“Aleksandra,” Agent Melinda Malone’s voice clears through the fog. She removes the tape from my mouth and helps me sit, unbinding my hands. “It’s a good thing we put a surveillance team on the preschool.”
Are they after Antonio or Mikhail?
I gasp for breath, glancing out past the FBI agent as a team of her men has the Russian members of the bratva in handcuffs: Luka, Dmitri, and Nikita.
“Sophia and Liam?” I need to know they’re safe.
“They’re inside the preschool with all the other kids,” she says. “You can relax. It’s all over.”
Is it over? What about Antonio?
I need to know that Mikhail isn’t holding him hostage, harming him. If they went after my children and me, why wouldn’t they go after him?
But I can’t bring the federal agents to his compound without betraying his trust. I chew on my bottom lip and step out of the vehicle.
“Can I see the twins?” I ask.
“Of course.” She takes me across the street, and I ring the buzzer, stepping into the building. Agent Malone waits outside. She speaks with another agent while I enter the preschool.
I shut the door behind myself and am relieved when I’m granted entrance inside and the twins are oblivious to the drama that just unfolded. They both embrace me with a hug and ramble on about their exciting day, how they fingerpainted trees and learned about growing vegetables.
It’s a relief that they’re safe.
“Give me a second,” I say to the twins and approach Kira, the director of the preschool.
“Do you know what’s going on?” she asks. “We’ve had a few parents commenting on an FBI bust outside. They’re afraid to leave with their children.”
It’s easy to lie. “I don’t know anything,” I say and hope there’s no evidence of the duct tape that was on my face. My wrists are sore and bruised, but she can’t see the marks left behind with my winter coat on. “Can I borrow your phone? I left mine at the house,” I say.
I need to get hold of Antonio and ensure that Mikhail isn’t inside the compound.
“Of course,” Kira says. She pulls out her cell phone, and I dial Antonio’s number. I’m grateful he gave it to me and told me to memorize it.
It rings, and I hear a gruff Russian, “Hello?”
My stomach drops, and my hands tremble at the sound of his voice.
It’s Mikhail.
I roll my lips together and end the call. I quickly block the number I just called and hand the phone back to the director. If Mikhail attempts to call the phone back, hopefully, he won’t get through.
“Thanks,” I say and offer a weak smile.
I escort the twins outside, and Agent Malone stands just a few feet from the entrance conversing with another FBI agent.
“Agent Malone,” I say and bring the children with me. I don’t want to say much in front of Liam and Sophia, but we need a ride back to Antonio’s, and I need her help.
* * *
Antonio is going to hate me. He may never forgive me, but the way I see it, his safety and his life are worth more than any amount of anger that he could bestow on me.
The twins are seated in the back of the FBI squad car. I’m situated with them, and as we round the corner to the compound and approach the guarded entrance, I lean forward.
“Open the window and let me do the talking,” I say.
As far as I know, they don’t have a warrant. They’re here because I invited them and asked for their assistance.
The automatic window is rolled down as we slow down and come to a crawl.