Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Maxim
Those motherfuckers tried to come for my wife.
The audacity, crashing my wedding, opening fire on my guests, trying to take what’s mine.
My blood is still boiling as we step into the mansion. Calina’s voice pulls me out of the red haze.
“Maxim… what’s happening? What are we going to do?”
She was silent all through the plane and car ride back home. I guess the shock is fading now.
I stop in the foyer and turn to her. She’s still in her wedding dress, the elegant white fabric now smudged with sand and a few drops of blood. Not hers, thank fuck.
“I'm heading out, but you need to stay here,” I tell her, voice hard. “Do not leave the house under any circumstances. It’s heavily guarded. You’ll be safe.”
She stares at me, then shakes her head. “So you expect me to just sit here while I don’t even know if my family made it out safely? My sister, my brothers, Kira, Irina—I need to know they’re okay!”
I step closer, gripping her shoulders. “I already called. They’re safe. Your brothers got them out. But right now, you come first. I can't let you leave this premises and I don’t care if you hate me for it. You’re my wife now, and I protect what’s mine.”
Her eyes widen at the word “wife,” but she doesn’t pull away. For a second I see something flicker across her face, surprise, maybe even a hint of warmth, before she masks it.
I lean in, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back. Stay inside.”
I turn and walk away before she can argue more. Behind me, I hear her frustrated exhale, but she doesn’t follow. Good girl.
This is not how I planned to spend my wedding night.
I'm supposed to be upstairs right now, peeling that beautiful white dress off her body, tasting every inch of my wife, making her scream my name until she can’t think straight.
Instead, I’m heading back out to hunt the bastards who thought it was smart to attack my wedding.
How the fuck did they know the location? Only thirty guests were invited, and they only learned where it was this morning. That means one of them is a mole. The thought makes my blood burn hotter. Someone I let close enough to my wife just tried to kill her.
I get into the car and slam the door. My phone rings—Viktor.
“Status?” I bark.
“They’re out,” he says. “A few casualties on the periphery, but the family is safe. Artyom and Mikhail got everyone off the island.”
“Good. Meet me at the warehouse on the east side. We need to find the mole.”
I hang up and fire off a quick text to Dmitri telling him the same. Then another call comes in—Artyom.
“We’re safe,” he says curtly. “But we need to meet. Now.”
I understand the urgency in his tone. We need to find out who is behind this as soon as possible. For now, we have no idea whose side of the family the mole is on.
“Send me the location,” I reply. “I’m on my way.”
As the call cuts, my mind races. Thirty guests. Thirty possible traitors. Someone sold us out. Someone who was close enough to know the details.
I will find them. And when I do, their death will be slow, and painful.
I meet Artyom and Mikhail at a secured underground safe house on the outskirts of the city. One of the few locations that isn’t tied to any of our main operations.
The room is dimly lit, soundproofed, and swept for bugs.
I had texted Dmitri and Viktor to meet me here and they’re waiting outside. I trust them with my life, but right now, I need this conversation to stay between the three of us.
We sit around a steel table. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. Artyom’s jaw is locked, Mikhail looks like he wants to put a bullet in someone. Preferably me.
“How the fuck did they know the location?” I start, voice low. “Someone talked.”
Mikhail leans forward, eyes hard. “It wasn’t from our side. Our people are loyal.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re saying the mole came from my guests? You can’t be sure it wasn’t one of yours”
Artyom cuts in before Mikhail can snap back. “Enough. We all need to calm down. It could be from either side. The point is, someone sold us out. The target was clearly Calina. They came for her.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My wife. They tried to take my wife on our fucking wedding day.
I clench my fists under the table. “I want the mole found. I don’t care whose side they came from. We investigate our own people. Every single guest. Every single staff member who knew the location. We tear it apart until we find the bastard.”
Mikhail nods slowly. “Agreed. We question our own and you do same to yours. Quietly. No one outside this room knows what we’re doing.”
Artyom looks at me, his expression grave. “Is there anyone who might be trying to get back at you for something? Stepped on any toes recently?”
I give him a what do you think? look. In our line of work, we step on toes all the time. But my mind keeps circling back to Adrian.
That self-righteous bastard has been trying to undermine me for months. Blocking my entry into the Society, sending men after me, doing everything in his power to make me look unstable.
Is it possible he had a hand in today’s attack? The thought makes my blood burn hotter. If he does, I’ll rip his spine out with my bare hands.
Artyom notices the shift in my expression. “What is it? You look like you’re thinking of someone specific.”
I hesitate. I don’t want to bring this up yet. But Mikhail leans forward. “This is our sister we’re talking about. If you have something that could help us find who’s behind this, now would be a good time to say it.”
I exhale slowly and tell them. “Adrian Volkov. The vice president of the Society. He’s been against me joining from the beginning.
He’s tried to have me killed before. He hates that I’m not ‘pure blood.’ Now that I’m married to Calina, I have the alliance he couldn’t stop.
It’s possible he’s behind today’s attack. ”
Artyom’s jaw clenches. “That conceited prick. He’s always thought he was better than everyone else.”
Mikhail nods. “If Adrian is involved, we need to have him followed. But it can’t be your men. What if the mole is one of them? We need a neutral party. Someone from our side.”
I feel my temper flare. “You’re saying I can’t handle my own business?”
Artyom raises a hand. “No disrespect. But this is Calina. We’ll feel better if we have our own eyes on Adrian. We can’t risk anything slipping through because of blind loyalty.”
I want to argue. I want to tell them Viktor and Dmitri would never betray me. But then I think of Calina, how close I came to losing her today. Her safety comes first. Even if it bruises my pride.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Use one of your men. But I want to know everything.”
We spend the next twenty minutes hammering out logistics, who will tail Adrian, how we’ll coordinate without alerting anyone, what we’ll do when we find the mole. The anger in the room is thick. None of us are happy that Calina was the target.
When we’re done, Artyom looks at me. “How is she?”
I lean back in my chair. “She’s fine. Rattled, but she’s holding up. She almost bit my head off earlier because she didn’t know you were safe.”
Mikhail chuckles. “Yeah, I can imagine that.”
Artyom pulls out his phone. “I’ll call and let her know we're okay.”
The moment the call connects, I see Artyom close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. I can practically hear Calina talking his ear off through the phone. Mikhail and I share a small, knowing look. She’s probably giving him hell for worrying her.
After a few minutes of reassurance, Artyom hands the phone to Mikhail. They both speak to her, calming her down, telling her they’re safe.
When they finally hang up, the tension in the room eases slightly.
I stand up. “I need to get back to her.”
Artyom nods. “Keep her safe, Orlov.”
“I will.”
As I walk out of the safehouse and head toward the car, all I can think about is getting home to my wife.
Only a few hours into our marriage and we’ve already survived an attack. I want to hold her. I want to remind myself she’s still here. Still mine.
Calina
I’m still in shock.
Hours have passed since the chaos on the island, but my mind keeps replaying the moment the gunshots started.
One second, I was dancing in Maxim’s arms, the next the world exploded with bullets and screams.
I can still feel the sand digging into my skin as he threw me down and covered me with his body. I can still hear the sharp cracks of gunfire and my own voice screaming for my sister.
I’ve been sitting in our bedroom for what feels like forever, then pacing, then sitting again. I can’t stay still. My nerves are frayed, my heart won’t stop racing.
I'm only able to calm down after speaking to my brothers and they’ve assured me they are all safe.
I’m so grateful my family made it out safely. Maxim wasn’t lying when he said he’d send men to help my brothers get everyone off the island. That knowledge brings me some comfort, but it doesn’t stop the whirlwind in my head.
How did those attackers know the location? Someone must have leaked it. Someone close. The thought sends chills down my spine.
Was I the target? Or was it Maxim? Or both of us? The way they came after us felt personal. If they were willing to attack a wedding, what else are they capable of?
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to push the fear away. I’m safe here. The house is heavily guarded.
My head snaps up as Maxim walks in, looking exhausted. His suit is rumpled, his hair messy.
There are shadows under his eyes and a tightness in his jaw that tells me he’s been through hell.
Relief floods through me so strongly I don’t even think. I rush toward him.
“Thank God you’re back,” I breathe, stopping just in front of him. “Are you okay? Do you know who sent those attackers? How did they even find out about the island? Was I the target or—”
I realize I’m bombarding him with questions, my words tumbling out too fast, and I stop abruptly.
“Sorry,” I say, softer now. “You must be tired. I’m just… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you the second you walked in.”
He looks at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his dark eyes. Then he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch surprisingly tender.
He finally answers me, his voice low and tired. “We’re still looking for who was behind the attack. We'll find them.”
I nod. “Okay…”
But there’s something in the way he’s looking at me, a heaviness, a quiet suspicion. An awkward silence stretches between us. He’s staring at me like he’s waiting for something.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He studies me for a long moment. “Do you have anything to tell me?”
I blink, confused. “No… why?”
“Are you sure?” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. “You’re not hiding anything from me?”
I shake my head, genuinely lost. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
Without another word, he reaches behind his back, into the waistband of his trousers, and pulls out a familiar sleek pistol. The same gun Irina slipped me in the restaurant bathroom.
I gasp. “Where did you find that?”
His eyes harden. “That’s not the right question. The right question is, what the hell are you doing with a gun?”
My stomach drops. “It was Irina. She gave it to me when we went shopping. She said it was for protection… just in case things went bad. I don’t even know how to use it properly. I just… I took it because she insisted.”
He stares at me, jaw tight. “If my wife has a gun, I need to know about it. I can’t have you sneaking things into the house.
I already have a mole in my organization.
People are lying to me every single day.
Someone is trying to kill me, and now my wife is hiding a weapon from me.
How the fuck am I supposed to trust you? ”
His words hit hard, and I see his point of view.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I should have told you. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you… I just didn’t think it mattered. But you’re right. No more secrets. I promise I’ll be upfront with you from now on.”
He lets out a long breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Good. Because if I can’t trust my own wife, then what’s the point of any of this?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “And you… you won’t keep things from me either, right?”
He hesitates, then says, “If I ever keep something from you, it’s for your own safety.”
I want to argue. I want to tell him that I’m not a child, that I can handle the truth. But I bite my tongue. For now, I’ll pick my battles wisely.
“Fine,” I whisper.