Kat
Iwatch Pavel disappear into the suite with his phone already pressed to his ear. His expression is hard, cold. He moves with purpose, his broad shoulders squared, his entire presence shifting into complete focus. I swallow, turning to the bodyguard stationed near me. He’s quiet, yet watchful.
“I’m going to my room,” I tell him, smoothing the front of my dress as I stand. “I’m going to pack. I’ll let you know when I need my bags taken to the car.”
He nods once. Nothing more. No further reaction, no questions. Just obedience.
I grab my phone and head straight to the bedroom, closing the door behind me, exhaling sharply. My hands curl into fists as I press them against the cool surface of the door, my pulse and my mind both racing. Something doesn’t feel right.
I call Vlad. He picks up on the second ring.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand.
Vlad sighs on the other end of the line. “You already know.”
“Novikov’s men attacked businesses under our protection,” I say, pacing the length of the room. “Four innocent people are dead. That’s what I know.” I stop at the edge of the bed, my fingers curling into fists again. “But that’s not all of it, is it?”
Vlad hesitates. He’s deciding what to tell me and what to keep to himself. My stomach knots. “Vlad. Don’t you even think about keeping me in the dark. Is Ana safe?”
“Of course,” he replies instantly. “You know I would never let anything happen to her.”
“Then what is it you’re not telling me?”
“Piotr knew about the attacks fast.” He pauses. “Too fast.”
A chill skates down my spine. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing,” Vlad snaps, but there’s tension in his voice. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”
I clench my jaw. “Vlad, don’t do that. Don’t say something like that, then act like it’s nothing.”
Silence.
I sit down and grip the edge of the bed, my nails digging into the fabric. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Vlad—”
“No. That’s it. End of discussion.”
I sigh heavily, frustration coursing through me. But I know when Vlad shuts down a conversation like that, he’s not going to open it again. At least not right now.
“You and Pavel are leaving soon?” Vlad asks.
“Yes. Not sure when exactly, but I know Pavel wants to be out of here within the next few hours.”
“Alright. Stay safe. Keep me in the loop about everything, and I mean everything. We need to execute this plan sooner than later. Emphasis on sooner.”
Something in his tone makes my throat tighten. It’s almost like he’s warning me. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Vlad is the brother I can trust. So does that mean there’s a brother I can’t trust? The thought is like a punch to the gut.
“I will. You won’t be left in the dark.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I doubt their sincerity. I’m only telling him what he wants to hear.
Just as I’m about to end the conversation, wanting to get away from it before it makes me think too much, Vlad speaks again.
“Kat.”
“Yeah?”
“Piotr wants to talk to you. Stay safe, sister.”
“You too.” My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out the sound of the ocean just outside the window. I should have known this was coming.
I hang up, and the phone immediately rings. I answer the call without saying a word. Piotr’s voice comes across the line, cold and cutting.
“Why is your husband still alive?”
I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and force my voice to remain steady. Calm. Controlled.
“There are bodyguards with us at all times. I haven’t had the chance to slip it into his drink or food with all those eyes on us.”
It’s a weak excuse, and I know it. He knows it.
“This never should have gone this far,” he says, anger edging his tone. “He was supposed to die on your wedding night.”
“Well, it didn’t happen that way. And considering I’m the one doing the deed, you could give me a little leeway.”
He chuckles. “Sister, if only you knew the things I’ve done to keep this family safe and secure, things way more malicious than slipping a little poison into a cocktail.”
I suppose he has a point there.
“I’m waiting for the right moment, Piotr. Pavel rarely lets me out of his sight, and I’ve already mentioned the bodyguards.”
Silence stretches for half a beat before his response slams into me like a whip crack. “Are you fucking him?”
I freeze. My pulse roars in my ears as fury surges through me, white-hot and immediate. “Don’t talk to me like that,” I snap, my voice sharp, biting.
He doesn’t acknowledge my response. His voice only grows colder, sharper, and more ruthless. “Then do your duty. Kill that bastard.”
I clench my jaw so hard, my teeth ache. My fingers dig into my palm, nails pressing into flesh as I grip the phone, my rage barely contained. I feel nothing but hatred toward him at this moment.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Katerina. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him again.”
I exhale slowly, trying to maintain my fury before responding. “My feelings for him ended when our parents died.”
Obviously, that’s a lie.
Piotr doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just lets the silence stretch, his cold presence reaching me through the phone.
He delivers his final words, clipped and cold before the line clicks off. “Remember where your loyalty should lie.”
I stare at my phone, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, my grip so tight I think I might snap the damn thing in half. This isn’t how our father taught them to lead. Our father commanded respect, but he didn’t rule through cruelty. He didn’t belittle. He didn’t manipulate the people closest to him, treating them like pieces on a chessboard. He didn’t need to, because people followed him willingly because they believed in him; because they respected him. Piotr demands loyalty, but he gets it through fear.
I rub a hand over my face. Why couldn’t I have done what I was supposed to do? My heart already knows the answer. It’s because, for the first time in years, I feel something. I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve recently shared with Pavel. I fell in love with him once before, and he’s the father of my child—even if he doesn’t know it.
My throat tightens and I press my lips together, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes.
Damn it. Vlad was right.
This plan was never going to work. Killing Pavel was never going to be easy, but now it seems impossible. I feel stuck between my familial loyalty to Piotr, who expects me to commit murder, and Pavel, who has done nothing but make me feel seen, desired, and, God help me, cared for in the last two days.
I don’t want to kill him. I don’t want anyone else to kill him either. But if his family really was behind the murder of my parents…
I groan, frustration building in my chest. I reach for the suitcase, flipping it open with a little too much force, and start throwing things in, my movements careless and erratic. My hands shake as I clumsily fold a dress, smoothing it out, trying to focus on the motion. I can’t let Piotr get to me. I can’t let him be the one who decides my future.
But I also can’t ignore the truth. Pavel is dangerous. He has blood on his hands. He lives a life of violence and power. But is he really guilty of murdering my parents? Or is Piotr just using me the same way he uses everyone else?
The thoughts make me feel sick, because if that’s true, and my own brother has been manipulating me into doing his dirty work, into carrying out his brand of vengeance for his own motives, I’ve wasted six years hating the wrong person.
