Page 28 of Tattooed Heart

“Let her continue the investigation,” Lev explains. “But from the safety of the estate. Research. Phone calls. No more undercover operations. No more putting herself in the line of fire.”

The baby kicks hard as if voting in favor of Lev's proposal. I place a hand over my stomach, feeling the small life that depends on me making the right choice.

“I can't just sit around reading files,” I argue, though with less heat than before. “Not when Dimitri?—”

“Dimitri would want you alive,” Aleksandr cuts in. “He'd want his child alive. And if you truly want to help him, then you'll focus your considerable talents on work that doesn't involve putting yourself in Morozov's crosshairs.”

I look between Aleksandr and Lev, then to Peter, who has remained tactfully silent during our exchange. The attorney's expression is neutral, but his eyes hold a warning I can’t ignore.

“On one condition,” I concede. “You keep me in the loop. Everything you find, everything you do, I want to know about it. No secrets.”

Aleksandr studies me. Then, surprisingly, he nods. “Agreed. But in return, you stay within the estate grounds. No more sneaking out. No more solo missions.”

The terms feel like a prison sentence, but I know it is the best offer I'll get. And deep down, I know he is right.

“Fine,” I agree, extending my hand formally. “I'll stop putting myself in dangerous situations. But I won't stop fighting for him.”

Aleksandr takes my hand, his grip firm but not crushing. “I'd expect nothing less,” he states. I think I see something like admiration flash in his eyes, hidden beneath layers of frustration and concern. “Now get some rest. You look like hell.”

Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me. “Thanks for the compliment.”

As I turn to leave, Peter calls out, “Sandy?”

I pause at the door, looking back at him.

“What you did tonight,” he says carefully, “was incredibly brave. And incredibly foolish. But it may have just given us the break we needed.”

The words settle over me like a balm, easing some of the ache that has been my constant companion since Dimitri's arrest. I nod once, too overwhelmed to speak and slip out of the office.

The hallway stretches before me, grand and empty. My legs feel like lead as I trudge toward the stairs, the adrenaline that had carried me through the night finally draining away. Every step is an effort, every breath a reminder of how much I risked. And how much I gained.

Halfway up the staircase, I hear footsteps behind me. Talia stands at the bottom, her silk robe drawn tightly around her, her eyes wide with worry and relief.

“I heard you come in,” she says softly. “Aleksandr told me what you did.”

I brace for another lecture, too tired to defend my actions again. But instead, she climbs the stairs in silence, stops at my side, and pulls me into a fierce, unexpected hug.

“You're the most stubborn, reckless person I've ever known,” she says, but her voice holds no anger, only a tired acceptance. “And I've never been more proud to call you my sister.”

Tears prick behind my eyes, hot and sudden. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words until they were spoken. “I had to try,” I whisper.

“I know.” She hugs me tighter. “Come on. Let's get you cleaned up and into bed. You look like crap,” she added, her voice softer than her words.

“I feel like it, too,” I admit as we continue up the stairs. “But it was worth it. We're closer now. I can feel it.”

Behind the closed door of my room, I peel away the mask I’d painted on. The heavy foundation and dramatic eye makeup disappear under gentle strokes of a makeup wipe, revealing the woman beneath. Tired, determined, and more terrified than I want anyone to know.

As I slip under the covers, my hand reaches my stomach again, cradling the bump that grows more pronounced each day.

“We're getting closer,” I whisper to our child. “Daddy's coming home soon. I promise.”

I close my eyes, letting exhaustion claim me at last, dreaming of Dimitri's arms around me and of our family whole again.

Morning comes too soon, sunlight streams through the curtains I forgot to close. I blink awake, momentarily disoriented by the softness of the sheets and the stillness of the room. For a blissful second, I forget everything. The arrest, prison, the desperate fight for justice. For just one heartbeat, I expect to roll over and find Dimitri beside me, his face peaceful in sleep, his arm instinctively reaching for me.

Reality crashes back with brutal clarity. The empty space beside me. The silence where his breathing should be. The cold sheets where his warmth belongs.

I push myself up, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. My disguise from the night before lay abandoned on a chair, a stranger's clothes still holding the stale scent of cigarettes and cheap whiskey from the bar. Evidence of what I did and the risks I took.

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