20. Erik
ERIK
M y boots hit the marble floor of Natasha Blackwood's building with purpose, Alexi just ahead of me.
The text from Dmitri had been brief but urgent.
"Tash taken. Meet at her apartment. Now.
" Dmitri had only recently gone public with his relationship to the art historian, something he rarely does, and now Igor Lebedev had seized the opportunity to strike back at our family where it would hurt most.
I'd left Katarina with Viktor, ignoring the questions in her eyes. Better she doesn't know what's happening. Better she stays in the safety of the compound while I handle this.
The elevator ride to the penthouse feels endless. Alexi's fingers drum against his thigh; his usual playful demeanor has been replaced by focused intensity. We both know what this means—not just for Natasha, but for all of us. For Katarina.
The doors slide open to reveal a chaotic scene. Security personnel move with purpose through Natasha's elegant apartment, collecting evidence and checking for surveillance devices. Nikolai stands by the window, phone pressed to his ear, his face carved from stone.
And Dmitri—my always composed, always perfect brother—paces like a caged animal, his hair disheveled, his custom suit wrinkled. I've never seen him like this. Not since we were children. Not since mother.
I watch him, struck by the transformation.
Natasha Blackwood had done what no woman before her could—penetrated my brother's carefully constructed walls.
For weeks, I'd witnessed the change in him.
The way his eyes softened when he mentioned her name.
How he'd check his phone more frequently, lips curving into that rare genuine smile when she texted.
The sharp-tongued museum curator with her vintage Chanel and unflinching honesty had somehow captured Dmitri's attention, then his interest, and finally something I never thought he possessed—his heart.
“Katarina's secure. What do you need?” I ask.
Standing in the doorway, I watch as Dmitri struggles to maintain his composure. My usually immaculate brother looks disheveled, his perfect appearance cracking under the weight of what's happened. I've rarely seen him this undone, and it sends a chill through me.
As he speaks about Natasha, I see the raw fear in his eyes. This isn't the calculating businessman I know—this is a man terrified of losing something precious. Something he loves.
I listen as plans form around me, but my mind keeps drifting to Katarina. To her face when I left her in the secure room, to the way she trusted me during the security breach. To how right she felt in my arms.
Dmitri's voice breaks through my thoughts as he makes his admission.
“I can't lose her.” The words tear from his chest with painful honesty. “Nikolai, I—” His carefully constructed walls crumble as the truth hits him. “I love her.”
The word strikes me like a physical blow. Love. Such a dangerous concept in our world. I think of Katarina—her strength, her brilliance, the way she challenges me. The way something in my chest tightens when she smiles.
Is that what this is? This constant awareness, this need to protect, this ache when we're apart?
My brothers exchange looks, but neither mock Dmitri's moment of vulnerability. They understand what it means for a man like him to admit such weakness.
“We'll find her,” Nikolai says firmly. “Whatever it takes.”
I watch as Dmitri runs his hand through his hair, a rare display of agitation that reveals how deeply Natasha has affected him.
“There might be only one way to end this quickly.” His words land like lead in my stomach even before he continues. “A trade. Katarina for Natasha.”
My body goes rigid at the suggestion. Trade Katarina? Return her to her father? The thought sends possession urging through my veins. She's mine now. The intensity of my reaction startles even me.
I feel my face contort with pain, my usual stoic mask cracking. The thought of giving her up tears at something deep inside me—something I didn't know existed until she awakened it.
“Brother...” Nikolai starts, but Dmitri cuts him off.
“I know what I'm asking.” His voice remains steady despite the obvious storm raging inside him. “But every minute she's in their hands...” He can't finish the sentence.
I turn away, my shoulders rigid with tension. We all know what Lebedev's men are capable of. The same techniques we've used countless times on our enemies. The thought of Natasha enduring that makes my blood run cold—not for her sake, but for what it would do to my brother.
“There has to be another way,” Alexi says, fingers flying over his keyboard. “Give me time to track?—”
“Time is exactly what we don't have.” Dmitri meets my eyes as I turn back. “I wouldn't ask if?—”
“I know.” My voice comes out rough with emotion I rarely allow myself to show. “But Katarina... she's not just a bargaining chip anymore.”
The admission costs me, but I owe my brothers the truth. These men are the only ones I've ever trusted completely. The only ones who know the darkness that lives inside me.
The weight of what Dmitri is asking settles heavily between us. He's not the only one who's found something worth fighting for, worth dying for. I found an unexpected... connection with our captive, and now he's asking me to give her up to save his love.
The choice tears me apart, but I already know what I'll do. Family comes first. It always has. Even if it meant giving up the one thing I never knew I wanted until she was in my hands.
Even if it means giving up Katarina.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions.
Alexi clears his throat, his fingers still dancing across his keyboard.
“Well, this is certainly a plot twist I didn't see coming. Both of my stone-cold brothers falling for women at the same time? Should I be checking the water for some kind of love potion?” His attempt at humor falls flat, but I appreciate the effort.
“We're not discussing my feelings,” I say flatly.
Dmitri shoots him a withering look. “Not the time, Alexi.”
“It's always the time for levity in crisis. That's basic psychology.” He doesn't look up from his screen. “Though I must say, Brother, your taste in women has improved significantly. The cybersecurity genius is definitely an upgrade from that bartender last year.”
Nikolai cuts through the banter. “We always planned to return Katarina to her father.
That was the endgame—just on our terms after we'd neutralized the immediate threat and gained leverage.” His steel-gray eyes find mine.
“We needed information and time. We've extracted most of what we need. This simply accelerates our timeline.”
I feel something dark and possessive rise within me. “You say that like she's a tool we're finished using.”
“Isn't she?” Nikolai asks, his expression unreadable.
The others continue discussing logistics, but I've stopped listening. My mind is with Katarina, wondering how I'll tell her, how I'll explain that after everything that happened between us, I'm handing her back to her father.
After the others disperse, Nikolai motions for me to stay. Once we're alone, he turns to me, his gaze penetrating.
“You need to back off, Erik.” His voice is quiet but unyielding. “Whatever you feel for the Lebedev girl ends now. The exchange happens, clean and simple.”
“Nikolai—”
“No.” He cuts me off with a sharp gesture.
“There's no alternative to explore here. No other path. Dmitri needs this, and family comes first. Always.” His expression softens fractionally.
“I understand what you're feeling more than you know, but you will step aside and let this happen without interference.”
I stand at attention before Nikolai, my body automatically responding to the command in his voice.
Years of Spetsnaz training have conditioned me to react this way—spine straight, shoulders back, emotions tightly locked down.
The soldier in me acknowledges the order without question. The man in me bleeds.
“Yes, sir.” The words taste like ash in my mouth, but they come out professional and detached.
My brother studies my face, searching for cracks in my composure. I give him nothing. I've survived interrogations, torture, and war. I can survive this, too.
But deep in my chest, something tears. Something I didn't know existed before Katarina walked into my life with her fire and defiance.
“The exchange will happen in two days’ time at midnight,” Nikolai continues. “You'll prepare her yourself. No one else touches her.”
A small mercy. At least I can ensure she's treated with respect until the end.
“Understood.”
Inside my head, images flash unbidden—Katarina's smile as she cracked the security breach, her trust when I carried her to safety, and her vulnerability when she shared her past. The way she fits against me like she was made to be there.
The soldier compartmentalizes. Locks away the pain. Focuses on the mission parameters.
The man wants to rage against the unfairness of finding something worth fighting for, only to surrender it without a fight.
“You've never questioned an order before,” Nikolai says quietly. “Don't start now.”
I meet his gaze, keeping my expression neutral despite the storm raging inside. “I won't compromise the family.”
It's the truest thing I can say. Family loyalty is carved into my DNA. Even for Katarina, I won't betray my brothers.
But as I turn and walk away, each step feels like moving through concrete. The training that's kept me alive through countless missions now feels like a prison. I follow orders because that's what I do. Because that's who I am.
And who I am is about to hand over the one person who made me feel something beyond duty and violence.