Page 51 of Tattooed Vow

“Morozov made his move,” I seethe, not bothering to soften the blow. Sandy had earned the truth. “He's killed people close to us. Left them as a warning.”

Her face pales, but she doesn’t flinch. “Who?”

“Two of our men, Eduard and Petrov…and Petrov’s wife.” I watch her process it and see the moment she understands the implications. Morozov won’t stop at those who had chosen this life. He will target anyone connected to us.

“What do we do?” she asks, and I marvel again at her resilience.

“We're leaving,” I state, moving past her to gather our belongings. “Aleksandr is sending a team to meet us. We're going back to the estate.”

“Back to the city?” Her voice rises in disbelief.

“Exactly,” I reply, stuffing her clothes into the duffel bag. “They're turning the entire Eastern Seaboard upside down looking for us. Every day we hide, more people die. It's time to stop running.”

“That's insane, Dimitri!” Sandy moves to block my path, her hands on her hips, fire in her eyes. “We'll be walking straight into his hands!”

I gently move her aside, continuing the preparations. “No one expects us to return to the city. It’s the last thing Morozov will expect.”

“For good reason!”

“He won't stop,” I say firmly, facing her. “He can't stop. Not until he exacts his revenge.”

Her face is now flushed with anger.

“The longer we hide, the more desperate he becomes,” I continue. “The more people he'll hurt trying to find us. We need to end this.”

“By offering ourselves up like sacrificial lambs?” She shakes her head vehemently. “There has to be another way. What about the FBI? Witness protection?”

“That’s not how the Bratva operates,” I say, my voice even. “We follow a different code. Cops, FBI…they won’t stop a man like him. He won’t back down—he’ll keep coming until one of us is dead.”

Sandy's shoulders slump slightly, but her eyes remain defiant. “So, we just march back into the city and hope for the best?”

“No,” I answer, approaching her slowly. “We go back on our terms, with our allies and a plan. The mansion is a fortress. Aleksandr's territory. We'll have protection while we figure out our next move.”

“Our next move being what? Taking down Morozov and his criminal empire?”

I can’t help the small smile that curves my lips. “Something like that.”

She studies my face for a long time. Whatever she finds makes her sigh in resignation. “You've already decided.”

“Yes.”

“And nothing I say will change your mind?”

“This isn't just about us anymore,” I say softly. “Innocent people are dying. I can't have that on my conscience.”

“I know,” she whispers, touching my chest. “But I'm scared, Dimitri. Not just for me, but for you.”

I cover her hand with mine, then gently pull it away.

“We have to pack and clear this place,” I state, stepping back.

Sandy nods, visibly collecting herself. “Okay. I'll be ready.”

As she turns to gather her things, I allow myself one more moment of weakness. I watch her walk away, committing to memory the way the morning light catches in her hair and the determined set of her shoulders.

If things go wrong in the coming days, I want to remember her like this—fierce and alive, not broken by the violence of my world. The gravity of my decision pulls at me, but I know it’s right. We can’t hide forever. Sooner or later, everyone stops running and turns to face their pursuers.

For us, that time is now.

---