IRIS
The safe house is in controlled chaos, everyone packing essentials with practiced efficiency that blows my mind. They look like they’re getting ready for war, and it twists something in my gut as I sit on the bed, watching. Roman helps Andrei carefully pack all my medications, counting doses and organising them in a specialised case.
I sigh when I look down at my swollen ankles, feeling how puffy my face is from the preeclampsia. It’s shit, as if we don’t have enough to worry about. But more than that, I know they all still find me attractive, yet when I look in the mirror, I don’t recognise the girl staring back at me. Pregnancy is changing my body so much, and I feel lost, like I’m also losing a part of myself along the way.
“The boat will be ready in thirty minutes,” Rowan announces, entering the bedroom with a satellite phone in hand. “Our window for departure is narrow. We need to be offshore before midday at the very latest.”
My heart rate picks up at his words, the blood pressure monitor showing a slight increase, no doubt given the stressful situation. Andrei pauses in his packing, glances at the machine, and then makes a note on his tablet which is sitting next to me on the bed.
“Just try to remain as calm as possible, okay, Iris?” he says gently, and I know he’s just trying to look after me, but I want to scream at him. I am fucking trying.
“Hey, Princess,” Roman whispers softly, and I blink, not having noticed that he’s right in front of me. “Everything will be okay, baby.” He leans forward, fusing his lips to mine in a gentle kiss that is no less passionate than ones he’s given me in the heat of love-making. Roman is still my sunshine, and I can feel my clenched hands loosening, my muscles unwinding as he coaxes my tongue with his. “That’s better,” he murmurs against my lips, giving them another brief peck before resuming his packing task.
“You don’t play fair,” I huff, and he chuckles, but I feel better, less tense and wound up.
Hunter’s standing in the doorway, his gunshot wound is still bandaged from the last supply run, but hidden underneath his T-shirt. He’s been quiet since dawn, observing the preparations with a tightness around his eyes that suggests more than physical pain. I’m not the only one worried, and I want to go to him, to comfort him like Roman just did for me, but Ro growled at me when I tried to get up from the bed. Overprotective bastard.
“Where’s Nik? Bubby?” he asks, voice deceptively calm given the tension that practically pours off his tight muscles.
“Securing the perimeter with Dima, making sure we haven’t missed any more of Sergi’s little spy devices,” Roman answers without looking up from the medication case. “Bubby is packing shit from the main living area, but I think we’re almost all done.”
Hunter’s jaw tightens. “Roman, could you give me a moment with Iris?”
Roman glances up, hesitant as he takes Hunter in. “We don’t have many moments to spare.”
“Just one.” Hunter’s tone leaves no room for argument, and my pulse spikes slightly at the way he speaks to Ro.
After a pause, Roman closes the medication case, gives Andrei a nod and they both step out, Rowan following after a hard look at his leader, leaving Hunter alone with me. As soon as the door closes, Hunter moves to my side, dropping carefully to one knee to meet my eyes. His body practically thrums with tension, and a frown makes my brows drop as I wonder what got him into this state and why he didn’t want to share it with the others.
“What’s happened, Daddy? What did you overhear?” I ask him softly, reaching to touch his shoulder, feeling how rock hard it is.
“Enough.” Hunter takes my hand, studying my face as he rubs the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. “Do you know what Nik’s planning? His ‘message’ to Sergi?”
I shake my head slightly, but my gut twists again. This must be something bad for Hunt to be so worked up. “He just said he was going to remind Sergi that he has vulnerabilities too.”
“He’s targeting Sergi’s mistresses,” Hunter tells me flatly, and my breath hitches. “Using them as leverage. Roman just told me. He’s uncomfortable with it, but going along with Nik’s play.”
“Targeting them how?” Surely it can’t be that bad. Nik would never harm innocents, would he?
“Information for now. Locations, routines, but it’s an explicit threat.” His fingers tighten around mine, his eyes shining with an emerald fire. “It’s a line I didn’t think we’d cross. Involving civilians.” His jaw works. “It’s a line I’m not sure I can cross, Peaches.” His eyes bore into mine, pleading with me to understand his dilemma.
My free hand goes to my swollen belly, as if my touch alone can protect our unborn child from the hell its father is determined to raise on us. “He’s trying to protect us, Hunt. To protect him.”
“I know why he’s doing it.” Hunt sighs, his gaze dropping to my hand, to my stomach. “That doesn’t make it right.” His voice is steady, but there’s also steel beneath it. A peek at the ruthless gang leader that will protect the innocent because they can’t save themselves. “We agreed when this started that we wouldn’t become like them. That we’d be better than Sergi.”
The door opens at that moment, and Nik enters, his expression becoming guarded when he takes us in.
“We need to move,” he orders, his brown eyes flicking back and forth between Hunter and I. “Whatever this is, it can wait.”
Hunter’s face flushes slightly, his nostrils flaring as he lets go of my hand, rising to his feet, and turning to face Nik. “No, it can’t.” His words are clipped, and I don’t think he’s spoken to Nik like this since before they became close. It hurts something inside me to hear it, and Nik holds completely still, not flinching, but I can see a flicker of something that looks like pain in his eyes. “Roman told me about the mistresses, Nik.”
Something dangerous replaces the pain in Nik’s eyes, his upper lip curling into an almost snarl. “Roman should learn to keep operational details to himself.”
“So it’s true then?” Hunter steps forward, his larger frame looming over Nik, though Nik doesn’t back down an inch. It’s like watching two male lions face off, and I fucking hate it. I hate the animosity between them, the tension becoming so thick I can taste it. “You’re threatening innocent women now?”
“I’m creating leverage,” Nik replies coldly, and I shiver, because for a moment, I can see Sergi in the way he’s addressing this, in the way he doesn’t give a fuck about who gets caught in the crossfire. “And I’m not threatening anyone. I’m simply ensuring my father understands that his psychological warfare works both ways.”
“They’re civilians,” Hunter practically spits, stepping even more into Nik’s personal space, their chests brushing. I swallow, my pulse loud in my ears as I watch them, not sure how to intervene and prevent the explosion which feels like it’s about to happen at any moment.
“There are no civilians in my father’s world,” Nik snaps, his arms sweeping wide. “Everyone close to him is either an asset or an accomplice. Those women know exactly who and what he is.”
“You don’t know that.” Hunter’s voice remains controlled, but barely. “What if they’re like Iris, with no choice?” I flinch, and Nik growls. “You’re crossing a fucking line, Nik.”
“I’m doing what’s necessary to protect my family.” Nik’s eyes flick to me, burning with brown fire, then they turn back to Hunter. “My father is acquiring medical equipment for premature births. He’s preparing to extract Iris and take our son. You think I won’t use every weapon at my disposal to prevent that?”
“There are other ways—”
“What ways?” Nik demands, stepping even closer to Hunt. “Tell me, Hunter. What brilliant tactical solution have you devised that I’ve overlooked? My father has global resources, military-grade surveillance, and an army of loyal men. We have three gang members, two of which are wounded, one ex-bratva heir, two Russian ex-convicts, one fucking teenager, and a pregnant woman with a life-threatening condition. Give me an alternative if you have one which is so much better?”
Hunter doesn’t back down, his nostrils flared as his words escape through gritted teeth. “We’ve always had the moral high ground. Our fucking humanity, Nik. That matters.”
“Moral high ground won’t stop a bullet,” Nik hisses, and I can barely breathe as I’m reminded of Hunter being shot, Roman being shot. “It won’t protect Iris from being kidnapped. Again. It won’t save our son from being raised as my father’s heir. And I will do anything, fucking anything, to prevent that from happening. To stop any child having to go through what I did as a child.” His chest heaves, both men so tense they’re vibrating.
The blood pressure monitor on my wrist beeps, the numbers having climbed without my knowledge as I watched the confrontation escalate. Both men turn immediately, the argument forgotten as they move towards me.
“Peaches—”
“Malyshka—”
“We need to stop this,” I tell them firmly, despite my breath being a little short. “Now.” Hunter kneels in front of me again, checking the monitor, holding my hand in his. Nik sits on the bed beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Hunter’s right,” I say after a moment. “We can’t become what we’re fighting against, but Nik’s right too. We need leverage.”
“Iris—” Hunter begins.
I shake my head, cutting him off. “Listen to me, both of you. I won’t have you tearing each other apart when we need to be united.” I look at Nik. “Find another way to send your message. One that doesn’t involve threatening women, even indirectly. Please, Nik.”
His jaw works as he stares at me, then he sighs, leaning in to press a kiss to my temple before pulling back and looking into my eyes again, his drained of the rage that filled them moments ago. “What do you suggest, Malyshka?”
“Target his pride,” Hunter interjects as I’m thinking. “His reputation in the organisation. You know that would hurt him more than any physical threat.”
Nik’s eyes narrow thoughtfully, and I can feel my tight chest loosening as he considers Hunt’s proposal. “Information about his financial arrangements. The side deals he’s made that compromise the organisation’s interests. The money he’s skimmed off the top telling no one.”
“Exactly.” Hunt nods. “Show his lieutenants he’s been skimming, playing favourites, weakening their position for personal gain. Turn them against him and ruin him in one fell swoop.”
“Setting the stage for your takeover without involving civilians,” I add, lightness filling my chest as I contribute to the plan. I take Nik’s hand in my free one, squeezing it. “Please, Nik.”
The tension in Nik’s shoulders eases a little. “It’s riskier. Less direct leverage.”
“But cleaner,” Hunter insists, and I’m almost holding my breath, hoping Nik sees this as the way forward rather than bringing in any innocents. Hunt was right. They may have had about as much choice as I did, and that was no choice at all. “And it builds your case for leadership rather than just striking back.”
Nik studies Hunter’s face, then mine. Finally, he gives a sharp nod. “Da. I’ll adjust the message, but I need assurances from you, Hunt.” He looks Hunter directly in the eyes, his jaw set. “When the time comes—if it’s them or us—you won’t hesitate because of your moral code.”
“I’ve never hesitated to protect this family,” Hunter replies firmly. “But there’s a difference between protecting what’s ours and becoming what we hate. I won’t cross that, Nik. I can’t.”
Rowan opens the door before Nik can respond. “Boat’s ready. We need to move. Now. So whatever this shit is, wrap it the fuck up.”
I look between the two men, the two leaders. They’ve at least come to a compromise, which is perhaps all we can hope for. For now anyway, but the underlying tension from earlier remains between them.
They both help me to my feet, Hunter catching Nik’s eyes above my head.
“We do this right, Sweetheart,” Hunt says quietly. At least he’s back to using his cute nickname. “Or we’re no better than Sergi.”
Nik’s face remains impassive, but he gives a slight nod—acknowledgment, if not full agreement. For now, it will have to be enough, because we have much more urgent problems to attend to, namely getting the fuck off this island that is no longer safe.
As much as part of me wants to walk on my own, I find myself leaning against both men as we move toward the door, one protective hand on my belly, the other grasping Nik’s arm for support. The monitor on my wrist has finally stopped beeping, thank fuck, but the numbers are higher than I know any of us like.
And I can’t help feeling that time is running out in more ways than one.
