Page 80 of Blood Oath Christmas
The gravel crunches softly under my boots as I make my way toward the main road where I arranged to meet Agent Cole. I'd created a new email account this afternoon while Konstantin was locked away in his study with Viktor and the others, planning whatever dark business consumes their days. The irony isn't lost on me that I used his own meetings as cover for my escape.
My purse feels impossibly heavy against my shoulder, weighed down by more than just my usual belongings. A thumb drive burns like a brand against my palm as I reach inside and wrap my fingers around it. Such a small thing to hold so much power. Agent Cole assured me this contains everything the FBI needs to put Konstantin away for life.
Evidence that will destroy the man I love.
The thought stops me in my tracks, and I have to grip a nearby tree for support. Love. When did his rare smiles become more precious to me than anything else in the world?
I think of how gentle his hands were this morning when he thought I was still asleep, the way his fingers traced patterns on my bare shoulder. How his green eyes soften when he looks at me, as if I'm something precious he's afraid to break. The way he holds me at night, protective even in sleep.
But then I remember the blood on his hands. The cold calculation in his voice when he ordered punishment. The way men twice his size cower in his presence. This is the world my child would inherit—violence, and fear, and death lurking around every corner.
A sob catches in my throat as I force myself to keep walking. I'm doing this for the baby. For the innocent life that deserves a chance at normalcy, at safety. Even if it means destroying the only man who's ever made me feel truly alive.
The main road comes into view, empty except for the occasional car passing by. I check my phone. Agent Cole should be here any minute. My hands shake as I scroll through our brief email exchange, her assurances that she can get me into Witness Protection, that I'll be safe once Konstantin is behind bars.
But will I ever really be safe? The Bratva's reach extends far beyond prison walls. And what about the other families? Ivan Bocharov, who still expects Konstantin to marry his daughter. Vadim Antonov, whose hatred for the Mikhailovs runs deeperthan blood. They won't simply forget about me once Konstantin is gone.
Especially if they find out I’m carrying his heir.
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed on the empty road. The darkness that seemed like protection now feels ominous, full of unseen threats. Every shadow could hide an enemy. Every sound could signal danger.
The baby. I have to think about the baby.
My free hand moves to my stomach again, and I close my eyes, trying to imagine a different life. A small apartment somewhere far from here. Teaching elementary school like I always planned. Raising my child in peace, away from the violence that seems to follow the Mikhailov name like a curse.
But even as I picture this fantasy, Konstantin's face intrudes. The way he looks at me with such tenderness in his expression that it takes my breath away. The careful way he touches me, as if I might disappear. The fierce protectiveness that radiates from him whenever he thinks I'm in danger.
He loves me. I know he does, even if he's never said the words. It's in every gesture, every glance, every moment of vulnerability he allows me to see. And I'm about to destroy him.
Headlights appear in the distance, growing brighter as they approach. My pulse quickens—this must be Agent Cole. I step closer to the road, the thumb drive clutched so tightly in my fist that the edges bite into my palm.
The car slows as it nears me, and I raise my hand in a small wave. But as it pulls to a stop beside me, my blood turns to ice. This isn't the nondescript sedan Agent Cole described. This is a sleek black Mercedes, the kind of car that screams money and power.
The kind of car the Bratva drives.
My legs feel like lead as the driver's door opens. I should run. Every instinct screams at me to flee back toward Konstantin'sestate, back to the safety of his protection. But I'm frozen, watching in horror as a tall figure emerges from the vehicle.
Vadim Antonov steps into the pool of light cast by the streetlamp, his scarred face twisted into a cold smile. The slash through his right eyebrow looks even more sinister in the harsh light, and his pale blue eyes glitter with malicious satisfaction.
"Well, well," he says, his accented voice carrying easily across the quiet night. "What do we have here? Little Ivy Mikhailova, all alone on a dark road."
My hand instinctively moves to protect my stomach as terror floods through me. Not just for myself now, but for the precious life growing inside me. Konstantin's child. Our child.
I'd rather die than let anything happen to this baby.
44
KONSTANTIN
The silence in my estate feels like a death shroud, suffocating and absolute. I've torn through every room, every closet, every goddamn corner where Ivy might be hiding, but she's nowhere. She’s just disappeared.
A lump forms in my throat. She didn’t just disappear. She’s left me. Again!
"Pakhan." Viktor's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts as he enters the kitchen, his face grim. "We found something."
My blood turns to ice. "What?"
"About half a mile from the north gate. Signs of a struggle."
