Page 52 of Tattooed Heart

Talia studies my face. “The baby.”

I nod, running my hand over my stomach again protectively. “How do you do it? How do you live with this constant threat hanging over everything you love?”

My sister leans back slightly, considering her answer. The rain outside has intensified, the wind driving it against the glass in rhythmic bursts.

“You adapt,” she answers honestly. “You learn to see danger before it arrives. You build a wall around your heart, but you make sure there's a door for the people who matter. And most importantly—” she squeezes my hand “—you remember that you're not alone in this fight.”

The thought comforts me, but only slightly. “Dimitri wants me locked away here until it's over. Protected like some treasure in a vault.”

“And what do you want?”

What do I want?Safety, obviously. For myself, for our child, for Dimitri. But something else is growing inside me alongside the baby that burns brighter than fear.

“I want to rip out Morozov’s heart,” I reply. “And I want to know what I’m facing. No sugar-coating, no protective half-truths.”

Talia nods slowly. “Then come with me. Aleksandr is in his office going through the information from Petrov. You should hear it directly.”

I stand without hesitation. “Lead the way.”

We move down the grand corridor of the mansion, our footsteps muted by the thick, handwoven carpet stretching beneath our feet like a velvet river. Even after all these months, the sheer opulence of the place sometimes makes me pause.

Talia stops outside the heavy oak door and knocks twice, echoing like a summons. Aleksandr’s voice comes from within, cool and commanding.

“Enter.”

As we step inside, he looks up from behind his desk, his icy gaze settling on me.

“Sandy,” he greets, nodding once as we take the seats across from him.

“I want to know everything,” I demand before he can continue. “About Morozov and his threats.”

Aleksandr exchanges a look with Talia. She nods subtly.

“Dimitri did not want to worry you with details,” he begins.

“I'm already worried,” I counter. “Knowing less doesn't make me safer. It makes me vulnerable.”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You remind me of Talia when she first insisted on being included in family matters. Very well.”

He pulls a folder from the pile and opens it, revealing photographs and typed pages of information.

“Morozov has hired a doctor who is willing to administer something that would cause a miscarriage. It would look like a natural complication, nothing suspicious.”

The clinical way he describes it makes my skin crawl. This isn’t just a business rivalry or territorial dispute. This is deeply personal, targeted at the most vulnerable part of me.

“Where is this doctor now?” I ask, surprised by how calm my voice is despite the fury building in my core.

“Being tracked,” Aleksandr replies. “Dimitri and four of our most trusted men are closing in on him as we speak. Once they have him, he will lead us to Morozov.”

“And then?”

Aleksandr's expression hardens. “Then Morozov will learn why the Avilov family has survived for generations while others have fallen.”

Thunder rumbles outside as if nature is responding to the tension in the room. I think of Dimitri, hunting down the people who threatened our future. I always knew who he was and what his family was like, but until this moment, I never fully grasped what that meant for me.

“I want to be prepared,” I say firmly. “If someone comes for me, I need to be able to defend myself.”

Talia places her hand on my arm. “Are you sure? Once you cross certain lines...”

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