Chapter 29 – Ivan
IVAN
As more people filed in, the more the room felt like a pressure cooker. Thunder drowned out the noise as the Paraskia leadership arrived one by one. I stood rigidly at attention, my face a practiced mask of professional composure, while inside, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins.
Grey was on the run; was I really standing here, pretending to care about what was happening?
I met the steel-grey eyes of Valeria Alexandrovna Kozlova. Everything about her, from her cold, hard eyes to the steel-gray hair pulled back in a severe bun, matched her nickname. Ledyanaya Koroleva—the ice queen.
The Kozlova family was one of the leading Bratva families in Moscow.
And the only one with a female leader, at least as the gray eminence behind the scenes.
Two of the highest-ranking members of the Paraskia’s governing council flanked her, and her appearance was a complete surprise. Had the leadership changed?
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve been at least marginally interested in the political implications. But nothing about this situation was normal. And who was in charge was really not the most pressing priority.
Grey’s absence was. And it screamed danger even though it was highly unlikely Grey was stupid enough to try to leave the island in this weather.
I scanned the other council members’ faces, searching for any indication of why they were here, but their expressions revealed nothing.
My brothers had positioned themselves strategically around the room—Roman by the main entrance and Anton near the Salvinis, hovering close to the tech station. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize their tense postures. They felt the same unease I did.
Even Vince Salvini looked tense when Kozlova approached him. Then, movement by the door caught my eye. Nina was pushing through the crowd of officials, her face deathly pale.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
She reached me, leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Grey and Marcus took Isabella and Cara. They’re in boats heading toward that yacht offshore.”
The words hit me like physical blows. Time stopped. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out the storm outside and the polite conversation around me. Isabella. Taken.
A series of images flashed through my mind: Isabella’s fierce eyes when she’d challenged me; her vulnerability as she’d slept in my arms; her body trembling when she saw Marcus Moretti. I had promised myself I wouldn’t let Grey near her again. I had failed.
My vision tunneled, and a cold rage washed over me—a familiar rage but one I hadn’t experienced in a while.
Before I’d fully processed what was happening, my body was already moving toward the door. Every instinct demanded immediate action.
I would not let Grey take Shorty. No fucking way.
Kozlova stepped directly into my path. “Zotov, we’ve got some things to discuss.” Her voice was sharp, authoritative—with the commanding power of someone of her caliber.
Every fiber of my being screamed to push past her, but years of experience held me in place. Even though each second felt like an eternity.
“Valeria Alexandrovna, with respect,” I managed, my voice tight with controlled urgency, “we have an immediate security situation that requires attention.”
She raised an eyebrow. “More pressing than what has been happening on a secured Paraskia property?”
The calculating coldness in her voice made my jaw clench. Was this about cleaning up what had been happening? Or was it about covering their backs, about politics, while Isabella was in danger?
The doors burst open, saving me from making a career-ending decision by telling her exactly where I was standing.
Hawk entered with Birdie beside him, both moving with military precision that immediately commanded the room’s attention.
They were soaking wet from the storm, their expressions grim and focused.
Confusion rippled through me—Hawk’s presence alongside the Paraskia leadership made absolutely no sense. Hawk and his team had been victims of the ambush when the Paraskia kidnapped the Salvini sisters. How was Hawk now on the same side as Paraskia’s leadership?
Vince, next to me, straightened, and his expression darkened with suspicion. “What the hell is Raptor Security doing here?”
My mind raced, recalculating everything I thought I knew. Hawk’s connections ran deeper than I’d realized.
Much deeper.
Or was this collaboration new?
Hawk nodded almost imperceptibly at Valeria Kozlova, a gesture of familiarity that stunned me, then addressed her directly, bypassing all protocol. “Director Kozlova, we have confirmation that Grey is currently fleeing with two hostages.”
Roman appeared from somewhere, tablet in hand. Water dripped from his hair as he swiped through satellite images. “Satellite shows two boats headed to the yacht five miles offshore. We need to move now. The storm’s intensifying—we’ll lose our window.”
I watched the director’s expression harden as she turned to her security team. “Secure the compound. No one leaves.”
Her professionalism was admirable amid this chaos. This was probably what the Paraskia Syndicate needed going forward—a clear directive, a plan of action.
I stepped forward, conscious of every eye in the room on me.
“Director,” I acknowledged her position, “request permission to lead the retrieval team.”
“Denied,” she responded coolly. “You’re too close to this situation, Zotov. And I don’t trust you.”
The dismissal felt like a knife to the gut but ignited something primal in me. Something dark and dangerous that had always been a part of me…a tightly leashed part.