“Do we have a deal?” I ask curtly. Behind him, at the top of the stairwell, there’s a dash of movement. It’s Sophia and Liam, I’m sure of it.
Are they with Ardian and Monte? If I can easily spot the twins, any number of Mikhail’s men could also notice them.
“Mommy!” Sophia squeals and hurries down the stairs with her brother right behind her. She’s wearing a bright yellow dress, and her hair is a bit disheveled—the matching yellow ribbon in her hand.
My men are nowhere in sight.
They couldn’t have been caught, or Mikhail would have been informed.
Are they still searching the property for Sophia and Liam?
Liam hurries to Aleksandra’s hip, securing himself at her side when smoke begins to waft from the stairwell.
The fire alarm blares with a high-pitched annoyance that is deafening.
“Dmitri and Nikita, find out what the hell is going on. Everyone else outside,” Mikhail shouts over the ear-piercing alarm.
Aleksandra grabs Liam, clutching her leg, and I reach for Sophia, lifting her into my arms as we head out the front door with Mikhail and most of his men leading the way.
Two of his guards head up the stairs toward the smoke, coughing, guns held up in unison.
Did Ardian and Monte set off a fire upstairs? Is that why they sent the twins downstairs to protect them from further danger?
Is there a fire, or is it just a rouse?
My men can easily handle two of their soldiers, but why defy a direct order to retrieve the twins and get out of the building?
“Did you do this?” Mikhail snarls and juts his finger at me as we hurry outside.
The air is frigid, and Sophia is shivering in my arms. I remove my black blazer and slide it over her shoulders to help warm her.
Liam has his face buried in Aleksandra’s chest. His hands are tucked against her dress, doing his best to keep warm.
“Let us go,” I say. “The kids are freezing. Let me put them in the car and take them home.”
“Home?” Mikhail chuckles with his thick Russian accent. “And you think that’s with you?”
Aleksandra approaches her brother and rests a hand on his arm. “Let me go with him.”
“I promised our father that I’d see to it that you’re taken care of. That means you’re getting married, little sister.”
Mikhail has his head wrapped around the idea of Aleksandra being a bride, whether she wants to wed or not.
Sophia shivers in my arms. My blazer isn’t enough to keep her warm with the sun setting. The last thing I want is for my children to get sick from being out in the cold.
“Let me marry your sister. I’ve already made you a generous offer,” I say.
What will it take to convince him that Aleksandra and the children are better off with me?
“Please, Mikhail. He’s the children’s father,” Aleksandra pleads with him.
“Mikhail!” Nikita calls, hurrying outside.
Mikhail grumbles, pulls out of Aleksandra’s grasp and stalks up the stairs toward his soldier. “What did you find?” he asks. He’s loud, abrasive, and I can’t help but wonder if my men got out already. Perhaps the fire was a diversion for them to sneak back to the vehicle.
But that wasn’t the plan. Something must have gone awry.
“A candle was knocked over in Aleksandra’s room. Dmitri and I put out the fire, but her room has significant smoke damage,” Nikita says. His white shirt is dirty, covered in smoke and grime from the fire upstairs.