Alexei’s eyes flash toward me for another fraction of a second, taking in the child I’m shielding with my body, absorbing the way he’s clinging to my legs while observing the proceedings with enormous, uncomprehending eyes.
That’s why they’re all speaking English, I realize with a distant corner of my mind. They’re hoping Slava won’t understand everything with his still-limited knowledge of the language—and it’s at least partially working. He can see the adults pointing guns at each other, but he doesn’t fully get why.
Alexei’s gaze returns to Alina, the black orbs burning with even darker hunger. “All right. We have a deal. Lay down the gun and walk toward me.”
“Do not fucking do it.” Nikolai’s voice is whip sharp. “I can take him.”
“Maybe.” She lays her weapon on the ground. “Or maybe you’ll both die. Maybe Chloe and Slava will as well. Think about that.”
Nikolai’s jaw clenches. “I’m not letting you do this.”
A bitter smile touches her lips. “It’s not your call, brother. Nor is it mine. That whole fate business you believe in? Well, mine was decided when I was fifteen, and it’s time I stopped running from it. You and Konstantin have shielded me long enough.”
Nikolai is about to argue further, I can see it, but she forestalls any further discussion by swiftly walking over to Alexei—who grabs her elbow and pulls her to his side as soon as she’s within reach.
The possessive way he holds her pinned against him leaves no doubt of his intent, his dark figure looming over her making me think of Hades dragging Persephone down into the underworld.
Nikolai must see the same thing because his face twists with fury and he takes a half-step forward—only to halt when Alexei’s finger tightens warningly on the trigger.
“Don’t, Kolya.” Alina’s eyes glitter brightly as Alexei begins backing up toward the tree line, dragging her along while keeping his gun trained on Nikolai. “I’ll be fine. Just take care of Chloe and Slava, and I’ll see you back in Moscow sometime, okay? And tell Konstantin not to look for me. I don’t want blood spilled on my behalf!”
The last words reach us as a shout from the distance, and Nikolai’s gaze burns with hatred as he watches his enemy disappear into the darkness with his prize, the shadows closing around them like a lover’s fierce embrace.
58
Chloe
I wake up to a cacophony of drills and hammers in the distance—a familiar soundtrack for the past few days. Ever since the attack last week, both the house and the grounds of the compound have been undergoing major renovations and security upgrades, including a quintupling of our guard force.
Nikolai is determined to ensure that no one, be it the Leonovs or some other enemy of ours, can breach our walls again, no matter how many mercenaries or advanced weapons they have at their disposal.
Opening my eyes, I take in the empty mattress next to me and the faint morning light seeping in through the blinds. It’s barely sunrise, so my husband must’ve gotten up early for the videoconference with his brothers regarding the ongoing search for Alina—if he slept at all last night, that is. Much to my worry, his middle-of-the-night runs have increased in both frequency and duration since the attack, so much so that I don’t know when he’s getting any rest at all.
The door swings open, and the object of my musings enters the bedroom.
I sit up, my heart squeezing at the bleak expression on his face.
“Nothing?” I ask quietly as he crosses the room toward me.
He shakes his head. “It’s like they’ve disappeared off the face of the fucking planet. Konstantin thinks he’s holding her somewhere completely off the grid, but where is anyone’s guess at this point.”
“I’m so sorry.” I reach over to squeeze his hand as he sits on the edge of the bed, but he pulls me onto his lap instead. Wrapping his powerful arms tightly around me, he buries his face in my hair and inhales deeply.
When he pulls back to meet my gaze, some of the tension in his face has eased. Cupping my cheek, he asks softly, “How are you feeling, zaychik? Did you sleep well?”
I turn my face to press a kiss into his palm before bringing his hand down to my chest. “Yes.” I smile to dispel the lingering worry in his eyes. “I’m fine, I promise.”
To say that Nikolai has been babying me over the past few days would be a major understatement. Though a few shallow cuts and bruises on my bare feet were the extent of my injuries, he’s been treating me like I’ve sustained another gunshot wound—or at the very least, have been severely traumatized. And while it’s true that I’ve been having nightmares again, I’m far from falling apart.
Not that I’m not worried about Alina—I am. Nikolai told me about the betrothal agreement their father made with Boris Leonov when Alina was barely fifteen, and if I still had any doubts that the man deserved his fate at Nikolai’s hands, they disappeared in that moment.