Chapter Twenty-Four
Elena
Before tonight, the thought never crossed my mind that I might be claustrophobic. I was once trapped in a malfunctioning elevator, and I could still breathe perfectly fine.
But now, as I stand frozen by the massive projector in a room full of high testosterone, fierce determination, and suffocating energy, I quietly reconsider the possibility.
The air conditioning works fine, but there’s an intense heat creeping up my neck and beads of sweat trickling down my spine.
I would gladly put all the blame on the baggy taupe sweater that swallows my entire torso and stops mid-thigh at the hem of my shorts, but that would be dishonest. I know the real cause of my unrest.
It’s the fear. The freaking apprehension about this...this operation.
My grip tightens around the tiny black remote and I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat. I love Tatiana with all my heart, as if she were my own blood, so I’m terrified for her. Her kidnapping exposes me to a side of this world I didn’t think I’d see so soon.
Again, for emphasis, I am no coward.
It’s just…
“We thought he’d use a ferry. I mean, that would have been my first guess.
” Ace’s voice travels across the room, dissolving my thoughts.
He’s pointing at the screen, which has the blueprint of what looks like a house.
During Leonid’s briefing, I fell into the deep, dark corners of my mind, so I missed when he explained what structure this is.
“Would be too obvious,” one of the other men tuts. He drags a hand down his face and rubs the puffadder inked across his neck. “Makes more sense he’d fuck with Leonid like this, forcing him to guess and put the pieces of the puzzle together. Vasili thinks he’s smart.”
“Obviously he ain’t smart enough. The boss figured it out pretty quick,” another one says. He has an accent I can’t place and looks new—probably a new recruit I hadn’t noticed before now, though he does seem a few years older than Ace.
A buzz starts, with more men murmuring their praises for the boss and opinions about strategy when, in the middle of the low noise, a gun clatters to the table. It’s so loud that the sound echoes off the walls, and my heart lurches.
My pulse picks up speed, racing faster than a stallion in full throttle, and the heat is back. It’s the fear again, creeping up the walls of my heart and viciously choking me.
It’s just a stupid gun. I shouldn’t be bothered.
But I am, because I know what it signifies. I know that these men don’t carry weapons like accessories.
They’re tools. Tools they intend to use tonight.
Slowly, I take deep breaths, steadying myself.
The last thing I want is to interrupt the strategy briefing for Tatiana’s rescue because of what might or might not be a panic attack.
I’m a big girl.
I can handle this.
I can.
Mikhail, who stands upfront, closer to the screen, mutters something in Russian under his breath, just loud enough that the room instantly falls silent. I don’t understand it, but it sounds harsh and cold.
The tatted man and newbie don’t say another word after that. They keep their gazes pinned on the screen and on my husband, who’s already continued speaking.
The harsh glare of the projector screen illuminates dust motes dancing in the tense air of the war room.
Leonid stands to the side of the screen.
I can’t help it; I look at him. He is the literal representation of a towering, commanding presence; a focused man who’s set on preparing his elite men for this mission with a meticulous attention to detail that makes my heart tighten.
I fidget a little, but I can’t leave, even if I wanted to.
I am literally the one keeping the presentation moving, with help from the small plastic remote.
More than that, a fiercely protective part of me refuses to walk out that door.
I need to be here, to see the man I...I feel something for, to help him navigate this disaster.
Leonid pauses mid-sentence as his steel gray eyes meet mine, a silent but loaded signal. I nod, then press the button. The remote clicks softly beneath my thumb and the image on the screen shifts, displaying a more detailed blueprint of Vasili’s facility.
He motions to the image, then faces the men. “We may not have any need for those ventilation shafts. Storming in through the entrance would suffice...”
His voice drifts to the back of my mind. Even as new data fills the room, I can’t tear my eyes away from him. I notice the coiled tension in his broad stance. Every gesture and movement is calculated, and each order that falls from his lips sounds ruthless and insistent.
By the shadows near the back mapping table, Mikhail raises a finger to catch Leonid’s attention. I didn’t even notice when he moved all the way back there.
Leonid nods and Mikhail leans forward, then takes a slow drag from a cigarette before he lets out a cloud of gray smoke.
“Permit me, Leonid, but there’s a loophole in the plan.
The east perimeter wall is too exposed. If Vasili’s men rotate early, your primary breach team is walking straight into a bottleneck. That’s a fucking suicide run.”
Leonid’s eyes darken. He steps closer to the screen, his massive frame cutting off half the light as he stares down at the blueprint.
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs, then strokes his chin.
“The early rotation is exactly why it works," he explains. “Vasili’s men are disciplined, but they’re predictable. They expect a siege, not a ghost. By the time they even realize there’s been a breach, our primary team will already be inside the central holding sector.
The plan is foolproof because we’re exploiting the one thing they rely on: their routine. ”
I nod, concurring with his explanation the same way the rest of the men do. But it’s safe to say, I understand very little of what’s going on.
What I do know, however, is that Tatiana is going to come home. She has to.
Tonight, I’m seeing the darker, tactical side of Leonid.
It’s like the dominant men I’ve read about in books—he’s the ruthless shadow king who commands absolute, unquestioning loyalty from his subjects.
There’s no hesitation in him, no room for doubt. He looks at a tall building of concrete and steel and sees a living, breathing puzzle he’s already solved.
It reminds me, again, that he and I are different in every sense of the word. We’re like fire and ice, from two different worlds.
All I’ve ever known has no similarities with the kingdom he rules.
A wave of awe and fear washes over me, sending my heart pounding frantically against my ribs.
It’s terrifying to witness the sheer scope of his darkness, to realize the true lethality that he keeps caged for me, yet it is utterly breathtaking to see how intensely he weaponizes that darkness to protect the people he loves.
He turns back to the men, his eyes scanning the grim faces of his crew. He slams his hand flat against the table, a sudden, heavy thud that makes the remote tremble in my hand.
“We know what to do, and we know how to do it: speed, stealth, and efficiency,” he emphasizes, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.
“No sloppiness. Don’t fucking move until I give the order.
If anyone finds her before I do, extract immediately.
Get her out. We take the target and erase anyone who stands in the way.
We have less than sixty minutes to get in and out.
Oh, and one more thing: leave Vasili for me. Let’s move.”
The men begin to file out of the room, with Mikhail leading the way. It takes a minute, but soon, it’s a lot quieter. No buzz. No noise.
I drop the remote on a table nearby, but my feet don’t move. I’m stuck in a haze, with my mind replaying snippets from the briefing over and over again.
My chest swells so much it hurts. He’s walking into danger, and there’s nothing I can do to help.
“Hey.” My head snaps up, and I find Leonid watching me with creased brows. “Are you okay?”
He stands tall in all black, with a gun holster strapped beneath the jacket.
I tear my gaze away from the gun and notice the small tick in his jaw.
Briefly, I scan the room. We’re the only ones left, standing at the front of the room in deafening silence.
“Yeah, I am.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he raises a brow and gives me a look that shows he isn’t convinced. “Go on, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I don’t even take a second to breathe. “Nothing.”
“Ptichka—”
“No.” I shake my head, then glare at him defiantly. “Leo, this isn’t about me. Your sister is somewhere out there with that horrible man. I am fine. Nothing’s wrong. We should go. Your men are out there, waiting.”
But he doesn’t budge.
His eyes grow darker around the edges. He drops his arms at his sides and steps forward, closing the distance between us.
“You’ve been standing there, completely frozen, like you’re fucking rooted to the spot.
I saw you, drifting in and out. I know something’s on your mind.
You know better than to tell me otherwise.
” He pauses, and a flicker of uncertainty passes through his gaze.
“All of this…it bothers you, doesn’t it? ”
My chest flutters with warmth that, despite everything going on, he watched out for me. Noticed me. But it would be selfish of me to keep this conversation going any longer.
So I move. Finally.
I step closer to him, basking in his warmth and familiar scent. Gently, with as much reassurance as I can muster, I place a hand on his chest.
“Leo…” I swallow. “Your sister needs you. Your men need you. We need to go. When we come back, we can talk about whatever you want, okay? Now’s not the time.”
Leonid’s big hands cover mine, and his brow furrows. He looks like he wants to argue.
“Leonid, I’m fine,” I insist softly, cutting him off before he can even speak the words. I lean into his chest, feeling the powerful thud of his heartbeat before I retract my hand. “Let’s go.”