Chapter 23 – Celine
“What do you mean you’re sending me away?” I asked, my voice almost cracking as I held his gaze.
“It’s just for some time until I take care of this mess once and for all.” He wrapped his arms around me, his eyes locked with mine.
I paused, wondering how I was going to survive without him. “How long? How long until you come get me?”
Silence.
My tear glands began charging up, yet I wouldn’t break eye contact. “How long, Artur?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “Hopefully just a few days.”
“Hopefully?” I raised my brows.
“It’s no longer safe here, Celine,” he said. “Right now, you and this baby are my top priorities. I can’t function knowing that you’re in danger.”
“How sure are you that we’ll be safe wherever you’re sending me to?”
“You will be safe,” he answered, his voice laced with assurance. “I guarantee you that.”
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was afraid. Not for me. For him. This was war, and in war, anything was possible. As much as it scared me to admit, there was a chance he might not come back alive.
I wasn’t sure I was ready for that right now.
“Do I really have to go?”
He reached out, tucking my hair behind my ear with a small smile on his face. “I thought you’d be happy to leave. This is your chance at a proper escape.”
“It’s not funny!” I playfully slammed my fist into his buff chest.
“I know,” he whispered. “But I need to know that you’re safe, both of you.” His other hand found my belly. “It’s the only way I can focus and win this for us.”
I threw my arms around him, my head resting on his chest. Clinging tightly to him, I hoped to God that this wouldn’t be the last time I’d see him.
Crazy how a few months ago, all I wanted to do was get away from him. But now, the thought of losing him scared the shit out of me. I’d grown so used to him, so attached that it was difficult to picture my life without him.
When he stroked my hair, I realized just how much I was actually going to miss him. After everything we’d been through, our connection had deepened in ways neither of us was prepared for.
That feeling I’d been suppressing for a while now came washing over me like a flood. Considering the way he held me in the silence of the room, I concluded that the feeling was mutual.
He cared about me, but he just wouldn’t admit it yet. I saw it in his eyes whenever he looked at me. Even in the way he held on to me like I was something that would break if he let go.
The emotions we kept hidden—buried in a shallow grave beneath the surface—were already digging their way out. Although we had yet to speak our truths, we both could sense it in the tension around us.
I never thought a day would come when I would almost weep at the thought of being separated from Artur Tarasov. But there I was, fighting back the tears that welled in my eyes.
When he finally let go, I lowered my head, sniffling.
“I’ll have the best of my men escort you to a safe house at a secure location,” he whispered softly. “They’ll protect you until I come back.”
I locked my jaw, nodding as he spoke. My fingers wiped the tears that dotted my lashes before I met his gaze again. “You make sure you return home to us in one piece.” I placed a hand on my belly.
He nodded, his huge hand covering mine. “I will.” Artur kissed my forehead first, then my lips.
I threw my hand around his neck, pulling his head closer as I deepened the kiss. A few seconds later, his lips separated from mine, his fresh breath warm against my skin.
His forehead was resting on mine when I looked into his eyes and said, “Do me a favor, will you?”
He listened.
“Kill that son of a bitch.”
His reply was a wicked smirk, faint and almost imperceptible. He planted another kiss on my lips and then walked out of the room.
He joined the soldiers waiting in the hallway, and together, they left the building. From the window, I watched them get into their armored vehicles, a long convoy that screamed danger.
In a single file, the convoy set out toward the estate gates, ready for whatever lay ahead.
Footsteps approached me from behind, drawing my attention toward the entrance.
“Ma’am.” A tall, muscular man halted before me. “The car’s ready. We’re waiting for you downstairs.”
It was Ilya, one of Artur’s most loyal men. The man was a skilled fighter, and I was certain that he was going to do all he could to protect me.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I answered. “Lemme just gather my stuff.”
He gave a curt nod and left.
Ilya was the one who’d temporarily replaced Konstantin. At least for now. Konstantin was badly wounded during the last attack and was still recovering in the ICU.
Because of everything happening, Artur had asked the men guarding me to move stealthily. We used regular cars that could easily blend in, nothing that would draw unwanted attention.
Even when we moved on the highway, the two vehicles in front and behind the one carrying me were at a safe distance. There were other cars between us, and because of that trick, nobody would know it was a convoy.
I was in the backseat of the car, and Ilya was my driver. Another colleague of his was riding shotgun, both dressed in regular clothes that fit the narrative. I pressed my head against the glass, absently watching the city blur past outside.
After a long drive, we arrived at a secluded villa at the outskirts of town. Just like the mansion, the safe house was surrounded by vast vegetation. The air was filled with the sound of chirping birds and the rich scent of nature.
The place was a small cabin standing lazily in the glades of the forest. At least that’s what it looked like from this angle. The vehicles rolled to a stop, and Ilya killed the engine.
“We’re here.” He opened the car door, stepped and opened mine.
The other guy had by now already begun walking over to the trunk to get my luggage. I climbed down from the vehicle, took off the scarf covering my face, and plucked off my dark shades. The idea was to conceal my identity as subtly as possible.
My eyes caught sight of the fresh flowers lining the cobblestone pathways leading to the entrance. Their sweet fragrance drifted into my nostrils, prompting a small smile on my lips.
About ten trained guards in black suits stepped out of the house and began walking over to us.
I stepped back, alarmed.
“Relax, ma’am,” Ilya said to me. “They’re with us.”
That’s when I slowly lowered my guard.
“Good day, Mrs. Tarasov,” one of the new guys greeted me with a polite nod. “Welcome to the safe house.” He halted in front of me. “My name is Dimitri, and I’m in charge of the men assigned to keep you safe.”
“I thought he was in charge.” I glanced at Ilya.
“Of bringing you here in one piece, yes.”
Ilya chipped in, “We’re in good hands, trust me, ma’am. These guys are the best. That’s why the boss sent us here.”
A female guard standing next to Dimitri leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
He straightened and cleared his throat. “With all due respect, ma’am, my colleague would like to know if you’re the one they call the Giant Slayer.”
I yanked my brows, flattered. “Wow, word travels fast.”
The lady beamed at me but said nothing. She was the only female amongst these buff men, and that meant she was just as good as the rest of them.
I was impressed.
“You must be tired. Let’s get you settled in.” Dimitri signaled his men to help gather our things. “Come, let me show you inside.”
I learned from the men that this building was bomb-proof. The doors and windows were forged from reinforced steel, thick enough to withstand any blast.
The walls were layered with composite plating and concrete, designed to absorb shock, rather than crack under it. There were silent alarms hidden around the structure, dismantling the idea of stealth and a quiet invasion.
We needed these back at the mansion. Perhaps I’d suggest it when Artur returned from war.
I was told that even the ventilation shafts were too narrow for someone to crawl through. It was fitted with motion sensors and grates.
The place that looked like a cabin in the middle of the woods turned out to be a vault dressed as a shelter. This was quiet and peaceful.
Out here, time seemed to move more slowly. Or maybe it was just my mind because I couldn’t stop worrying about my husband. I felt trapped in this fortress, unable to do anything to help Artur.
Knowing he was out there fighting for a world safe to raise our baby had me worried. He was up against the worst of the worst. And last I heard, the Bratva had refused to lend him a helping hand.
With each passing day, my anxiety grew, worried about his safety. Every time I closed my eyes, it was hard not to imagine him lying lifeless on the ground. And even my dreams at night weren’t helping.
For the past three nights, I’d been having the same nightmare, one in which he was killed in battle. I always told myself that it was just my fears manifesting as a dream. Yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong.
He said he was going to come get me within a few days. A few days was already turning into a week, and fear was gradually becoming my companion.
I spent most of my time in the garden at the back, praying for my husband’s safe return. I wasn’t religious. But these were desperate times, and all I could do at the moment was pray.
Just yesterday, I learned from Ilya that Artur was working with a man named Sergei Smirnov. According to him, Sergei was a cunning bastard, and the two men had been at loggerheads for years.
The fact that they were working together didn’t sit well with me at all. I understood that they had a mutual enemy, and it would be easier to take him down together. But enemies were enemies for a reason.
And with what I heard about Sergei Smirnov, the chances of him turning on Artur were quite high. However, knowing my husband, he wouldn’t have gotten in bed with a man like that without a plan.
I just wished that I were there to help him out in ways that I could.
Another man was also on their team: Anatoli Petrov. I’d been trying to recall where I’d heard that name before, but I hadn’t been able to remember.
Until now.
Anatoli was one of the men I met at the gala months ago. He was the short man with a sense of humor—the one I thought was a nice guy.
I didn’t know much about him, nor did Ilya, so it was hard to tell whether he could be trusted or not.
Regardless, trust was a dangerous luxury in this world. Artur knew that for sure.
To get my mind off my mental and emotional stress, I found a new hobby. Writing. Every day, I would sit in the garden for hours, writing him letters I couldn’t send. In those letters were the emotions and feelings I couldn’t express, the words I never found the courage to say.
“Dear Artur, this is the fifteenth letter I’ve written to you in just three days. Yeah, that’s how jobless and bored I am.
I know I’ve never said this before, but…I miss you. I miss your touch, your kisses, and simply being around you.
In case a part of you is worried about me, I want you to know I’m fine. We both are. The guards here are good people, and they’ve been kind to me.
I don’t even know what to say anymore. Just be careful out there and make sure you come back to us.
From your wife, Celine, with love.
Kisses.”