Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Renata

I stare at Ollie—my protector. The monster. My husband.

The tension is so thick it's choking me. He stands over the slumped man, blood on his hands, and yet somehow I'm the one who feels like I'm drowning.

Is he dead? I can't tell. Maybe it doesn't even matter anymore. He was just a tool, punished by the man I married. The man I thought I could love.

He was a means to an end, and Ollie did what he had to—wrung him out until there was nothing left.

The man's screams still echo in my head, each one like a dagger twisting in my gut. Ollie's face is a mask of control—impassive, but there's something in his eyes that looks like a plea. He blinks, and whatever humanity I imagined is gone. The same darkness I've come to expect is in its place, the inhumanity I've tried so hard to ignore.

The unease turns into a cold, hard knot in my belly.

He's here. It's too late.

A chill wraps around my spine, my worry burrowing into my mind, feeding on my deepest fears. "What does it mean?" I ask, but the words taste bitter. I don't even know if I want the answer anymore. What's the point of a next step if every move feels like a death sentence?

Ollie straightens, the lone wolf, the protector who would tear the world apart for me. But even as he promises safety, I wonder. What happens when the threat isn't out there, but standing right in front of him?

I've only ever loved three people—Isabella, Carlos, and Ollie. The three most unhinged, ruthless people to ever walk this earth. What does that say about me? Why do I gravitate toward the ones that burn everything they touch?

What in the actual fuck is wrong with me?

"First, we assess who's still here. You. My mother and my sister. Lev and Isabella are at the hospital, and everyone else has gone home. Next, I contact Aleks. We need to find out where he is." He draws me closer to him with one beckoning of his finger. I step closer to him even though I don't want to. The smell of another man's blood still lingers on him.

At my resistance, Ollie's expression shifts, the concern he showed for me moments ago slipping away like clouds through fingers. Maybe it was only an illusion, something I thought I could hold. His eyes are cold, merciless, his posture rigid. The man I love is gone; the cold, calculating murderer now stands before me.

"I need to keep you safe," Ollie orders, his voice cold and devoid of any comfort. There's no tenderness or reassurance, just command. He's not my husband right now but a general issuing orders.

I swallow, trying to steady myself as the reality of what happened settles in. We're not safe. The man who's haunted us has found us, and there's no time to waste. My only salvation is the man who stands before me now.

"You'll do exactly what I say while we make sure everyone is secure," he says harshly. Cold. He speaks to me like I'm one of his soldiers, but I'm not one of his men—I'm his wife, but right now, it doesn't seem as if he cares.

I shake my head. What matters is doing what he tells me and making sure that we stay safe.

"Keep barking orders at me, Ollie," I snap, my voice tense with anger. "Keep whispering sweet nothings in my ear and see how far that gets you."

"Renata," he says in a growl, his patience threadbare. "Behave yourself. Do not test me right now."

I grit my teeth because a part of me knows he's right. This is not time or place.

I follow him out of the room, even though I don't really have a choice because he's gripping my arm tightly. My legs are jelly as I will myself to keep going. My mind races, thoughts spinning out of control as I try to process everything. The house that's supposed to feel like a fortress feels like a trap, every creak of the floorboards and whisper of the wind outside making me jump. We gather in a second room, thankfully, because the one beside the living room still holds the body of a man bleeding out… or dead.

Tension is etched on everyone's faces as Ollie stands near the window, his hand hovering near his gun as he scans the grounds outside.

Ekaterina stands close to him, her fingers twisting nervously around the hem of her shirt. "Renata," she says gently, "Are you all right?"

I shake my head and don't answer.

"What's happened?" Polina asks, her face pale.

"We're locking everything down," Ollie snaps, his words clipped and sharp. He's already shifted into commander mode, the warmth he showed me earlier buried under layers of cold calculation. "No one leaves until we know the house is secure. I questioned the man who infiltrated us. He told me that Carlos is here."

"Here?" Polina's voice wavers, her face a mask of barely contained fear. We all feel it—the unspoken terror that Carlos could be in the very walls around us.

Ollie laughs mirthlessly. "Unfortunately, that's as far as we got. Your guess is as good as mine."

Polina and I share a glance.

"I wasn't able to get more information out of him. He could've been referring to New York for all I know." His stance tells me there's no damn way he believes that to be true.

But we all know the greatest threat is if he's in this house.

"Bring it," Polina says as she pulls out a gun.

"Who the fuck gave you that?" Ollie asks.

"You think only the men in this family carry weapons? Where have you been? Oh, right. Moscow. Paris. Colombia. Guess what, brother? While you were globe-trotting, Isabella trained us in self-defense, and Harper recently gave us shooting lessons."

I've heard that Harper is a master with guns, and I love that she's shown them how to use one.

I'm next, girls.

"You know how to use that?" Ollie asks. I cringe.

The sound of outrage from me, his sister, and his mother all at once makes him put up his hands like a little boy. "Okay, okay. I just want to leave with my balls intact, thank you."

"Say something like that again, and I will show you exactly how good I am at using this gun!" Polina says, glaring at him.

"Which part?" he says. "The part about using the gun or my balls being intact?"

"Yes," she says.

"Fine, so you know how to use a gun," he mutters. I'd think he was being a dick if I didn't know he was worried about us. "Mom?" he says.

"I'm not as good as Polina," she says. "But there's no one who can get me in a chokehold that I can't get out of." She smiles sweetly at him.

His eyes widen slightly. She's so badass.

Ollie turns to me. "Renata?"

"I've only just begun lessons, but Isabella tells me I'm a quick study," I say. Somehow, being around his mom and sister reminds me that we are part of something different, something bigger. I get one little glimpse of what it would be like to be truly one with this family.

"We need to lock everything down," Ollie says. "Aleks is going to check for biometric markers. I want a full sweep, inside and out."

He has a hurried conversation on his phone in Russian.

"Are they at the bunker?" Ekaterina asks quietly. Ollie gives her a short nod.

"Is he inside this house?" She doesn't ask how he got here, but if he's here. I see the fear in her eyes, in the way Polina clings to her, and I know this isn't the first time they've been in a position like this. The question hangs in the air, the unspoken terror we all feel is undeniable. If he's in this house, we're sitting ducks, and I fucking hate that.

Ollie speaks almost mechanically. "We're going to scan now. For now, everyone stays right in this room. No one goes anywhere alone."

"For how long?" Polina asks.

"As long as it takes," Ollie snaps.

"Relax, Ollie. I know the woman you love is here with us. We all know that. Guess who else knows that?"

He pinches his lips together and doesn't reply.

When Polina turns away from him, tears are shining in her eyes. Ekaterina wraps an arm around her, whispering something in her ear that sounds like Russian, but I can see the fear in her eyes too. It isn't just me anymore—it's all of us, making sure none of us become collateral damage in the twisted game between Carlos and the Romanovs.

A sudden crash outside the room makes me jump, but it's just Aleks returning from his sweep of the house. I have to remind myself to breathe.

"I don't see anything. I checked every room. There's no sign of forced entry and no sign of anybody here but us. If he's here, he's damn good at hiding."

"That's because he's not here," Viktor adds, his tone frustrated. "There's no indication that anyone is in this house. He said that just to scare us."

Ollie doesn't look relieved, as if he doesn't even believe them. His expression remains hard and unreadable. "I'm not convinced. I'm not taking any chances. We stay locked down until I'm certain," Ollie commands, his voice a low growl. He won't' be satisfied until he's torn apart every inch of this house, hunting for shadows.

"What will you do?" Polina asks.

"I've already checked and told you there's no evidence of anybody else in this house. He must be in The Cove. We know this."

"Get in touch with Toschi," Ollie says.

Who is that?

Will it always feel like I only see half of what's going on around me?

"I did," Ollie says. "He's in The Cove, but he hasn't revealed his location to anyone."

"Fine, then. Everyone stays here. We will find him."

"It's like finding a needle in a haystack," Aleks says, obviously frustrated. "Can't you see that?"

"What would you have me do?" Ollie explodes. "You know he's after Renata."

His brothers leave when they realize no one can talk sense to him.

Hours pass, each one feeling more interminable than the last. Polina and Ekaterina try to lighten the mood with small talk, but even they eventually fall silent. It seems pointless to force conversation when we're all here, tense, wondering what the next moment will bring.

Finally, Ollie gives in. "There's no evidence he's here," he says with palpable reluctance. "But I'm not taking any chances."

"Shocker," I mutter under my breath, making Polina smile, though it fades quickly as Ollie's eyes snap to mine. Even now, with all the uncertainty swirling around us—about who I am, who he is—there's a dangerous edge to his gaze that sends a shiver down my spine.

Oh, Ollie.

"Why don't you and Renata go back up to the guest-room," Ekaterina suggests gently. "I promise that Polina and I will stay right here in the house until you give us further instructions."

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding. I can only pity anyone foolish enough to confront him now. He's wound so tight he's like a spring just about to break.

"Fine." He exhales sharply. "Aleks?—"

"I'm constantly monitoring biometric feedback in the house," Aleks interjects, his tone clinical. "All of you need rest, food, and water."

Ollie hesitates, then reaches for my hand. I pretend not to see it, stepping ahead of him instead. I don't want to be petty, but I don't want to touch him right now.

I haven't come to terms with the fact that I love him—all of him. The darkness, the brutality, the cold, calculating killer. But how do you reconcile love with fear?

The thought of being alone with him now, facing the coldness in his eyes and the violence I know he's capable of, is too much.

I walk away. He lets me.

"Where are you going?" he demands in a harsh whisper.

"Where you tell me," I snap back, anger flaring. "Do I have any choice in the matter?"

"No, that's not up for discussion. You're staying with me."

"And if I don't want to?" I challenge, watching hurt briefly flicker in his eyes before it's replaced with anger. "Dammit, Renata. Can't you see I'm trying to keep you safe?" His voice lowers to a rough whisper, his frustration obvious. "Why can't you see that?"

"I can, but I'm under no illusion that I'm safe from you, Ollie." The words slip out before I can stop them, hanging in the air like a death knell. He recoils as if struck. Maybe I have finally struck a chord in him because for the first time ever I see pain in his eyes, buried beneath layers of anger and cold calculation.

"I don't want to stay here," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Not with you like this."

"Like what?" he asks, his voice a dangerous edge of darkness.

I don't answer.

We walk in silence, and I wonder if he's too far gone—too deeply entrenched in his role as the cold commander to ever turn back.

When we reach the room, he opens the door, steps inside, and yanks me in after him. He slams it shut and presses me against it, capturing my lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. My body betrays me, going boneless as I melt under the heat of his touch, and I hate myself for it.

He kisses me like today is the only day we have to live, like there's no promise of tomorrow. He kisses me as if he's begging for forgiveness for being who he is. He kisses me as if he loves me, and it shatters my heart in two.

"Just because we haven't found any fucking sign of Carlos doesn't mean we're safe," he murmurs against my lips, his voice strained.

"Will we ever be?" I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

"Of course we will," he says, but I hear the lie beneath the bravado even though I don't want to.

No, we'll never be safe. There will always be something threatening us. We'll always have to be on alert, and I hate it. I want to run. I want to get away from here. And if I didn't think that was the weakest possible response, I would have.

"Renata," he says, his tone softening, becoming tender again. I don't want him to be this way—it's so much harder to resist when he is like this.

Why do I even try to resist him?

I've spent my life protecting myself from vulnerability. I've had to. I would never have gotten this far if I didn't. I don't know how to manage this.

"Talk to me."

"I don't know, Ollie. I'm afraid. And it's not just Carlos."

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "I don't know a way forward. I don't know how to show you not to fear me." He shakes his head. "I can't fucking help who I am."

"I know!" I cry, my voice breaking. "Don't you understand that I know that? But I can't just wave a magic wand and become somebody else."

"Neither can I!" he snaps back.

It's a fair point, and I know it. I try to draw back, to lean into being an adult instead of a headstrong child. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

Finally, he blows out a breath. "Aleks said you all needed food, water, and rest."

"So do you ."

"I can't sleep, knowing he's out there, knowing he's coming after you!"

I shake my head. "You'll have to. What are you going to do—run on fumes for five days? Ten days? A month, whatever it takes?"

He groans, blowing out another breath in frustration. He walks over to a small refrigerator in the corner of the room that I hadn't noticed before. "We have emergency food reserves in here. Eat."

"Only if you do." If I have to adult, so does he.

He opens it, takes out a meal replacement bar and a bottle of water, and hands them to me, then gets one of each for himself. I'm no fool, so I eat the bar, even though it tastes like sweetened chalk, and I drink the entire bottle of water.

I walk to the bathroom and splash water on my face. I don't know how I can feel as if my insides have been stirred around with a spoon and baked, yet I still look totally fine. If anything, the scar on my face seems more pronounced than before, but that's probably because I need some sleep. The scar feels weirdly like a symbol of our broken relationship.

Ollie is talking on the phone in rapid Russian, probably going over whatever he and his brothers have found.

"How is Isabella? Any update on her?"

He looks at me. "She's all right," he says. "She's still there. She's asking for you."

"Me?"

He shakes his head. "She says there's something she needs to tell you, but she won't say what."

I frown. What would she need to tell me?

"So? Are we going there?" I ask, even though I know that's impossible. "How is she supposed to tell me what I need to know?"

"Of course not. You'll talk on the phone."

Right. If we're sitting ducks, it makes no sense to bring the pregnant one here.

I take the phone and answer the call. "Isabella? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Isabella replies, her voice steady but with a hint of weariness. "I had a scare, but nothing serious. Apparently, this can happen sometimes. Lucky me."

"Why are you bleeding? What happened?" I ask, anxiety tightening in my chest.

"They told me the cramping and bleeding are unrelated. Some women just have a heightened sensitivity, which can cause light or even heavy bleeding. They mentioned something about a pregnancy hemorrhage—it's where blood collects between the uterus or something. It sounds terrifying, but they assured me it often resolves on its own and doesn't harm the baby. As for the cramping, it's just dehydration. They gave me fluids through an IV, and I'll be able to come home soon."

Ollie watches me closely, with that intense expression he gets sometimes—his eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest. He's perched on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed, green eyes blazing with intensity.

"I'm so glad to hear that," I say, exhaling with relief. There are so few people I truly care about in this world and knowing at least one of them is safe brings me some measure of comfort. She needs to carry this pregnancy to term safely.

Isabella's tone shifts, becoming more serious. "We need to talk, Renata. And while I trust my husband and yours, what I need to tell you is highly confidential." Her voice lowers. "I sent an encrypted message to your phone. You need to step away from Ollie and listen to it. Do you understand?"

My heart beats faster, and my skin feels prickly. I swallow hard and nod, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "Where's Lev?" I ask, keeping my tone deliberately light.

"Oh, he stepped out to get me something to eat," she says sweetly. "Please confirm you heard what I said."

"I did. I'll be in touch. Thank you so much for letting me know."

I hang up the phone, my heart pounding. I hate lying—it feels wrong, but I need to find out what she sent me. What is this about?

"And?" Ollie's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"She just wanted to talk about, you know, girl stuff," I say, shaking my head. I force a yawn. "I'm exhausted. We were talking about things like hemorrhoids, bleeding, and periods. Do you really want the details?"

Ollie stares at me, unblinking, clearly unconvinced. He doesn't buy it for a second. How am I going to get my phone without him noticing?

I'll have to wait until he's in the shower, distracted, or maybe even awake in the middle of the night. I'll find a way.

My phone sits innocuously in my bag on the bedside table. If the message is encrypted, it means no one else can access it. That's a relief, at least.

On a whim, I decide to head into the bathroom. My headphones are in that bag too…

"I'm going to get ready for bed."

Ollie holds my gaze for a moment longer. "All right," he finally says, his voice a mix of suspicion and concern. "I'm coming with you."

Oh, sweet Jesus.

"Ollie, can't I even go to the bathroom alone?"

"Carlos could be in this house, Renata."

"And if he is, I'll scream for you, and you'll come to my rescue. Deal?"

"Fine," he grumbles, "but I'm standing right outside the door if you need me."

I know his concern is genuine, but it's damn near suffocating. And where would Carlos be ? Aleks already ran a complete security scan and can't find any evidence that someone else is in the house.

I think he's overreacting, as usual.

I grab my bag. He only gives me a curious look, which I ignore. I make a big deal of shutting the bathroom door and rolling my eyes, really just to distract him from what I'm about to do.

I run the water and pull out my toothbrush, making as much noise as I can to mask my real intentions. I unzip my bag, retrieve an earpiece, and slip it into my ear. My hands are shaking as I tap my phone screen. There it is—a text message from Isabella, waiting for me to open it. I press the play button, and the screen prompts me to use my thumbprint to unlock it.

"Everything all right in there?" Ollie's voice is laced with suspicion, even through the door.

"Yes," I reply, forcing a light tone. "My molars look excellent. No signs of tooth decay!" I hope he doesn't notice the slight tremor in my voice. "No villains in the shower, and I don't hear any ticking bombs," I add, hearing a low growl from the other side of the door that nearly makes me smile.

Isabella's voice comes through the earpiece, guarded and rapid.

"I have a man who works for me that has information about Carlos. He's learned that Carlos is working with La Sombra Roja. They've offered him a million dollars for your capture, believing you hold critical information that could either solidify their power or dismantle their operations entirely. They believe you know the Romanov family and the Carrera cartel's most sensitive secrets, including alliances and details of their financial operations—information that could help them dominate the Colombian underworld."

My pulse quickens as I process her words, but Isabella isn't finished.

Why doesn't she want Ollie to know this?

"However, there's more. This part will impact you greatly. You're supposed to inherit five-hundred million dollars when you turn twenty-five, from to your mother's family. La Sombra Roja wants to take you and your money to expand their empire."

My breath catches. This isn't just about family—it's about power. The stakes are far higher than I imagined. Of course, Carlos's vendetta wouldn't have pushed him this far alone.

"Carlos is using this as his ticket back to power. We need to bring him out of hiding now. The longer we wait, the more desperate he'll become. And this is why my message to you is private, Renata. Ollie will never let you use yourself as bait, but it's only way to draw Carlos out into the open. We know Carlos is nearby. Get away from Ollie. Use yourself as bait. Bring Ollie with you if you have to, but you must draw Carlos out of hiding."

There's a rush of static, and the recording ends. I stare at my phone, the water still running in the sink. My heart races as I shut off the faucet and shove the phone back into my bag.

I know what I have to do.