41. Chapter 41

forty-one

Leonid

I lean against the tree, eyes fixed on the cabin in the distance. The power’s already cut, the entire place swallowed by the night. It’s silent now.

She’s in there, probably thinking she’s finally safe, tucked away with her little secret. Suka has no fucking clue I’m this close. No idea the noose is tightening around her neck.

My lips curl as the tension coils in my chest.

I’ve waited for this moment, letting her think she’s outsmarted me. Stupid suka . She thinks she can just disappear? Run from me? Not a chance.

Maksim stands next to me, cracking his knuckles. “You know,” he says, voice low but smug, “we could’ve wrapped this up an hour ago. But no, gotta let the big man have his little surprise party.”

I grit my teeth, my jaw tightening at his words, but I keep my eyes locked on the cabin, ignoring his yapping. He doesn’t know when to shut up.

He keeps going, though.

“Seriously, boss, what’s the deal? You getting hard over the idea of scaring some woman and her brat? Or are you just dragging this out for fun?”

“Shut the nahhooi up, you absolute mudak !” My patience snaps.

That peedor laughs, dark and low, nudging Dmitry. “The boss is all worked up. Must be something about this Clara Caldwell , huh? She’s got you playing fucking hide-and-seek. Just admit it, you’re loving this.”

I clench my jaw, eyes still on the cabin. “You don’t know shit, Maksim. Keep running your mouth, and I’ll make sure you’re the one babysitting that kid when this is over.”

Dmitry snorts, arms crossed like the mountain of muscle he is. “Like you’d trust him with a kid. He can’t even keep track of his own balls.”

“Fuck you,” Maksim shoots back, not missing a beat.

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” I growl, low and controlled, not wanting to ruin the surprise. My eyes narrow as I focus back on the house, blocking out their bullshit.

There’s something about Clara that’s been gnawing at me.

Why the fuck does she want me dead? Why go through all this trouble?

None of it makes sense.

“Positions,” I bark into the earpiece. “Surround the place, keep it quiet.”

The men move in, blending into the dark. The whole time, my pulse is steady, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I step forward, boots crunching softly on the dirt, getting closer to the cabin. Through the window, there’s a faint glow from the lantern.

I crouch low, peering in.

There she is— Clara Caldwell —curled up on the couch, just like I knew she’d be. The dim light flickers, casting long shadows over her. And there, tucked close to her, a small figure.

The kid.

Is she married? Whose kid is that?

The thought hits me harder than I expected.

Married? Some other prick’s been fucking her?

I feel my blood boiling more than it should. Suka , and I’m suddenly pissed off.

Some asshole in her life? Lying next to her at night? Touching her?

I shake my head like I’m trying to swat the thoughts away as if they’re fucking flies. Useless. Doesn’t help. I still feel like killing the asshole.

I look up, and there’s Maksim already at the door, grinning like an idiot. Mudak always been a loose cannon. Never could follow orders.

“This thing’s not stopping shit, boss,” he mutters softly, twisting the handle until it finally gives with a soft creak. He grins back at me, smug as usual.

I turn my glare on Maksim. Without a word, I move toward the now slightly open door, stepping in front of him.

“After you,” he whispers, mocking me with his hand, gesturing me forward. I ignore him, my pulse steady, eyes narrowing on the faint light flickering inside.

I push the door open silently, Maksim slipping in behind me without a sound.

The smell hits me first—stale wood, dust, and something else, something old. The kind of smell that clings to places like this, places where people think they can hide.

I smirk.

My boots move slowly toward the room where the lantern is, the floor creaking softly under my weight.

Creak.

The floor beneath me groans, loud enough to make the hair on my neck stand up. Shit.

I feel Maksim and Dmitry freeze where they’re standing.

Clara stirs on the couch, her form wrapped in a blanket, a small figure tucked close to her side. I freeze, eyes on her as the dim light catches her face. But it’s not Clara who wakes up first.

A tiny body shifts under the blanket, just barely stirring. I freeze, eyes locked on the little form next to Clara. The dim light flickers and I see the kid’s head starting to lift.

Slow. Deliberate.

The kid sits up, his movements groggy but focused, like he’s sensing something. He rubs his eyes, blinking into the darkness—and then his gaze snaps to mine. My breath fucking catches.

Tiny, sharp eyes lock on me like he knows exactly who I am, exactly what’s happening. It’s not just some kid. The shadow moves, and the light barely catches his face. His little head shifts, and for a moment, I think I’m losing my mind.

I almost want to stop . To abandon the whole fucking mission.

Curly brown hair. Sharp brown eyes.

Yob tvoyu mat’.

He stares at me like I’m some ghost standing at the foot of his bed. My chest tightens, but my face stays cold, locked in place. Then, the kid’s voice cuts through the silence, soft but clear.

“Mommy?”

I feel my pulse slam against my ribs.

Mommy.

He blinks again, his voice louder this time. “Mommy… bad guys inside.”

I don’t move.

Can’t. My mind reels as Clara stirs beside him, her body slow to respond. But all I can see is the kid’s face, staring right at me.

It’s like looking in a fucking mirror.

I take a step back, my boot scraping against the wooden floor again, but I don’t care anymore. My chest feels like it’s caving in, my thoughts spiraling out of control.

This kid… looks like me.