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YULIAN

There’s no time to think. No time to do anything but act.

So I act.

My hands are around Mia before the second gunshot. I drag her behind the stage and cover her body with mine, drawing my gun as I hold her close.

“Stay down,” I snarl.

“What’s happening?” Mia’s voice is laced with panic. “Yulian, talk to me.”

But I can’t. Whatever words are in my heart, they don’t make it past my lips. They just pound on the walls of my skull.

It’s happening again.

I did this.

I put her in danger.

“Nikita!” I bark into my phone. Security tonight was supposed to be perfect—whatever’s going on out there, heads will roll for this. “Nikita, answer me.”

But there’s no answer.

Only silence.

Mia buries her head into my neck, a flimsy protection against the hail of gunfire. I can feel her shaking, terrified, even worse than on the night of Brad’s wedding.

Back then, she had no time to process what was even going on.

Now, she knows perfectly well what this is.

The past overlaps with the present. That hot, blazing guilt I cradled in my chest twenty years ago comes back as roaring fire, ready to burn me alive. I remember my parents’ bodies, my sister’s bloodstained dress, and Kira ?—

“Oh my God,” Mia gasps suddenly. “Kallie’s out there. I have to get to her! I have to?—”

“No!” I roar. “You will not move from here.”

She stares at me with wide, teary eyes. Like I’ve betrayed her. “She is my friend.”

“She’s not you.”

Mia’s gaze hardens. She struggles against my grip, her eyes darting between me and the crowd. There are bodies on the ground—I recognize one of the recruits from earlier, the blood mark on his forehead as bright as day. The pakhan in me aches for my soldiers, my brothers, but the man?—

The man only needs Mia to be safe.

It’s precisely the kind of conflict I could never afford. The one I’ve been running from my whole life—the day I’d be asked to choose .

Duty or love. Love or duty.

What a cruel trap to get caught in.

Mia starts pounding my chest with her free hand. “Let me go! ”

I strengthen my grip. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

“YOU’RE MY WIFE!”

Mia flinches at my shout, then steels herself. “I’m not your wife yet,” she whispers.

Then she slaps me.

It’s a cold, hard strike across my cheek. It couldn’t hurt if she tried. I’m trained for pain—it’s my oldest companion.

And yet, at that moment, something else fills me.

Shame.

I let go. I don’t mean to, but I do.

“Mia—”

Then I hear it.

Her scream.

Mia’s face falls. Her eyes fill with cold, naked horror as she watches her best friend fall to the ground.

And then she starts running.

In the rain of bullets. With no protection, no vest, no weapon.

Straight towards her friend.

My heart stops. Time slows to a crawl. I can see every moment amplified, every bead of sweat frozen as if caught in amber.

Then I see the bullet pierce Mia’s arm.

She staggers. Blood spurts from the wound, bright and red and terrifying.

My veins fill with ice.

This is it, I think. This is how I lose her.

And then, No fucking way.

I follow the trajectory of the bullet. It’s instinct more than anything else, a split-second decision.

Then I fire into the trees.

The noise stops. Something falls from a branch—a man. Dressed in camouflage, disguised, perfectly blended with his surroundings.

Dead.

The rain of bullets ends, as abruptly as a summer storm. Mia stumbles forward, clutching her left shoulder, but doesn’t stop moving. Instead, she starts crawling on the grass, dragging herself towards her friend.

“Kallie!” She’s panting hard, her free hand darting towards Kallie’s wrist, searching for a pulse. “Can you hear me? Stay with me, Kal. Please.”

Blood is oozing from her side, dark in the moonlight. Her sari is torn at the height of her stomach—a round, perfect hole quickly covered by Mia’s hand.

Next to them, Maksim is on his knees. I’ve seen a lot of expressions on his face over the years—joy, anger, mockery.

But I’ve never seen him look so empty.

Slowly, I drag myself over to them. Force my feet to move, even when they feel like twin blocks of cement. Even with the memories weighing me down every single step.

This is your fault, the voices of my dead family hiss in my ears like vengeful spirits. You did this. You killed her friend.

Like they killed yours.

I don’t realize I’ve spoken until Mia says, “What?”

“It’s my fault.”

There’s a phone in her bloodstained hand. She must’ve called 911. I have no memory of her picking it up, or taking off her coat to press against Kallie’s wound. No memory of Maksim clutching Kallie’s hand and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

All I can think of is the blood still gushing from Mia’s shoulder.

“You’re hurt,” I rasp.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“Kallie takes precedence,” she snaps.

“Let me look at it.”

“Later.”

“No. You need?—”

“I don’t care what I need!” she cries out.

“I do,” I croak. “I?—”

She ignores me, applying more pressure on Kallie’s wound instead. Her phone drops to the grass as she uses her other hand to slap lightly at her friend’s cheeks. “Stay awake, Kal. I need you to stay with me now. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Listen to her, love,” Maksim murmurs. “It’s too soon to leave the party. They haven’t even brought out the cake.”

Kallie’s eyes are glazed over, her lips pale. She’s shivering from head to toe, gurgling out words that aren’t words, her pupils wide and unfocused.

“I did this,” I whisper, barely realizing it. “I should’ve taken more precautions. I shouldn’t have taken you here. After Brad’s wedding, I knew this might happen, and I still?—”

Mia’s head snaps towards me. “What did you just say?”

Shit.

Clarity returns to me. “Mia?—”

“You knew? ” Disbelief flashes across her face, then realization. “Brad’s wedding,” she whispers. “That was you?”

I’ve felt the world crumble around me once. I had no idea it could happen a second time. That it could feel like this.

Like I still had something left to lose.

“Let me explain?—”

“You—” I can see her mind working, connecting dots I’ve prayed she never would. “Your enemies. The ones who killed your family. You never told me what happened to them.”

“Mia, please.”

“They’re still around, aren’t they?” Her eyes go wide with horror. “They’re trying to finish what they started. And this whole time—” Her voice catches, every piece finally falling together in her head. “Were you using me?”

I keep silent.

“Say I’m wrong,” Mia begs. “Say it’s a lie. Say you didn’t know.”

I don’t say a word.

“Oh my God.” She covers her mouth, tears gathering in her eyes. “I was bait. For your enemies—for your revenge.”

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?!” she cries out. “That’s why you put me under contract, why you had me go out with you?—”

“Mia—”

“—why you wanted the whole world to think I was your girlfriend, why you asked me to marry you?—”

“That’s not true,” I snarl. “I asked you to keep you safe. It was the only way I could think of to protect you. To have you and Eli live with me.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Mia falls silent. There’s heartbreak in her eyes, and it kills me to look at it. To face the consequences of everything I’ve done.

“You said you loved me,” she accuses.

“I—”

“You didn’t mean it.” Her free hand curls on her thigh, nails digging deep. “You just wanted to clean your conscience. All that talk about adopting my son—that was just to get me to say yes, wasn’t it?”

“That’s not?—”

“He thought you were gonna be his father. That we were going to be family. ”

“We can still be that.” I’ve never begged in my life, but right now, it fucking feels like it. “We can still?—”

“You used him!” she seethes. “You used me. Just like Brad did.”

I reach out to her?—

And she flinches away from me.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me again.”

“Mia, I?—”

“Here.” She slips the engagement ring off her finger and hurls it on the ground. “Keep it. And keep your money, too. I’m done.”

The sirens become deafening. Within seconds, paramedics are rushing through the garden, hauling Kallie onto a stretcher.

Mia says something to them. Moments later, she’s climbing into the back of the ambulance and pulling Maksim along with her.

“Mia, stop,” I growl. “We’re not done talking.”

“Yes, we are.”

“I—”

“Goodbye, Yulian.”

Then the doors slam shut.