Pavel
Ilie in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.
Kat’s breathing is slow and even beside me, but my mind refuses to shut down. Every time I close my eyes, I’m bombarded by thoughts of Piotr, the Novikovs, and everything that threatens the sanctity of our home. Even though Kat and Ana are safe under this roof, I can’t shake the feeling that I need to act soon, before everything unravels and becomes too dangerous.
I slip out from under the covers as quietly as I can. Kat murmurs something unintelligible, her brow creasing for an instant before settling again. I brush my fingertips lightly over her hair, fighting the urge to shake her awake just to have her reassure me that everything will be fine.
But she’s been through enough, and she needs sleep to keep herself and the baby healthy. I pull on a T-shirt and lounge pants, then pad down the hallway in bare feet. The place is silent, every shadow lengthened in the moonlight. It shouldn’t be so still; one of the guards is usually posted near the end of the hall. I clench my jaw at the sight of the empty corridor.
I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I just need some space to think.
My office is dim, the curtains drawn. I switch on the desk lamp and cross to the bar cart. I pour a splash of whiskey into a tumbler, just enough to take the edge off. I rest against the desk, glass in hand, letting my mind go to things I don’t want to think about but need to.
Piotr. Novikov. Both are threats I can’t afford to ignore, especially not now, when I have more to lose than ever. Kat is my wife, and now there’s Ana, our daughter, plus the baby on the way. The mere thought of someone trying to harm them makes me want to put my fist through a wall—or through Piotr’s skull.
I sip the whiskey, letting the sharp burn ground me. My best move might be to bypass Piotr altogether and go straight to Viktor Novikov and his right-hand man. If I can force a meeting, I’ll make a show of strength, so they realize going against me is a losing proposition.
Vlad asked for a couple of days to gather intel, to see if he could uncover more proof that Piotr orchestrated these attacks. I told him I’d wait, but every hour that passes feels like a chance for Piotr to dig deeper trenches around us.
Vlad had Ana and Camille’s things sent over, as promised. No doubt Piotr’s going to notice that two rooms in their house are empty, and when he does, he’ll know that something is afoot.
Conflict is coming, but for now, my girls are safe.
I take another sip, the liquid burning my throat. Piotr’s always been ambitious, but now he’s stepped over a line, using Ana as leverage, trying to sow discord. He’ll bring war to our families, if we let this drag on for much longer. I’d rather take the fight to him than wait like a sitting duck for it to come to me. Kat asked me to be patient, and I agreed for her sake—for now.
“Hey.” Kat’s voice cuts through the storm of my thoughts.
She’s wearing one of my button-downs, the hem hitting mid-thigh, barely covering her long, toned legs. It falls off one shoulder, exposing her smooth skin, the curve of her collarbone. Her hair is wild from sleep, she’s barefoot, and she looks tired, her eyelids still heavy. Even exhausted, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She leans against the doorframe, watching me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I down the last of my whiskey, letting the heat settle in my chest. “Too much to think about.” My gaze rakes down her body, slow and deliberate. “You should be in bed.”
She tilts her head, the faintest smirk playing on her lips. “So should you.”
I set the glass down. “It’s been a busy night.”
“I know.” She lingers near the door, as if uncertain whether she’s allowed to approach.
I stand up from the desk, but she lifts a hand, stopping me. “Wait,” she says softly.
Something in her expression makes my stomach clench. “What is it?”
I can see she’s trembling. “I have one more confession, and I need to tell you before this goes any further.”
“Go on.”
She inhales a shaky breath then holds out her hand. In it is a small glass vial. It catches the lamplight, the liquid inside nearly colorless. Tears fill her eyes.
“What is that?” I ask. But I already know.
“Poison.”
The word hangs in the air.
“Piotr gave me this,” she says. “He wanted me to kill you on our wedding night.”
A flash of fury lances through me. I stare at the vial before looking up at her tear-streaked cheeks. I clench my fists as I recall everything that happened that night, the fear in her eyes, the way she seemed distant afterward.
“He told you to kill me,” I echo, the words coming out in a bitter snarl. “And you agreed?”
Tears slide down her cheeks. “I was stupid, angry, misguided. It was ingrained in me that your family was responsible for the death of my parents. Piotr convinced me it was the only way to get revenge. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. I’ve kept the vial hidden ever since.”
I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly, forcing myself to keep my voice level. “Why didn’t you throw it away? Destroy it?”
She shrugs helplessly, tears still falling. “I couldn’t face it, I guess. I needed to remember how close I came to making the worst decision of my life. I never intended to use it.”
Part of me wants to lash out at her, at the fact that she kept yet another secret from me. But there’s another part, one that recognizes the fear she’s been carrying, one that knows she’s telling me because she trusts me now.
“You should have told me sooner.”
She nods, swallowing. “I know. I’m sorry. I was afraid you’d never forgive me.”
I pluck the vial from her fingers, my gaze fixed on the lethal contents. I reach for her shoulder with my free hand, drawing her closer. I glare down at the tiny vial in my hand, my jaw tight. “You’re forgiven,” I say coldly. I toss the damn thing into the trash. “It’s done.”
Kat releases a shaky breath, tears spilling over onto my shirt. “You’re not angry?”
“I am,” I snap, “but not with you, not anymore. He used you, your grief, your loyalty. That’s on Piotr.”
A half-broken laugh escapes her, one I can only imagine is relief. “Thank you.” She tilts her head back and wipes her cheeks, eyes glistening. “I love you.”
Something hot sparks in my chest. I take her face in my hands, leaning in for a kiss that starts gentle then grows desperate. “I love you, too, and I swear, I’ll fix all of this. He won’t touch you ever again.”
She clings to me, kissing me back fiercely through her tears. My body hums with the urge to take her back to our room, show her just how much I love her, but then we hear a crash downstairs.
We both freeze. Kat instinctively steps toward the office door, but I quickly grab her arm. I have security posted. Nobody should be getting close enough to break into my penthouse at this hour—or ever.
“Stay here,” I hiss, yanking out my phone. The camera feed shows my guard lying on the floor near the door, his legs sticking out. My pulse spikes. I can’t tell whether he’s dead or just unconscious. A wave of cold rage runs through me.
“Pavel?” Kat whispers. “What’s happening?”
“Get Ana and Camille,” I command, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Go to the panic room, lock it, and don’t come out until I say.”
She pales but doesn’t argue. “What about you?”
I’m already texting my men.
Breach. Now.
“Help is on the way.”
Before I can say anything else, a small explosion from downstairs echoes up the hall.
Kat yelps, fear in her eyes. I toss my phone aside, stepping in front of her as a swarm of at least a dozen armed men barrels into my office, their weapons aimed right at us. My mind spins.
Where the hell is my security detail?
“Get on the floor!” one of them barks, the muzzle of his gun pointed at my chest.
Fury boils within, but Kat’s right behind me, pressed against my back. If I try something, they’ll shoot her. I raise my hands slowly.
One intruder steps forward, jabbing his rifle at us. “Down! Now!”
I ease myself to my knees, pulling Kat down with me. I clench my jaw so hard it hurts. Masked strangers are taking over my home. Kat’s breath is shaky. I’m dying to lash out, but I can’t risk them turning their guns on her.
How the hell did this happen?
The men shout at each other as they form a perimeter. Another stares me down, his weapon inches from my face. I managed to hit send on that text, but it might be too late.
One of them yells, “Hands behind your head! Don’t fucking move!”
They force me onto my stomach, one of them smashing my phone beneath their boot. I snarl inwardly. My last link to help—gone. Pain rips through me when a rifle butt cracks against my shoulder. Kat cries out in fear, but they tell her to shut up. My mind roars with the urge to kill them all, but I stay still, swallowing the rage.
I’m yanked upright, my arms wrenched behind my back. Fire spreads through my muscles. I steal a quick look at Kat—she’s in the same state, trembling and restrained. The men bark orders to each other, scanning the halls for any other targets. If any of my guards are still alive, they’re nowhere to be found.
One of the men steps in front of me. “Where’s the rest of your family?”
I refuse to answer. He jerks my arms higher, pain burning down my spine. Kat stifles a sob beside me. I meet her eyes, trying to project calm, but inside, I’m fuming. If they so much as touch her…
Suddenly, they push both of us back down on our knees. The muzzle of a gun presses to my temple.
Ana had better be with Camille, I think, a red haze edging my vision. My unborn child, my wife, my daughter: Everything that matters to me is in jeopardy.
“Tell me where everyone else is,” another man snarls at me.
I keep my mouth shut. He tries again, but I only glare. I grunt as the butt of a rifle slams into my ribs. My head spins with agony, but still I don’t answer. Kat whimpers, tears streaming down her face. She’s terrified. I can’t afford to look weak; men like this thrive on fear.
The leader steps forward, gun at my face. “Tell us now, or you’re both dead.”
“Fuck you.”
He presses the barrel against my cheek. Kat’s cries, ripping my heart in half. But I won’t tell them anything.
In the back of my mind, one single thought screams: My men better show up soon, or we’re dead.
But if these bastards find Ana, if they dare harm what’s mine, I swear I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands. For now, though, I bide my time on the floor, breathing through the pain, letting them think they have the upper hand.
Because a cornered man with everything to lose is the most dangerous man alive.
