Page 29 of I (One) (War of Roses 3)

Chapter 10

Their reunion lasts for only a second before Mischa reluctantly stands and helps Anna to her feet.

“We need to move,” he warns. But one look at her trembling body and his jaw clenches.

I was so focused on myself, but I wasn’t the only one expending every ounce of strength I have. Her knees wobble, threatening to buckle any second. From her arms, the boy stares fearfully.

It’s a miracle we came this far.

“Carry her,” I tell Mischa. “I can take the baby—”

“No!” Anna hugs the boy to her, heedless of his plaintive cries. “I can keep moving. I can—”

“There’s no time. Here—give him to me.” Mischa reaches for the boy and Anna finally relinquishes him. Effortlessly, Mischa swings the child around, setting him on his back. “Grab my neck,” he commands, guiding the boy’s tiny hands into position. “But don’t you dare choke me.”

Before Anna can protest, she’s in his arms as well.

Meeting my gaze, Mischa inclines his head. “My men aren’t far, but we need to run. Do you understand, Rose?”

I nod, and then he’s gone at a lightning pace, picking through the underbrush with enviable grace. My lungs churn fire as I follow clumsily in his wake. There’s no space in my exhausted brain left for caution. I throw myself forward without tact, my arms flailing for balance.

I’m loud and bumbling, and worst of all…

I’m slowing him down.

The fact that he’s even in my line of sight at all betrays the lengths he’s gone through to keep pace with me, despite being encumbered as he is.

“You need to keep moving, Little Rose,” he taunts from up ahead, his breathing heavy. “Don’t you fucking dare slow down. Stay with me… Stay with me!”

“I’m…trying…” It’s a lie. Every last bit of energy I had has already been expended. Pure momentum drives me now. I’m losing speed, falling farther and farther behind. He’s merely a speck now, bobbing on the horizon.

Carried by the wind, his voice reaches me. “Don’t you dare give up. Move! Or do youwantto get captured?”

Bastard. I keep going, if only out of spite. Gradually, his distant shape grows larger. Am I hallucinating?

No…

He’s stopped.

Gasping, I scan our surroundings and realize why; we’ve finally reached a break in the woods. Up ahead, the trees give way to a narrow field marred by tire tracks.

“What now?” I croak to Mischa.

He pays me no mind. Stepping forward, he bellows over the landscape, “To me!”

As if on cue, several men rush forward to meet us from the underbrush. Their trademark fatigues reveal their identity: themafiya.

One of them grabs Anna while another races toward me. Seconds later, I find myself in a van, hurtling toward an unknown destination.

“Where are we?” I manage to croak.

“Heading east,” a man replies from the front seat. “We’ll be in Sergei’s territory soon.”

Three others crowd the enclosed space alongside me, including the driver, their faces stern and focused on the road. I don’t recognize a familiar figure among them—not even Vanya.

“Where is Mischa?” I ask, peering through the nearest window. Just behind this vehicle, I can make out the looming shape of another van.

Mischa, Anna, and the boy must be in another vehicle altogether.

Because otherwise…I’m alone.

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