clearly enjoying his moment of power. “You've gone soft. The old Dimitri would never have allowed himself such obvious weaknesses.”

My heart pounds so loudly that I’m certain Dimitri can hear it. The baby flutters within me as if sensing the danger we are in. I silently pray, begging whatever powers might be listening to protect this innocent life.

Behind Dimitri, I can make out other figures. Blurry silhouettes waiting in the periphery. Aleksandr, along with Ivan, Viktor, and Lev. They are here, too, ready to tear this place apart to get me out.

Dimitri and Morozov say something. Words that linger like smoke and broken glass. But I can’t hear them. Not really. It’s like I’m trapped underwater, the sounds distorted and meaningless. My breath catches somewhere between my lungs and my prayers.

Please, let Dimitri save me. Please, let my baby live.

I try to focus, to fight through the fog of terror surrounding me. I can’t afford to be passive in my own rescue. Dimitri taught me to look for opportunities and to never accept defeat. But with a gun pressed to my head and my baby's life at stake, options seem nonexistent.

“I'm going to give you a choice, Popov,” Morozov announces, his voice dripping with malice. “Drop your weapon and I'll kill you quickly. Keep it, and I'll make you watch as I put a bullet through your woman's pretty head before I finish you.”

Dimitri's jaw clenches, the only indication of the wrath raging inside him. His eyes lock with mine again, and something passes between us. A plan. A promise.

I inhale slowly, trying to steady my racing heart. The tension in the room stretches taut, ready to snap. Morozov's grip loosens slightly as he grows more confident in his victory.

“Five seconds,” he calls. “Four...”

I watch Dimitri's eyes.

“Three...”

His gaze flicks downward for a millisecond.

“Two...”

Morozov jerks me tighter, laughing like the unhinged monster he is. His thumb strokes my jaw in a mockery of tenderness as he taunts Dimitri. I feel the press of the barrel shift slightly against my temple.

And then Dimitri pulls the trigger. One clean shot. One flash of fire and thunder.

Morozov's grip goes slack. The gun clatters beside me as Morozov’s body drops like a dead stone, slamming into the floor behind me.

For a heartbeat, I don’t move. I can’t. My limbs won’t obey. The ringing in my ears drowns out everything else. The smell of gunpowder fills the air, acrid and biting.

Then I feel warm and familiar hands on me. Dimitri.

“Sandy,” he breathes, falling to his knees before me. His hands cup my face, brushing hair and blood away from my skin.

I can’t speak. My throat is raw with silent screams, my lips trembling.

He pulls me into his chest, wrapping himself around me like armor. “I've got you now. You're safe. Both of you.”

My arms cling to him with what strength I have left. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of sweat, gunpowder, and him. My protector. My damn fool of a man who charged into hell and won.

Dimitri murmurs into my hair, his hands skimming over me in a frantic search for injuries. I flinch when he reaches my side, pain flashing across my face. “The baby? Is the baby okay?”

I nod, still unable to form words. My body shakes uncontrollably, and the adrenaline crashes, hitting me hard.

“We need to move.” Aleksandr's voice cuts through the haze of my shock.

Dimitri nods, but his attention remains fixed on me. “Can you stand?”

I swallow hard, forcing my voice to work. “Yes.”

He helps me to my feet with gentle hands, keeping me tucked against his side as if afraid I might dissolve into mist if he lets go. My legs feel like rubber, threatening to give out with each step, but Dimitri's strength holds me upright.

“Stay close,” he instructs as we move toward the exit, his gun now held ready in his free hand.

The warehouse is a maze of corridors and rooms, each doorway a potential threat. Aleksandr takes point, with Viktor and Ivan flanking us. Lev brings up the rear, his vigilant eyes scanning constantly for danger.

“We cleared most of the building on our way in,” Dimitri explains softly as we move. “But there may be stragglers.”

A door bursts open ahead of us as if summoned by his words. A man with a scarred face emerges, weapon raised. Before he can fire, Aleksandr puts him down with two rapid shots.

I flinch but keep moving. This is Dimitri's world, and it has become my world since the moment I fell in love with him. Its brutality no longer shocks me as it once had.

We encounter two more of Morozov's men before reaching the exit. Both times, Dimitri's team eliminates the threat with ruthless efficiency. I try not to look at the bodies as we pass.

Finally, we emerge into the night air. I gulp it down greedily, realizing how stale and foul the air inside was. The sky above is clear, stars sprinkled across the velvet darkness like diamonds. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

Four black SUVs wait in the gravel lot, engines running. Dimitri guides me toward the second vehicle, his vigilance never faltering even as we approach safety.

“Perimeter secure,” Ivan reports, joining us at the car. “No signs of reinforcements.”

Dimitri nods once. “Good work.” To me, he says, “Let's get you home.”

Home. The word brings tears to my eyes. After almost two days in captivity, uncertain if I would ever see daylight again, the promise of returning to the mansion—to safety, to our life together—overwhelms me.

Dimitri helps me into the back of the SUV, climbing in beside me. His composure cracks the moment the door closes, sealing us in the quiet interior. Again he pulls me into his arms, burying his face in my hair.

“When they took you...” he mutters, his voice rough with emotion.

I press my palm against his cheek, feeling the stubble that has grown during my absence. “But you found me.”

His eyes, usually so guarded, are naked with vulnerability. “I would have torn the world apart to find you, malyshka .”

We don’t speak as the others approach the SUVs. Aleksandr issues orders, and Ivan and Viktor obey. But it is all background noise. None of it matters.

Only him. Only us.

The convoy pulls away from the warehouse, headlights cutting through the darkness. I nestle closer to Dimitri, craving his warmth and solidity after days of cold isolation. His arm tightens around me protectively.

“How did you find me?” I ask after several minutes of silence.

Dimitri's eyebrows snap together. “Elena… and a lot of digging for information.”

I don’t ask for details. Some things are better left unknown.

Dimitri places his hand over mine. “We'll have you examined as soon as we get home. Talia already called the doctor.”

The mention of my sister brings fresh tears to my eyes. “She must have been worried sick.”

“She never lost faith,” Dimitri says. “She knew we would find you.” A small smile touches his lips. “She's as stubborn as you are.”

As we near the estate, familiar landmarks come into view. The old church perched on the corner, the long stretch of forest flanking the private road to the mansion. Each one is a reminder of a home I feared I’d never see again.

When the estate gates open and the mansion rises before us, I see Talia waiting on the steps. She runs before the car even comes to a stop. As soon as the door opens, she is there, arms around me, tears streaking her cheeks, her voice shaking as she whispers my name repeatedly.

I let her hold me.

But my eyes never leave Dimitri. Because he is the reason I’m still breathing. The reason our baby will be born. The reason the nightmare ended.

And I know at this moment that I’m his no matter what else comes. And he is mine.