Chapter 29

Lev

A s I watch the last of the flames being extinguished, rage courses through me.

The firefighters are reigning it in, their efficiency a small comfort compared to the ruin of the church—a place that was supposed to witness our joy, now a charred and soaked mess.

I scan the crowd, my eyes darting from face to face. Relief tempers the anger slightly; everyone seems to have made it out, though not unscathed. EMTs are busy tending to burns and cases of smoke inhalation, their presence a grim reminder of how close we came to tragedy.

I rush over to Dalia, who's sitting on a gurney inside an ambulance. Her face is pale but composed and seeing her there, seemingly unharmed, reignites my focus.

"Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nods, giving me a small, reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Lev, really."

I turn to the EMT. "She's pregnant. Are you sure everything's fine?"

The EMT, a young guy with a calm demeanor, meets my gaze steadily.

"Her lungs sound clear," he says. "But she really should be checked out at the hospital, just to be certain."

I find Dalia's hand, squeezing it lightly. "Okay, let’s go."

Dalia holds up her other hand. “You make sure everyone else is alright first then meet me at the hospital, okay? I need to know no one is seriously hurt.”

I shake my head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. The EMTs will take good care of me.”

“Okay. I’ll be right behind you.”

I lean in and give Dalia a quick but intense kiss. "I’ll see you soon," I promise as I reluctantly release her hand.

The remnants of the fire still hiss and steam around us as the firefighters wrap up, and I know I need to act fast to find out what happened before any evidence is lost in the cleanup. With a heavy heart, I turn back to the scene, my mind shifting back into high gear.

I spot Elena and Maura a short distance away, their beautiful bridesmaid dresses marred with soot and ash. Striding over, I check on them. "Are you two alright?"

They both shake their heads in the affirmative, brushing off their dresses with a resilience that's become characteristic. "We're fine," Maura assures me.

"Thanks for jumping in with the extinguishers," I say, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders gently. "Seriously, you two were incredible."

With reassurances exchanged, I turn my attention back to the church.

My gaze sweeps across the crowd, sharply assessing the situation as my mind races through the implications of today's disaster. I spot the officiant off to the side, looking dazed, and several children huddled together with EMTs attending to them. My jaw clenches at the sight, realizing what we came close to losing.

The sight of the kids, particularly my niece and nephew—Sasha and Michael, Maura and Luk now with them—stirs a fury within me like nothing else.

"Why were the doors locked?" I murmur under my breath, a question that’s been gnawing at me since we broke them down. This wasn’t just an accident.

As my anger simmers, threatening to boil over, I notice Vanya and Vladimir. They’re standing by the car, their expressions grim. I stride over to them.

"Vanya, Vladimir," I call out as I approach, my voice carrying the sharp edge of my barely contained rage. They both turn, instantly alert to my tone.

"We need to talk. Now.”

The gravity of the situation is etched deeply into their faces. Vanya looks particularly shaken, his eyes wide with concern.

"Lev, is everyone okay? Is there anything I can do to help?" Vanya's voice tremors slightly as he speaks.

"Everyone's accounted for. A few injuries here and there. Dalia's headed to the hospital to make sure the baby is okay." My words seem to bring a brief wave of relief to Vanya, though his hands continue to tremble.

Vladimir, who appears somewhat calmer, adds, "I was already running late when I got a call from Vanya about car trouble on my way over, so I went to pick him up."

I fix him with a sharp gaze. "And why were you running behind, Vladimir?"

He offers a weak smile, a rare break in his usually stoic demeanor. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pair of cufflinks.

"It's silly, really," he begins, holding them up for me to see. "These are my lucky cufflinks. They were a gift from my grandfather, who said they bless any wedding with good luck. Dumb, I know, but it's sentimental. Anyway, I couldn't find them this morning..."

His voice trails off.

The unease in my gut deepens as I process Vladimir's seemingly innocuous delay.

I cut off the conversation abruptly. "Come with me," I instruct them sternly. They follow without hesitation, sensing the urgency in my tone.

I nod sharply to Luk and Yuri, signaling them to join us. I briefly consider calling Elena over, but she's entrenched with Maura and the kids, soothing Michael and Sasha amidst their tears and confusion. She’s needed there.

Once our group is huddled together, away from the crowd, I lay out the situation in no uncertain terms.

"It goes without saying we’re going to get to the bottom of what the fuck happened here today.”

Luk crosses his arms, his mouth set in a grim line. "It's almost certain this was a plot.”

Vladimir’s face blanches as he catches up. "Are you saying this was intentional?"

Yuri steps in, his voice steady but grave. "The doors to the church were sealed. If we hadn't managed to get them open..." He lets the implication hang ominously in the air. The potential disaster we narrowly avoided looms large over us.

My jaw clenches.

"This is the third goddamn attempt on our lives," I declare, my expression hard as I scan the faces before me. "This time, they aimed to wipe out the entire Ivanov family in one fell swoop."

Luk nods gravely. "We've been lucky three times in a row—asking for a fourth is tempting the fates. It’s only a matter of time before we’re not so fortunate."

"I'm furious at this failure," I confess, the admission raw. "But I promise you, this will be rectified. We will find who’s behind this, and we will make them pay dearly."

My tone leaves no room for doubt, my commitment to safeguarding my family absolute. We will turn this crisis into a catalyst for tightening our defenses and striking back with precision. The next move is ours.

I take a moment to survey the scene, noting that the firefighters and EMTs seem to have things under control. I turn to Luk. "I need you to take over here, ensure everyone is looked after."

"Of course," Luk replies.

With that responsibility handed off, I address the rest of my men. "I'm heading to the hospital to check on Dalia.”

I stride to my car with purpose. Slipping behind the wheel, I roughly pull off my bow tie, the fabric suddenly irritating and feeling like a noose. As the engine springs to life, I press the accelerator, the car's power mirroring the surge of adrenaline through my veins.

As I race down the road, anger simmers within me, a lethal quiet storm. This was an attack not just on our wedding but on my family, on everything I stand to protect.

The thought of Dalia, scared and hurt, fuels a growing resolve.

This isn't just about retribution; it's about sending a message—no one threatens my family and lives to tell the tale.