Chapter 27

“ANISSA”

“No,” Irma says, shaking her head. “It can’t be. He did not!” She points an irate finger at Rafail, aimed like a dagger. Her voice shakes. “ You were the one who made us come here. You were the one who got us in this trouble to begin with, you and your stupid bride. Don’t you dare blame my son!”

My blood boils. How dare she? I grit my teeth, my fists clenching. No one insults my husband, not while I’m standing.

We all know what it means for Gleb. He’s a dead man walking.

“Keep her under control,” Rodion snaps to Eduard. “Unless we know otherwise, we’re assuming Gleb betrayed us and escaped.”

“No!” Irma shouts, starting toward Rafail. I know the look of a crazed woman about to lose her mind. “You’re a fool!” she snarls.

I’m still hobbling on my cast, but that doesn’t stop me from stepping between the two of them. “Stand down , he said.”

Irma’s eyes flash to me, irritation boiling. She surges forward, trying to shove me aside, but the moment her hand reaches out, my body moves without thought.

Instinct.

Training.

My body reacts before my mind does. I grab her wrist, pivot on my good foot, and twist her arm with just enough force to tip her off balance. I don’t want to hurt her… unless I have to. No one, no one , touches my husband. The thought sends a surge of something primal through me. Love. Fear. Fury.

Stumbling, her eyes widen as I step forward, forcing her retreat.

“Don’t,” I warn, my voice low. “You heard my husband. We’re wasting time. He betrayed us, and the longer we chat, the more danger we’re in.”

Zoya stares at me with something like awe in her features, and Yana flat-out grins.

Irma hesitates, thrown off. I may not remember everything, but my muscles know exactly how to disarm a threat, even before I do.

Yana speaks up. “The evidence is right in front of you. Look at the text. Not only did he leave with one of the guards, but he also set us up. He set all of us up.”

“I won’t believe it!” Irma says, but she doesn’t come at Rafail again.

Rafail’s icy gaze snaps to his uncle’s. “Get her out of here.” Eduard has the good sense to listen as Yana reads the texts out loud.

He’s onto her being the Romanova woman

Soloto is in the city

We have to move

Ice pulses through my veins. Zoya stares at me. “The Romanova woman?” she asks, shaking her head. “Who?”

I look to Rafail. I don’t know how to tell them this. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know who to believe.

For once, I’m thankful Rafail is so decisive. “We’ll tell you more when we know more.” He turns to Semyon. “You were the one who led me to the city.”

Semyon runs a hand through his damp hair as he shakes his head. “I ran the files. I checked her location. I matched her pictures to the ones we were given and confirmed it was her.”

Rafail clenches his jaw. “How? Gleb’s texts reveal that he knew Anissa’s identity.”

Yana’s sitting on a sofa, her phone in hand. “I think I know how.”

“Brother, with all due respect—” Rodion interrupts.

Rafail yanks his gaze to his. Rodion swallows but continues.

“If Gleb and the Popov guard know our location and they’re working with Soloto, we need to move. We aren’t safe here.”

Rafail curses under his breath and grits his teeth.

Semyon interjects. “It might be too late,” he says, shaking his head. “If they’re in the city, we don’t have time to retreat. We’ll have to arm ourselves.”

“No.” Rafail shakes his head. “We aren’t safe here, but we aren’t safe if we leave. We need to arm ourselves and come up with a plan.”

Grandfather raises a hand, his worn, wrinkled face placid, but his eyes narrowed in concern. “Rafail?”

Rafail looks to him. Grandfather holds a tablet in his hand and flicks it on. “Popov left the specifications for all exits and points of retreat in the event of an attack. I studied them while I was in the kitchen before dinner.” He shrugs. “Keeps an old man busy.”

He turns the tablet around and points to a few marked places on a map of the network of rooms. “There are secondary exits. We have two choices, then. We could create a diversion if they attack and exit the main door, or we can use a secondary exit.” He frowns. “That said, the rooms are impenetrable. Once someone enters them, and they double lock the door from the inside, nothing can get in—not smoke or gunfire, even a flood.”

Rafail nods. I can almost see his mind whirring as he snaps into commander mode, humble enough to take advice from his family but confident enough to decide what to do. “The larger our party as we exit, the more vulnerable we become. Matvei, you’ll stay with your parents.” He shakes his head. “It will calm them and make you less of a target if we encounter Gleb.”

Matvei scowls but nods. No one has a choice but to obey. He continues.

“Grandfather, I want you here as well. I promise we’ll come for you as soon as possible.”

Grandfather nods and hands the tablet to Rafail. “I trust you,” is all he says, but I swear Rafail stands taller.

“Zoya and Yana—” he begins.

“We’re coming with you,” Yana says, staring Rafail down. “We are not staying behind.”

“No fucking way.” Fury simmers in Rafail’s eyes. “I will not allow my sisters?—”

“You promised!” Zoya’s little voice wavers, and when Rafail’s fiery gaze comes to her, she blanches, but she keeps her eyes trained on him. “When Mom and Dad died, you said one family, one fight—never apart. I-I won’t go. I’m with Yana. We go with you.”

He clenches his fists and growls, but I place a hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear, “I am trained, Rafail. I can protect them. We all can.”

“They’re trained too,” he whispers back. “You think I only made them learn how to cook?”

Pride surges in my chest. “Then let’s arm ourselves. We have no time to waste. I know you’re afraid of what you can lose, but… we’re stronger together. All of us. A chain-link fence is stronger the more links you add.”

“Fine,” he grits out. I don’t miss the way little Zoya does a tiny fist pump. “Our family comes. All of us. The rest of you, in the rooms, now. Once you lock those doors, you do not open for anyone. ”

Everyone runs to obey.

He looks down at my leg. “Don’t even think about it, Rafail.”

His dark brows snap together, and he growls, “Think about what?”

“Leaving me behind. Just because I have this stupid cast doesn’t mean?—”

“Leave you behind? Hell no. I was trying to decide if I should put you on my back or carry you out of here.”

Something melts a little in my chest, but there’s no time to dwell.

“Oooh, yeah,” Rodion says with utter glee. “Come to Papa, baby.” We turn to find him standing in front of a panel concealed behind a hinged painting on the wall.

“How did you find that?” Yana asks, advancing toward him.

“Easy,” Rodion says with a snort. “Look at this place. Does Popov look like the Water Lilies type? Hell no. It had to be hiding something. Locked as fuck, but those don’t hold me back.”

“Good to know,” Rafail mutters. “I’ll hand them out. Touch them, and I’ll fucking break your hand.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get violent,” Rodion says, raising his hands in surrender.

“There’s absolutely a need to get violent,” Rafail snaps as he assesses the weapons we have. “Here.” With the precision of a lieutenant and with absolute efficiency, he distributes weapons.

I look at the gun in my hand and grin to myself. It’s no Desert Eagle, but it’s gorgeous… a Wilson Combat X-TAC Elite 1911 Compact. I don’t know where he got this, but I’m definitely keeping it.

“I’m gonna owe Popov my fucking life for?—”

A faint hiss interrupts him. My head snaps up, my eyes catching the small, round canisters rolling on the floor, spewing thick smoke into the room.

In seconds, the air turns dense and choking.

“They’re smoking us out,” Rafail snarls. “All of you, do what I tell you. Move!”

He grabs my arm and reaches for the hidden compartment in the wall, pulling out masks and thrusting them at us. “Put them on and follow me. We have to evacuate. The rest of them are safe in their rooms.”

I cough, trying to suck in clean air before I slide the mask on. Rafail’s eyes are narrowed as he quickly scans the tablet Grandfather gave him, every muscle in his body as tense as a bowstring, ready to snap.

It’s hard to breathe in this thing, but I have to stay calm.

“Stay low and stay close,” Rafail says with a harsh cough.

I tug on his mask and gesture wildly for him to put his on. He nods and motions for everyone to follow him as he puts his on.

An explosion makes the walls around us tremble, followed by the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

We’re running out of time.

I blink, my eyes burning from the smoke, when Rafail yanks open a hidden panel in the floor. There it is. A trapdoor.

Rodion leads the way. Semyon takes Yana’s hand, I take Zoya’s, and Rafail stands sentry at the back.

Even though Rafail can’t talk, his gestures are unmistakable as he stabs a finger in the direction ahead. He shoves me in before sliding in behind us. We crawl quickly. The door leads to a tunnel barely wide enough for Rafail. Smoke follows us, but it’s lighter and less dense the further we go.

We exit into a narrow passage behind the house, a set of steep, brick stairs ahead of us. Here, the air is clear and cold, a welcome relief.

We rip off our masks, gasping for fresh air. Rafail’s voice is steady, unwavering, a lifeline in the chaos. “When we get to the top of those stairs, there’s no telling what we’ll find.” He pauses, his dark eyes meeting each of ours. “But we’ll face it together. All of us.”

My heart beats madly. I turn to Rafail. “And if there’s no way out?—”

His eyes meet mine. “We’ll make one.”

We both hold each other’s gaze.

We aren’t just talking about an escape route.

If there’s no way out… we’ll make one.

The screech of tires warns us that we won’t be alone for long.

Soloto’s here.

He knows where the safe house is.

I remember now with vivid clarity why I came to Moscow. Why Mikhail sent me. I balked at him and protested, but my god, he was right—Soloto’s merciless and he’s come. Behind us, the smoke is getting thicker.

“We have to go,” Rodion says, fearless and brave. “Move!” I swallow the fear rising in my throat. Now isn’t the time for doubt or second-guessing. Now’s the time for survival. I’m ready to fight.

He takes the steps two at a time. Rafail opens his mouth as if to protest, then closes it and shakes his head. It’s time. Time for Rodion to earn his spurs.

“Go,” Rafail says, his voice hoarse. “Follow him.”

We quickly climb in single file, Semyon at the lead. One by one, we emerge onto a dark, vacant street. I have no idea where we are.

The sound of approaching tires comes closer and closer. We stand shoulder to shoulder, ready for whatever comes, when the night explodes.

Oh god. Black-clad figures move with deadly precision. “Get cover!” Rafail urges. “Behind the cars.”

I move as quickly as I can.

We’re surrounded though. There are easily twenty in their number, armed and ready. They shoot, gunshots pinging off the cars. We hold them off. I manage to get one straight behind the eyes, and Semyon’s a veritable cherry picker, taking each of them one at a time.

They keep coming.

“Fucking bulletproof vests,” Rodion snarls. “Keep going. Zoya?”

It’s then that I notice Zoya’s fisting hand grenades. She tosses one to Rodion, who pulls out a pin, rears back, and whips it as far as he can ahead of us. The explosion is deafening. Bodies fall to the ground in a torrent of smoke.

And still they come.

My heart sinks. We can’t do it. We don’t have the sheer manpower to help.

“Fuck this,” Rafail says. “I’ll create a diversion. Run. ”

He stands, his gun shooting fire as he pulls the trigger in rapid succession.

But no. I won’t leave him. I can’t. Not now, not ever.

The sound of a heavy car approaching comes again. Oh god. Oh no. We can’t survive another attack—we won’t. If they bring more people in?—

A huge, armored vehicle screeches to a halt, the doors swinging open. My heart clenches, instinct kicking in before I see them, hope battling with fear rising in my chest.

They’re here.