Page 60 of The Last Hope

His lips press against my forehead as he whispers the words that should free me from this world of monsters—

But in reality, they wound me in a way nothing else ever has. Not even Antonio.

“Alright,Solnychko. Whatever you want.”

Chapter sixteen

Nikolai

It was almost ten in the morning when I entered the office, a draft of cool air hitting me as I noticed the balcony door open. Sasha was leaning against the railing, smoking.

“Is everything ready ?” I asked as I sat down behind the desk, where my brother’s laptop was already on.

“Yeah,” Sasha grunted as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him—then reopening and closing it again. I grimaced at his action, his OCD becoming uncontrollable whenever he was on edge. His dark tone and expression confirmed my thoughts. If there was one person in our family you didn’t want to anger, it was Sasha.

Not because he was the most violent—Roman held that title despite his excitable demeanor. Nor because he was the most vindictive—that honor belonged to Grigori, our old wolf of a brother. And certainly not because he was the most devious—that was a title I proudly claimed.

Sasha was dangerous because he was unpredictable. Even to us, who had grown up together. He struck where no one expected, and it hurt—badly, as I’d learned from childhood experiences.

But I had to admit, last night, I truly thought he was going to snap Sienna Floros’s neck, and I wasn’t sure I would have stopped him. They had almost escaped. If one of our men hadn’t spotted Sienna lurking near the east wall and alerted Sasha, they would have succeeded.

When Selina had walked in, looking more breathtaking than ever in the emerald dress I had chosen for her, I thought I wasseeing a mirage. Her dark hair contrasted beautifully with the fabric, making her deep green eyes even more striking.

But all of it shattered with that one small step she took backward.

I didn’t know what Sienna had said to her behind that screen, but she had managed to push Selina miles away from me.

And when Sasha had told me about Sienna’s escape plan—though I had no idea how he found out—I thought I might lose my mind. But I had to wait until nightfall to get my hands on Sienna’s accomplice. Sasha had taken it upon himself to handle the interrogation, probably breaking the guy’s nose given the force he had used when restraining him.

I glanced down at the screen as an incoming call popped up. Without hesitation, I answered, and Sasha moved to stand beside me.

Elif’s smiling face appeared, and the tension in my shoulders, built up since last night, eased slightly.

“Oh my god, what happened ?” she asked, her expression shifting to concern. Behind her, Grigori and Roman immediately appeared over the back of the couch where she was sitting.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Nothing important, we’re handling it—”

“Nikolaï and Sasha Ivanov, you are going to tell me right now what’s going on ! Are you hurt ? Are the kids okay ?!” she nearly shouted, leaning so close to the camera that her forehead almost filled the screen.

This woman, seriously.

Cursing under my breath, I quickly summarized the events of last night, keeping the details to a minimum.

A heavy silence followed.

“I hope you didn’t do anything stupid to those women,” Elif finally said, placing the tablet on the coffee table and leaning back into the couch. Grigori massaged her shoulders, his dark gaze fixed on us, while Roman sat down beside her.

Sasha scoffed, rolling his eyes. I simply shook my head, closing mine for a brief second. With the way Elif had raised us, that was never even a risk.

“Did you manage to get anything out of Sienna’s boyfriend ?” Roman asked, his usual playful tone returning as he looked at Sasha.

Sasha tensed, his jaw clenching. If Roman had been within arm’s reach, he’d be dead by now.

“No, he hasn’t said a word,” Sasha muttered through gritted teeth, knowing full well that he had personally interrogated the man. “But he’s definitely Korean. I’ll run a facial recognition search—someone with a scar like his can’t be that hard to track.”

“And what about you guys ?” I asked, shifting the conversation. “How did the meeting with the Italians go ?”

It was around 10 p.m. there—plenty of time for it to be over.

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