“You didn’t bring this on yourself,” he says firmly. “And you don’t have to face it alone.”
Aleks’s hands wrap tightly around my wrists, grounding me in place as his voice cuts through the fog of panic in my mind.
“Listen to me.” His icy blue eyes lock onto mine. “This isn’t your fault. If anything, you’re the victim here. Do you hear me, Katya?”
“Then why can’t I breathe?” My voice cracks under the weight of my emotions.
A dull ache blooms in my chest as I glance at Aleks’s firm grip, but something beyond him catches my eye. There, near the bed, half-hidden under a scorched corner of the carpet, is something solid.
Without a word, I pull my wrists free from Aleks’s grasp and kneel down to get a better look. My trembling fingers reach for it, brushing soot and ash away until I pull it out.
“It’s a brick,” I murmur, holding it up. Something crinkles around it, and I realize there’s a piece of paper taped to its side.
Carefully, I peel the brittle paper off and flatten it in my hands. At first glance, there are no words, just a symbol—bold, crude, and unmistakable. My heart plummets as recognition sinks its claws into me.
“Aleks.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of my fear. “One of my attackers had a tattoo of this symbol.”
His expression sharpens immediately, eyes narrowing as he snatches the note from my hands. He turns it over, his gaze scanning every detail.
“I’ll call Igor,” he says, already reaching for his phone.
While he is talking, I stay kneeling on the floor, the brick still in my hands. I don’t even know why I’m holding it—maybe it’s a physical manifestation of the chaos swirling inside me. My breathing is shallow, my mind spinning.
This is never going to end. No matter how hard I try to carve out a normal life for Sofiya and me, the Bratva will always haunt us.
Aleks’s voice pulls me out of my spiral. “Let’s go downstairs.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket after snapping a picture of the note. His tone leaves no room for argument. “We’re done here.”
He’s right. There’s nothing more to uncover in this room, nothing more to learn by staring at the charred carpet or the broken windows. Still, as I follow him out, my legs feel like they’re made of lead. Each step feels harder than the last, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on my shoulders.
The kids are seated around the coffee table, immersed in a board game. Sofiya’s giggling, Damien’s scowling, and the sound of their voices feels like a small pocket of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world.
I slow my steps, deliberately replacing the panic in my expression with a smile. Whatever storm is raging inside me, I can’t let it reach them.
“Are you winning, Sofiya?”I tease, moving to sit down beside her.
She beams at me, her hands flying as she signs.“Damien cheats.”
“I do not!” Damien protests, his face scrunching in mock outrage. Aleks has taught him enough sign language over the past few weeks for him to understand what his sister is accusing him of.
“You’re terrible at lying.” I laugh, ruffling his hair.
The tension in my chest eases just a little as their laughter fills the room. For this moment, at least, I can pretend that everything is fine.
I glance over my shoulder at Aleks, who lingers in the doorway, his phone still in his hand. He nods at me once before stepping out, probably to call Igor again.
My gaze shifts back to the kids. Damien is busy trying to explain the rules of the game to Sofiya, who pretends not to understand just to mess with him. Their bond has only grown stronger over the past months, and seeing them like this—laughing, teasing, happy—it reminds me why I’m doing all of this.
I have no choice but to trust Igor. To trust that he’ll take care of us.
33
IGOR
“I’ve never been inside The Velvet Echo,” Ivan says with a hint of excitement. “Nik doesn’t let us mix with the Olenkos.”
“No surprise there,” I mutter. “The owner’s a snake.”
Konstantin doesn’t bother looking for a parking spot and instead stops in front of the club. It’s the middle of the day, not a lot of traffic passing through this seedy neighborhood.