Chapter 18 - Sofia
I pace the length of my room, my mind in constant turmoil. The guest room in Dima and Lara's mansion was supposed to be a try at freedom, yet why am I fighting for air?
My mind keeps circling back to Vladimir. His absence gnaws at me, an unexpected void I can't seem to fill. I thought being away from him would help me clear my thoughts, but how can it when it is he I think of at the turn of a thought?
I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. "Damn you, Zolotov," I mutter, my voice icy even to my own ears.
I halt by the window, staring out at the manicured gardens below. The perfectly trimmed hedges mock me with their order and control—completely unlike my life, which has spiraled into chaos since meeting Vladimir.
"Get it together, Sofia," I chide myself. "He's just a man. A frustrating, infuriating, oddly compelling man…"
I shake my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of his intense black eyes, how he smiled at me in bed, and how tender his touch was. And then, I think of how he betrayed me.
What I need to do instead is put my energy into something productive, like my mission. With Vladimir no longer an ally and a proven barrier, I now need to find a way to undertake it myself.
My stomach twists as I consider my options and realize that without Vladimir, I’m at a loss. I don’t have any of the resources he does, and I feel like I’m back at square one.
I could try to find a way to stay connected with the gang from here. "But if word gets back to my siblings…"
The thought of my brothers and sisters discovering my secret mission sends a chill down my spine. Their disappointment, their anger, their fear—it would be unbearable. I've always been the dutiful one, the one they could trust. To betray that image…
"No," I decide, my voice firm. "I can't risk it. Not yet."
I sink onto the edge of the bed, my usual poise deserting me as I bury my face in my hands. For a moment, I allow myself to feel the weight of it all—the mission, the lies, the unexpected complication of Vladimir Zolotov.
"Pull yourself together," I whisper fiercely. "You're Sofia Orlov. You don't need anyone's help."
But as I lift my head, catching sight of my reflection in the ornate mirror across the room, I can't quite banish the flicker of uncertainty in my eyes. For the first time in years, I feel truly alone.
Just then, a soft knock interrupts my spiraling thoughts. The door creaks open, and Lara's concerned face appears.
"Sofia? Are you alright?" she asks, stepping into the room.
I quickly compose myself, straightening my posture and smoothing my expression. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
Lara's eyes narrow, unconvinced. She approaches, sitting beside me on the bed. "You've been holed up in here for hours. Dima's worried."
I can't help but tense at the mention of Dima. "There's nothing to worry about," I say, my tone cooler than intended.
"Hey," Lara says softly, placing a hand on my arm. "I know my husband can be… persistent. But I promise I'll keep him from prying. Whatever's going on, you can tell us when you're ready. I’ve told him to leave you be for now."
Her kindness catches me off guard, and I feel my carefully constructed walls wavering. "Thank you," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
As Lara leaves, closing the door gently behind her, I'm left alone with my thoughts once more. They inevitably drift to Vladimir.
He's clearly lost interest in explaining, I think to myself firmly, pacing again. If he cared, he would have reached out by now. Chances are, he’s happy it’s ended the way it has. At least now, he’s succeeded in hindering my attempt to bring down the Crimson Crew.
The sting of betrayal twists in my chest, sharper than I'd like to admit. I'd let my guard down and allowed myself to see him as more than just a means to an end. How foolish.
***
The next morning, a sudden commotion in the hallway shatters my peace as I sip coffee and read the paper in the drawing room. The door bursts open, and my siblings flood into the room, Dima included, their faces a mix of concern and anger.
"Sofia!" Nikolai, my usually calm oldest brother, practically shouts. "What the hell is going on?"
I freeze, my heart racing. "What are you talking about?"
Natalia, ever the protective sister, steps forward, her brown eyes flashing. "Don't play dumb. We know you've left Vladimir’s house. What happened between you two?"
"I don't owe you an explanation," I snap. It's a defense mechanism, one I've perfected over the years.
Artyom, always the peacemaker, tries to intervene. "Sofi, we're just worried. You came here without any warning, and Dima is worried sick.”
I shoot Dima a glare. Dima shrugs, but the concern doesn’t leave his face.
“Did he do something?” Fedor growls. “Cause I’ll fuck him up, I swear.”
“Or are you having a lovers’ spat?” Natalia demands stubbornly, stepping in front of me with her arms crossed, staring up at me with an inquisitive gaze.
I open my mouth to retort, but Lara's voice cuts through the tension. "What's all this commotion about?"
She steps into the room, her presence immediately commanding attention. My siblings turn to her, words tumbling out in a chaotic rush.
"Sofia's hiding something—"
"We think she might be in trouble—"
"She won't tell us anything—"
Lara holds up a hand, silencing them. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Is that what all this fuss is about?"
She turns to me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sofia, Darling, did you not tell them about Dima having to cancel on your vacation?"
I blink, momentarily stunned by her quick thinking. "I… no, I just don’t want to involve anyone in my mess."
Lara tuts, shaking her head. "Well, you know your siblings. I'm sorry, Sofia. I know how you were looking forward to it all month."
My siblings deflate visibly, looking both relieved and embarrassed. Natalia is the first to speak. "A vacation? That's what all this secrecy has been about?"
I nod, latching onto Lara's lifeline. "Yes. I wanted it to be perfect. But you know how Dima is. Always choosing work."
Dima runs a hand through his hair, sheepishly glancing between his wife and me. "We feel like idiots now. Sorry, Sofi."
As they file out, muttering apologies, I catch Lara's eye. The gratitude I feel is overwhelming, and for once, I let it show on my face. She winks, a silent promise passing between us. In that moment, I realize I might have found an unexpected ally.
As the door closes behind my siblings, Lara gently takes my arm and guides me to sit on the edge of the couch. The silence between us is heavy, pregnant with unspoken questions. I fidget with the hem of my shirt under the weight of her concerned gaze.
"Sofia," Lara says softly, her voice warm and inviting. "What's really going on?"
I take a shaky breath, my walls crumbling. I need to tell someone, and from how non-judgmental and helpful Lara has been, she seems to be the safest bet. Besides, something tells me that if I come out with the truth that has been burdening me, she’ll be the last person to lock me in a room under the pretense of keeping me safe. "I… I don't know where to start."
"How about with Vladimir?" she suggests, and I flinch at the name.
"Vladimir," I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's… complicated."
Lara chuckles. "That's an understatement if I've ever heard one. But what happened between you two?"
I close my eyes, memories of our wedding flooding my mind. Little did I know he’d ever break through my barriers, only to betray me at last.
“Well, it started at a bar one night…” I begin the story of how I overheard the Crimson Crew speaking about bringing down the Orlovs.
As I recount my struggles and my mission to Lara, it’s like a dam has been broken, and all my pent-up emotions come flooding out. Lara listens intently, her expression a mix of shock and sympathy.
“So you were trying to protect your family by infiltrating the Crimson Crew?” she summarizes when I take a deep breath, nodding at her question.
“Yes,” I confirm, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders as I finally share my burden.
My hands tremble as I continue. "When he caught me one night after we got married with one of the guys from the Crew, he was furious. He couldn’t believe it! But in time, we came up with a plan, Vladimir and I, to infiltrate the Crimson Crew. But…" I trail off, the betrayal still raw.
"But what, Sofia?"
I look up at her, my green eyes swimming with confusion and hurt. "He knew. He knew all along who I was, what I was doing, even before we got married. And he played along like this is some brand-new discovery. And he never said a word. I just don’t understand why he’d lie about this, keep it to himself…"
Lara's eyes flash with anger, her jaw clenching as she processes my words. "That bastard," she mutters, shaking her head. "I can't believe Vlad would do this to you."
I watch her closely, surprised by the intensity of her reaction. "You're angry with him?"
"Of course I am," she says, her voice softening as she looks at me. "But… I also understand why he did it."
I raise an eyebrow, my voice cool. "Oh? Do enlighten me."
Lara sighs, running a hand through her hair. "Sofia, I've known my brother all his life. He's not the type to fall for someone easily, but when he does…" She trails off, her eyes meeting mine. "The way he looks at you, it's different. It's like you've awakened something in him."
I scoff, trying to ignore the way my heart quickens at her words. "That doesn't excuse his lies."
"No, it doesn't," Lara agrees. "But it might explain them. Vlad's protective to a fault. If he knew about your mission, he probably thought he was shielding you from danger."
I roll my eyes but can't quite suppress the warmth blooming in my chest. "I don't need his protection."
Lara's face softens with understanding. "Oh, Sofia."
"I thought I was in control," I say, my voice cracking. "I thought I was the one pulling the strings. But he… he's been ten steps ahead this whole time, and I don’t know what his endgame is here."
"And how does that make you feel?" Lara probes gently.
I laugh bitterly. "Angry. Confused. And… and something else I can't quite name. Betrayed, maybe?" I pause, struggling to find the words. "When he's not around, it's like there's this… void. And I hate it. I hate that I miss him. But I shouldn’t, especially when he’s against my family’s best interests."
Lara takes my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It sounds like you care for him despite everything."
I shake my head vehemently. "I can't. It's too dangerous."
"Sometimes," Lara says softly, "the heart doesn't care about danger."
I look at her, vulnerability etched across my face. "What am I supposed to do now?"
Lara smiles knowingly. "Listen to your heart, Sofia."
***
Hours later, I'm lying in bed, tossing and turning as Lara's words echo in my mind. The room is pitch black, the silence oppressive. I toss and turn, unable to shake the feeling of unease that's settled over me.
The room feels empty without Vlad.
Suddenly, a floorboard creaks. My body goes rigid, every nerve on high alert. I strain my ears, listening intently. There it is again—the unmistakable sound of a footstep. I’m about to sit up when suddenly, a large, calloused hand clamps over my mouth, and panic explodes through me. My eyes fly open, but in the darkness, I can't make out my attacker's face. My instincts kick in, and I lash out, my elbow connecting with something solid.
A grunt of pain, distinctly masculine, only fuels my determination. I thrash wildly, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My fingers claw at the hand covering my mouth, desperate to break free.
"Sofia, stop!" A familiar voice hisses urgently. "It's me. It's Vladimir."
I freeze, shock temporarily overriding my fear. Vladimir? Here? My mind races, trying to process this unexpected turn of events.
"I'm going to remove my hand," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. "But you have to promise to stay quiet. Can you do that?"
I nod, still too stunned to form words. As promised, he slowly withdraws his hand, and I gulp in air, my chest heaving.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand in a fierce whisper, my initial shock giving way to anger. "You can't just break into my room in the middle of the night!"
"I had no choice," Vladimir replies, his voice low and urgent.
My eyes are adjusting to the darkness now, and I can make out the outline of his broad shoulders and the intensity in his dark eyes. Despite my anger, I feel a traitorous flutter in my stomach.
"And this couldn't wait until morning?" I hiss, sitting up and pulling the blanket tighter around me.
"No," he says simply, his gaze never leaving mine. "Sofia, I know you're angry with me, and you have every right to be. But we really need to talk. Please come with me … "
Vladimir's jaw clenches, his eyes flickering with a mix of frustration and… is that desperation?
My mind whirls with possibilities. I want to pepper him with questions and demand answers, but something in his expression gives me pause.
"Fine," I say, my voice icy, and step out of bed. “But this better be good.”