Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Lana

My heart”s doing this crazy dance, thumping against my ribs like it”s trying to break free. I”m on edge, waiting, the minutes stretching like hours. If I weren”t so damn pregnant, I swear I”d storm that warehouse myself. Perez is gonna pay, but not today. Today”s about getting Julia back, safe and sound.

Finally, there they are—my guys, coming into view, and one of them”s got Julia. My stomach knots up, a weird mix of relief and dread. She looks too still, too quiet. ”Is she unconscious?” I find myself muttering under my breath, praying she”s alright.

I don”t wait for an answer, just swing the car closer, ready for a quick getaway. I”m out and moving before they even reach me, my eyes scanning Julia”s face for any sign she”s okay. ”Is she alive?”

Luca”s right behind them. ”She”s fine,” he says, his voice firm, cutting through the panic. ”Now let”s go.”

Together, we gently ease Julia into the backseat, my hands more careful than they”ve ever been. I slide in beside her, my eyes never leaving her face, searching for that flicker of life. ”Hang in there, Jules,” I whisper, as much a plea to her as it is to myself.

Turning to Luca, expecting to see Grigori”s towering figure with us, I ask, ”Where”s Grigori?” My voice barely hides the panic starting to claw its way up my throat.

Luca”s face tightens, a shadow of concern passing over it. ”He... he was supposed to be right behind me.”

”What do you mean ”supposed to be”? You left him in there?”

Luca looks away for a moment, his jaw clenched. ”I thought he was following. He said he”d cover our exit.”

Anger boils over, but fear underpins it. ”Go get him, now!” I order, my voice cracking with the command.

Luca nods, and then he”s gone, disappearing back into the fray.

Alone with Julia in the back of the SUV, I shift my focus to her, trying to anchor myself in the present task. I fetch water, careful to moisten her parched lips with just a few drops, wary of any unseen injuries that might complicate things further.

Her hair”s a tangled mess, and as I gently brush it away from her face, the extent of her injuries becomes heartbreakingly clear. Cigarette burns, scars...

Tears blur my vision, and I can”t help but shake, a mix of rage and sorrow washing over me. ”I”ve got you, Jules,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to offer comfort I”m not sure I feel.

I force myself to look away, to glance outside into the growing twilight, the shadows of the warehouse district stretching like dark fingers across the cracked pavement.

What”s taking Luca so long?

The minutes drag on—each one an eternity—and there”s still no sign of Grigori or Luca. My hands clench into fists, and I take in sharp breaths, trying to stay calm for Julia”s sake. No use panicking now. Focus, Lana.

I should be doing something—anything—but I”m welded to this seat by fear and the burden growing inside me.

Then Julia starts to mumble something. I lean in closer, eager for any sign of coherency, any sign that she”s really with me and not lost in the dark corners of her mind where trauma likes to linger.

”Lana…” she murmurs, and my heart clenches at the name.

”Hey, Julia. I”m here, Jules.”

She struggles to open her eyes, the effort monumental. ”It... it wasn”t supposed to be like this,” she whispers, her voice cracking like a dry riverbed.

I take her hand, the skin cold and clammy, and squeeze gently. ”I know, Julia. I know.” The words are barely audible over the blood pounding in my ears.

“Roman… Roman didn’t…”

“He didn’t what Julia?”

Her lips part, another word teetering on the brink of being lost forever. “Roman…”

And then her eyes flutter closed, the effort too much for her battered body.

”Julia!” I give her shoulders a gentle shake. ”Stay with me!”

But she”s slipping away into unconsciousness again, leaving me with more questions than answers and a heart heavy with dread.

What had he done? Or what had he not done? I”m left chewing on the uncertainty, a bitter pill.

I grab the walkie-talkie from the dashboard and press it so hard the plastic creaks in protest. ”Any sign of Grigori?”

My voice is strangled, almost unrecognizable to my own ears.

No answer.

My finger trembles on the button, waiting, hoping for Luca”s voice to crackle through with news of Grigori. But hope is a thin thread fraying quickly in the hands of time.

I flinch as Julia stirs again next to me, her breaths shallow and uneasy. I want to comfort her, reassure her she”s safe now, but the lies get stuck in my throat. We”re far from safe. We”re mired in the thick of it all, and God only knows if we”ll come out clean on the other side.

I”m jolted from my tense wait by the cold, unmistakable press of a gun barrel against the side window. My heart slams against my ribs, a rush of adrenaline flooding my system. How did I miss the approach? Instinct screams to grab the gun stashed in the glove box, but another gun presses against the other side of the car, boxing me in. Trapped.

Then he steps into view, Perez, smug and confident as he saunters toward me, guns in his lackeys” hands ensuring I”m well and truly caught. A fierce desire surges within me to wipe that look off his face, to make him pay, consequences be damned. But the stakes aren”t just my life; there”s a life inside me, innocent, depending on my next move.

Perez motions with his gun, a lazy, dangerous gesture telling me to step out. I comply, stepping into the open, feeling the weight of multiple guns trained on me. My own men are outside now, weapons drawn, a silent standoff in the dim light. I throw them a look, a silent command to hold fire. This is my play to make, not theirs.

I need to buy time, need Luca, need Grigori. But more than that, I need to keep my baby safe.

”Let”s hear what you want,” I say.

Perez”s lips curl into a snide smile, the gleam in his eyes that of a cat toying with a cornered mouse. ”Lana, always so direct. I appreciate that about you.” He takes a step forward, his lackeys flanking him like impudent shadows.

I don”t move, don”t even blink, because any sign of weakness now could spell our end. ”What do you want, Perez?”

Perez”s approach is slow, deliberate, his every step measured to intimidate. ”Look at you, Lana, all by your lonesome,” he sneers, ”Where are your boytoys now? Hiding?”

I let his words roll off me, my reply sharp as shattered glass. I force a smirk, my eyes locked onto his. ”They”re exactly where they need to be.”

Perez chuckles, the sound grating against my already frayed nerves. ”You always had more guts than brains. Do you even grasp the situation you”re in, querida?” Perez taunts, waving his gun with a reckless bravado that makes my skin crawl. ”This isn”t a game. There”s no backup plan that saves you this time.”

And that”s the thing about the likes of him; they always assume you”re playing their game, by their rules. Perez is no different. He thinks he”s read all the plays, knows all the moves. But I”m not some damsel in distress waiting for a rescue. I”ve got my own set of rules, my own plays.” Is that right?”

Perez”s smirk widens, his eyes glinting with malice. ”You should”ve accepted my offer, Lana. Marry into my family. At least then, your baby would”ve had a father. Now? You”re just a dying woman standing in the way of progress.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air, but I stand unflinching, my response cold as the grave. ”If I die here, Perez, my last order will have been very clear. Your home address, your lovely wife and kids, and let”s not omit your mistress—they all become immediate targets.”

He laughs, a hollow sound that echoes mockingly around us. “You really believe those men are loyal to you? Ha! Please, they”re all just waiting for a chance to get what”s between your legs. And when you”re gone, I”ll just pay them off like I did with Roman.”

The mention of Roman is a knife to the gut, but I don”t let the pain show. I can feel the temperature drop, or maybe it”s my blood turning cold as steel within my veins. ”You think you know loyalty, Perez? Bought loyalty isn”t worth the paper your filthy money is printed on.”

“Are you done?” Perez”s confidence oozes from him as he steps closer, his words laced with a deadly finality. ”You”ve got one last chance, Lana. Take my deal or I”ll off you, your pal, and cut your baby out for your baby daddies to find on their doorstep.”

I”d rather die on my feet than live on my knees, especially before a man who wouldn”t recognize honor if it bit him in the ass. With every fiber of my being screaming in defiance, I lock eyes with Perez, the finality of the moment wrapping around us like a shroud. ”Go to hell,” I spit out.

Perez”s face contorts into a mask of rage, and he aims the gun directly at my head. I stand firm, my resolve as steadfast as ever. I close my eyes, not in fear, but in acceptance of whatever fate has in store. In this moment, I am untouchable—not because I”m invincible, but because I refuse to bow down to his threats.