Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
ANDREI
Ipulled my phone from my pocket as Oscar merged into traffic. My fingers moved with practiced precision, opening the encrypted messaging app I hadn't touched in years.
The one that connected me to people from my past. People who moved in shadows and asked no questions.
People like my cousin's best assets.
Me: Need additional security. Discreet. For my woman. Target may escalate.
The response came within seconds.
S: Location?
I typed out Kaleb's address, then added Lottie's office location and our building address.
S: Consider it done. You won't see them.
Me: Good. Keep me posted on any movement. Especially cream BMW. Owner is hostile.
S: Understood.
I pocketed my phone, satisfied. Sergei's men were some of the best I'd ever worked with. They'd protected Sofia when she was most vulnerable during her treatments. They'd kept Maxim safe when threats emerged against Sergei.
They'd keep Lottie safe now.
And she'd never know they were there.
"Who were you texting?" Kaleb's voice held an edge of suspicion.
I met his gaze over Lottie's head. "Insurance."
"Andrei—"
"Later," I cut him off, nodding toward our girl who was finally starting to calm in Kaleb's arms. "We'll discuss later."
He didn't like it—that much was clear from the set of his jaw—but he gave a curt nod.
Lottie shifted, lifting her head to look between us. "What was that about?"
"Nothing for you to worry about, kroshka." I brushed my knuckles along her cheek. "Just making sure we have everything we need to keep you safe."
Her eyes searched mine for a long moment before she nodded, settling back against Kaleb's chest.
The rest of the drive passed in silence. Lottie's breathing had evened out, exhaustion finally claiming her as the adrenaline faded.
When we pulled into the garage, I caught a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. There, in the shadows of the treeline along the side of the property.
Most people wouldn't notice. But I wasn't most people.
The figure stood perfectly still, blending with the darkness beneath the evergreens. Tall. Broad-shouldered. The stance of someone trained to remain unseen.
I knew that posture.
Mikhail. Sergei's best friend and one of the deadliest men I'd ever had the privilege of working alongside. Before I left Russia, we'd trained together. Fought together. Bled together.
If Sergei sent Mikhail, he was taking this seriously.
Relief washed through me. One more layer of protection. One more set of eyes watching for threats.
The tightness in my chest eased, just slightly.
"Let's get inside," Kaleb murmured, already shifting to carry Lottie without waking her.
I held the door as Kaleb carried her through, Colby close behind us. His car was already waiting in the garage when we pulled in. Oscar secured the garage and began his sweep of the perimeter.
Inside, we worked in silent coordination. The kind that came from years of friendship and knowing each other's movements without words.
Colby grabbed the weighted blanket from the living room closet—the one Lottie loved that made her feel safe and secure.
I gathered bottles of water from the fridge, along with the container of trail mix and crackers she preferred when her stomach was upset.
Kaleb settled on the couch, arranging Lottie carefully across his lap. She stirred, blinking up at him with drowsy confusion.
"Daddy K?"
"Right here, baby girl." He smoothed her hair back from her face. "We're home now. You're safe."
Colby spread the weighted blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders. "We've got you, little one."
I set the water and snacks on the coffee table within easy reach, then sank onto the couch beside Kaleb. My hand found Lottie's ankle, needing the physical connection to reassure myself she was here. She was safe.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words muffled against Kaleb's chest. "I didn't know what to do. She threatened all of you, and I just—"
"Shh." Kaleb pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You did exactly right. You kept her talking. You kept the phone connected so we could hear everything."
"You were so brave, kroshka." I squeezed her ankle gently. "Facing her down like that."
Lottie shook her head. "I wasn't brave. I was terrified."
"Brave isn't the absence of fear," Colby said quietly from his position in the armchair. "It's acting despite the fear. And you did that today."
She sniffled, reaching for one of the water bottles. Kaleb helped her twist the cap off, then guided it to her lips.
"Small sips," he murmured. "Don't want you getting sick."
My phone buzzed. My man from inside the county sheriff's office, Hardiun.
Harduin: Got her. Picked her up at her country club. She's not happy. Lawyer's already been called, but the recording is solid. Extortion. Threats. We'll make it stick.
I showed the message to Kaleb and Colby. Relief flooded Kaleb's features, the tension finally draining from his shoulders.
"It's done," I told Lottie. "Detectives have her. She can't hurt you now."
"But she said—the press—your reputation—" Lottie's words tumbled over each other in her panic.
"Baby girl." Kaleb tilted her face up to his. "Listen to me. My mother is all talk. She has nothing. No evidence. No photos. It was a bluff to scare you."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been watching her for months," Kaleb said, his voice hard. "Had a PI document everything. Every lunch. Every meeting. Every phone call. If she had anything substantial on us, she would have used it already. She's desperate and sloppy."
Lottie blinked. "You knew she'd try something?"
"I suspected." He stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you. I thought I had more time."
"None of us could have predicted she'd go this far this fast, much less that she'd involve Lottie," Colby added. "But it's over now. She's done."
I watched as the truth of our words finally penetrated Lottie's fear. Her body relaxed incrementally, melting into Kaleb's embrace.
"We protect each other," I said firmly, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "That's what family does. My grandfather may be a bastard in many ways, but he taught me one truth—family stands together against any threat."
"Volkovs, Wulfs, and Colliers," Kaleb agreed softly.
"Together," Colby finished.
Lottie reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. "Together," she echoed.
And in that moment, despite the chaos of the day, I knew with absolute certainty that we'd face whatever came next.
Together.
I startled awake, my neck protesting the awkward angle I'd dozed off in. The soft glow of the television cast shadows across the darkened room. Gordon Ramsay's muffled voice filtered through—Colby must have turned the volume down.
My gaze swept the space. Colby was wedged in his corner of the couch, mouth slightly open, soft snores punctuating the quiet.
Kaleb sat upright beside me, wide awake. His hazel eyes were locked on Lottie, still curled against his chest. But his face—
Concern etched deep lines between his brows. His jaw worked, muscles jumping beneath the skin. One hand rested protectively over Lottie's back, the other clenched white-knuckled against his thigh.
Something twisted in my gut.
"Kaleb," I kept my voice low. "What's wrong?"
His gaze flicked to mine, then back to Lottie. "We need to talk."
The weight in those words made my spine straighten. I glanced at Colby—still dead to the world—then back at Kaleb.
"Office?"
He shook his head. "Here. Just quiet."
I shifted closer, keeping my movements slow. Controlled. Lottie didn't stir, her breathing deep and even.
"What happened?"
Kaleb's throat worked. "Sierra called. About twenty minutes ago."
Sierra. His youngest sister. The one who actually gave a shit about him, unlike Monica who'd gone full Patrice-clone years ago.
But she began to see her mother in a different light over the last few months as Patrice grew desperate.
I knew Kaleb hoped they may be able to reconcile. He loved both his sisters fiercely.
"And?"
"Patrice has been bleeding money even faster than I thought." His hand trembled slightly where it rested on Lottie's back. "She's taken out loans. Used Monica's name. Forged documents. Sierra found everything while helping Monica clean out their father's old office."
Fuck.
"How bad?"
"Close to five million in debt." Kaleb's voice was barely audible. "She's desperate, Drei. More desperate than I realized."
The pieces clicked into place. The escalation. The threats against Lottie. The forty-eight hour timeline.
"She needs the two million to pay off the most aggressive creditors," I stated.
Kaleb nodded. "Before they come for Rupert. Or her."
"What did Sierra say about pressing charges?"
"She's gathering everything. Documentation. Paper trails." His jaw clenched harder. "But she's scared. Patrice knows where she lives. Knows about her daughter."
My hands curled into fists. The familiar burn of rage licked through my veins—the kind I'd spent years learning to control.
"Viktor," I said simply.
Kaleb's eyes widened. "What?"
"He owes me." I pulled out my phone, scrolling to find his name in my contact list. "He has resources. Connections. Can make sure Sierra and her family are protected while we build the case. I'd ask Sergei, but he already sent his best here to back us up."
"Andrei—"
"I know what I'm doing." I met his gaze.
"This isn't about reconciliation. This is business.
Protection for family. He'll understand that.
He knows I'm still not fully ready to forgive him and pretend the past didn't happen.
He's trying. He'll help. Even if we hadn't started speaking again, he'd help. Family, remember?"
Lottie stirred between us, a soft sound escaping her lips. We both froze, waiting, but she simply burrowed deeper into Kaleb's chest.
"What about the club?" Kaleb's voice dropped even lower. "Patrice mentioned it specifically. If she has names—"
"She doesn't." I was certain of it. "We keep those records sealed tighter than Fort Knox. But we need to warn the members. Give them a heads up about potential media scrutiny."
Colby snorted in his sleep, his head lolling to the side. Still dead to the world.
Lucky bastard.
"I'll contact the board in the morning," Kaleb said. "Emergency meeting. We'll implement the crisis protocol we established."
"Good."
We sat in silence for a long moment. The TV continued its white noise. Lottie's breathing stayed even.
"She can't come for Lottie again," Kaleb finally said. His eyes were haunted when they met mine. "I'll kill her myself if she tries."
I'd never heard Kaleb speak of killing anyone. Not in all our years together.
"She won't." I squeezed his shoulder. "Marshall has her. The recording is solid. Between the extortion, the threats, the gun—"
"The gun." Kaleb's voice cracked. "She brought a fucking gun to threaten our girl."
"I know."
His hand trembled where it rested on Lottie's back. The careful control he always maintained was fracturing.
"She could have—if Lottie had refused—"
"But she didn't." I gripped his shoulder harder. "Our girl is safe. Right here. Between us where she belongs."
Kaleb sucked in a shuddering breath. Then another. Working to rein himself back in.
"We need a plan," he said finally. "For when Patrice makes bail. Because you know she will."
"Already working on it." I glanced down at my phone, where messages from Sergei were starting to come through. "Mikhail is here. Plus two others. They're watching the house. The office. Lottie's old condo, just in case."
"You called in Bratva soldiers." It wasn't a question.
"I called in family." I met his gaze squarely.
"Men I trust with my life. With her life.
They owe me nothing, but they'll do this because Sergei asked.
Because that's what family does." I'd keep saying it until Kaleb finally believed it.
But I didn't blame him. His childhood and family was fucked up.
I'd been away from my family for years. Now that I was back in touch with Sergei, the rest of the family welcomed me back into the fold. In whatever capacity it was. I may not be Bratva anymore, but I had the full weight of them behind me.
Kaleb nodded slowly. The trust in his eyes—the relief—made something in my chest ease.
"Thank you."
"Don't." I shook my head. "We protect each other. That includes using every resource available."
Lottie stirred again, this time her eyes fluttering open. "Daddies?"
"Right here, baby girl." Kaleb's voice transformed instantly, all the hard edges smoothing into warmth. "Did we wake you?"
She shook her head, yawning. "Bathroom."
Colby jerked awake at her voice, instantly alert despite having been dead asleep seconds ago. "I'll take you, little one."
He rose, crossing to scoop her into his arms before she could protest. She giggled sleepily, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her from the room.
The moment they were out of earshot, Kaleb's mask slipped again.
"I need to tell her," he said. "Everything. About Patrice. About my father. About what she's capable of. Of what we suspect about my father's death."
"Tomorrow," I replied. "Let her rest tonight. She's been through enough."
"Agreed." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "But tomorrow, no more secrets. She deserves to know what she's walking into."
"What we're walking into," I corrected. "This isn't just your burden anymore."
Kaleb's eyes glistened, but he blinked it away. "When did you become the wise one?"
"When I fell in love with a woman who taught me that carrying burdens alone only makes you bitter."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "She's pretty fucking perfect, isn't she?"
"The best thing that ever happened to us."
Footsteps announced Colby's return, Lottie still cradled in his arms. Her eyes were already drifting shut again.
"Up to bed, little one," Colby murmured, heading for the stairs.
Kaleb rose to follow, but I caught his arm.
"We've got this," I said quietly. "Whatever Patrice tries next, we'll be ready."
He searched my face, then nodded once. Firm. Resolute.
"Together."
"Together."
We climbed the stairs side by side, heading toward the bedroom where Colby was already settling Lottie beneath the covers.
Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. Legal battles. Media scrutiny. Patrice's inevitable counterattack.
But tonight, we'd hold our girl close.
And that was enough.