Chapter 28

POLINA

My brothers.

Every single one of them, larger than life, furious, formidable, weapons drawn. Relief floods my veins as love and loyalty shake me to my core.

My brothers have come for me.

I know them.

My god, I know them. All of them. That’s Mikhail, the eldest, with his golden skin and light brown hair, his eyes little pools of red-hot fury as he points his weapon.

Aleksandr, tall and muscular with an expression of utter fury on his face. Lev, my younger brother, his gun trained in front of him as he pulls the trigger relentlessly, spitting fire and devastation. Ollie, his vivid green eyes as placid as a field of grass, totally in his element as he slides a knife out of his boot with ruthless efficiency, kneels, and slices the neck of a man who’s down.

Nikko, our fierce protector, his jaw set and weapon readied.

And Viktor. Huge. A human tank. Some of Soloto’s men try to flee at the sight of him, but Ollie and Lev suffer no escapes. Lev shoots, and Ollie finishes them off. My brothers have caged them in.

With a scream of rage, Semyon charges, tearing through the enemy ranks, his face a mask of cold fury. Rodion, ever the wild card, follows behind, dual pistols blazing. His manic grin sends shivers down my spine as he mows down the enemies in his path, seemingly taking great delight in the chaos and bloodshed. He’s wild and unpredictable but deadly accurate.

Rafail, ever calm and unperturbed, picks off stragglers with chilling efficiency. When I see a bloodied body rise and point his gun at him, I scream and pull the trigger. I hit him straight between the eyes.

“Good girl,” Rafail mutters before he pulls the trigger again. Each shot is deliberate, clean, with no room for error.

My breath catches as I watch my brothers— my brothers , my protectors, alongside the Kopolovs, absolutely decimate Soloto’s men.

“Gleb!” Rodion screams. “Don’t let him fucking get away!”

Semyon barrel-rolls into the crowd without hesitation as Zoya, little Zoya, plants her feet and covers him, gun raised. She screams before each shot but hits with deadly precision.

“Gleb,” Semyon snarls, launching to his feet and advancing with a deadly gleam in his eyes. “You’re not running away again. Take one more step, and I’ll shoot out your kneecaps.”

Gleb, the utter fool, decides to call his bluff. I scream when Semyon pulls the trigger, and Gleb’s left kneecap explodes. With a holler of pain, he falls. Yana, as athletic as a ballerina, soars through the air and reaches him first. She kneels beside him, a blade pressed to his neck and fists his hair.

“You son of a bitch. I hated you since the first time you tried to blackmail me when I was a kid.”

The look of shock on Rafail’s face tells me that’s news to him. If Gleb wasn’t dead before, he’s a dead man walking now.

Semyon steps forward, his voice low and dangerous. “Where’s Soloto?”

The human shield of my brothers surrounds them, menacing and unyielding.

They’re on a mission to decimate Soloto, and then—and then what?

Nikko has a gun trained on Rafail.

I open my mouth to protest but realize we need this information from Gleb. I choke on a sob.

“I-I don’t know,” Gleb stammers. “Please!”

Viktor towers over everyone, casting a shadow over the prone form of Gleb in Yana’s grip.

“You’re with him,” Viktor growls at Semyon, gun raised.

“No!” I scream. “Don’t shoot them! Please, no!”

Viktor swivels to me, his eyes wide. “Polina?”

Something in me breaks when I hear my brother call my name. I heave a sob, desperate and terrified. “It’s me,” I sniffle. “Please, Viktor. Don’t hurt them.”

Rafail steps forward, deliberately putting himself in the line of fire. He’s calm, determined, and fearless. “That’s my wife. Put your gun down. ”

As huge as he is, he’s nowhere near as big as Viktor, and still fearlessly faces him unarmed.

“Rafail!” I scream. “That’s my brother! Viktor, don’t shoot!”

Surprise flares in Rafail’s eyes. Mikhail curses softly behind me.

“His wife ?”

Viktor jerks his head at Semyon. “Interrogate him,” he growls. “Or I will.”

Gleb cowers and whimpers. “I don’t know where he is,” he sobs. “He’s gone, but I can find out where he is, I can!”

Rafail steps forward, his hands up in a gesture of surrender to my brothers. Viktor gives him a subtle nod, his eyes narrowed. “Go.” My heart pounds. It’s a temporary boon.

Rafail’s gaze sharpens, his presence darkening as he turns the full weight of his authority on Gleb. The shift in the air is palpable—predatory. Lethal. Gleb shrinks back, shaking under the force of Rafail’s ruthless stare, and it’s in that moment I fully understand. The man I thought I knew… the one I’ve fallen in love with, has been holding himself back all along. The softness I’ve seen, the restraint, was only evidence of his self-control.

Because now, before me? This is the real Rafail. A man whose eyes sear with promises of violence. My heart stutters as the reality hits me: this man will stop at nothing. There are no limits, no lines he won’t cross for the people he loves.

His voice is low and calm as raw power radiates from him. “We’ll find Soloto,” he says with deadly intent. “Popov’s man led us straight to him. Now, the truth from you.”

I shiver when he says with deadly calm, “You broke trust. You manipulated our family.” He spits on the ground. “You betrayed us all.”

Each syllable is a threat and a promise that he has no intention of stopping until he knows everything. If I ever had a sliver of doubt before, I don’t now—I’m hopelessly in love with a man who will stop at nothing to protect what’s his.

“The-the truth?” Gleb stutters, staring at Rafail in wide-eyed terror.

“The truth!” Rafail bellows. We all watch in stoic silence. “Tell us. Tell us in front of her brothers. Tell us how Anissa came to be here, how you manipulated all of us.”

Yana’s grip on his hair tightens.

I stare, my heart pounding, torn between the violence before me and the fear of whatever he’ll say, wrapped in undeniable relief that finally, finally , I’ll be able to clear some of the fog.

Zoya squeezes my hand. Rafail walks in front of me, facing my brothers head-on.

As my brothers close in, Rafail’s voice cuts through the silence. “I want answers. He’s mine. ”

Shit. Gleb is going to rue the day he was born. I shiver.

“I worked with Soloto,” Gleb confesses, his face a mask of terror. Between the Kopolovs and my brothers, he’s facing a firing squad from the depths of hell.

“When I saw the picture of Anissa, it triggered a memory.”

Yana shakes him. “You accessed the files before Rafail planned to marry.”

“Yes,” he admits. “She looked so familiar it was uncanny. So I investigated and knew that she looked almost identical to Polina Romanova.”

Mikhail and Rafail share a look. “We are all adopted,” Mikhail says, his jaw tight. “We’ll need to bring my mother into this conversation.”

Nikko lowers the gun trained on Rafail. I release a breath with a gasp. Zoya gently squeezes my hand, and the lump in my throat dissolves. Hot, fat tears silently roll down my cheeks.

Rafail nods before returning his attention to Gleb. “Go on.”

My mind, however, is reeling.

She looked almost identical to Polina Romanova.

We were all adopted.

Does that mean…? Anissa… somewhere out there, I have a sister ?

“When I heard Polina was coming to Moscow, I knew.”

“You,” Rafail snarls. “You were responsible for Anissa leaving, weren’t you?”

Gleb stares at him, the whites of his eyes bright in the dark night. His silence condemns him.

“It was your chance to bring the fire of hell from the cartel to both the Romanovs and the Kopolovs,” Semyon concludes, shaking his head. “You motherfucking son of a bitch .”

“Semyon,” Rafail says so low you can hardly hear him. A warning to keep his shit together. Semyon clamps his lips together, simmering.

Gleb doesn’t answer.

Rafail’s gaze hardens, his jaw taut as he turns to Mikhail. “We have family obligations, but make no mistake—this is not over.” His gaze shifts from Mikhail to Gleb, his eyes flashing in a way I know all too well. “Gleb will face swift punishment. And believe me, it will be as merciless as he deserves.”

Rafail’s gaze darkens as he turns to me, his expression cold and intense. Unreadable.

What does this mean for us?

We were never married.

He lied to me.

He took me as his own and had no right to.

Shifting his gaze to Mikhail, his voice is low and controlled. “You and I will discuss Polina.” His eyes lock onto mine again, but this time, they’re burning with pain and frustration but also a barely restrained fire. “I know I don’t have a claim on her,” he says, his voice tightening. “But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to let her go without a fight.”