Chapter 5 Mikhail
MIKHAIL
One week passed with Anya in my home. Seven days of her not coming out of her room.
She sulked and avoided me, and that was fine by me.
Easier, too. She’d be here, safe and fed, and that was all that mattered.
Martin arranged her tutoring and provided her with any needs she wanted—clothes and the like.
According to what he reported, she was a bibliophile, a voracious reader.
She also played the piano, and that was the only reason she ever left her room.
Hearing live music was different. She’d go down to the lower floor with the ballroom and play on the grand piano that was mostly only there for show. Martin hired someone to come in and tune the instrument once Anya proved that she was an avid player and pianist.
She didn’t try to speak with me, and the few times I came to say hello when she read in the library or played the piano, I was met with silence.
Still, I let her be. I wouldn’t pry. If she wanted to stick with this silent treatment, she’d cave sooner or later. Any prisoner in an isolated cell would crack after so much time. I was confident she wouldn’t be any different.
“I invited her to lunch,” Roman said when he joined me for dinner. Andre and Sergei were out and about, busy or preferring their own residences for the night.
I raised my brows and smirked. “Why bother?”
He shrugged. “I figure if no one else can get her to talk, I might.”
I rolled my eyes. He usually was the one who could schmooze and charm women. Anya was impervious even to him. “Don’t sweat it.”
“Oh, I’m not.” He didn’t look up from cutting his steak. “But I do wonder if we’re missing out on intel through her.”
“I doubt it.”
“You don’t think that the Volkovs had secrets we could benefit from knowing about?” he asked.
“No. They gambled away their money. They mismanaged their finances to a state of ruin I had no desire to help them out of.”
He snorted. “You did help them.”
I nodded. Years ago, I offered my father-in-law a lump sum to ease his worries. I only did so to ensure he wouldn’t seek loans from one of my enemies. He accepted the money, but still, he lost it all and had the audacity to ask for more, which I turned down.
“I’ve been wondering about it all,” he replied casually. “Since she came and those men were trying to break in and kidnap her.”
“Nothing special about that.” There really wasn’t.
None of them had a woman to be concerned about.
No offspring. Roman would be the loose cannon, the one to worry about in that regard.
I prayed he had the common sense to bag it when he fucked the women who came in and out of his life.
Not a single one of us was celibate, but we’d so far made sure to avoid having children.
One day, we’d need to secure a future. I had with Andre.
My older brother had with Sergei and Roman.
They’d have to have children someday, though.
When that happened, we’d be facing the increased threats of those young ones being taken for leverage.
Just like the attempt that had already been made on Anya.
We simply had too many enemies in the world to ever be free from that concern.
With Anya here, it was almost expected that someone would try to take her and use her as collateral damage.
“We questioned them,” I reminded him. Those two men I had stopped with Sergei hadn’t told us anything.
They were dead now, wasted space since they took all the torture and stayed quiet about who had sent them and hired them to capture Anya.
“So it proves someone’s got their eyes on her, but that doesn’t surprise me. ”
Roman nodded, eating some more. “Not surprising,” he agreed after a moment, “but annoying.”
“Of course, it’s—”
Gunfire cut him off. We both jumped into action immediately, reaching for our guns. Food was forgotten. Dinner was as good as over. With the ingrained reaction to this sound, we snapped into high alert.
Roman ran out before me, guns up and firing at the trespassers. Like the two men from the other night, they were masked and unidentifiable. And there were many.
Guards rushed into action, firing back at the men who filed in from breaking the windows on this floor. Others set up barricades, covering me from a direct hit.
But that wasn’t how I ruled. That wasn’t how I protected the family.
They could try to take a shot at me, but it was Anya who wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
I never had to stress about vulnerable people in the house.
My son and nephews were trained to protect themselves.
They were killers. All the soldiers and guards here were able to hold their own.
But Anya wasn’t.
Fuck!
I ran up the stairs toward the floor where the ballroom was, desperate to save her, to keep her safe.
It didn’t matter if she hated me. It made no difference if she loathed me and detested being here.
She was family. I would do my duty and protect her. My loyalty to the family, my flesh and blood, would never, ever waver.
Reaching the ballroom three floors up, I arrived just in time. She was playing a complicated piece, lost in her world and oblivious to the men running in from the side of the room. They’d no doubt broken in from the back of the building, but I’d be damned if they reached her.
They raised their guns, aiming at her as they dashed further over the polished marble floor.
I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t think. Lifting my arms, I began to fire and take them out.
The music stopped. Anya ceased playing, crouching over the piano and screaming in fear.
“Get back!” I shouted at her, sprinting to her and blocking her.
She hunched down, easing into the void of space between the bench and the bulky instrument.
It was wise. A wall, a shelter, but I covered her front and kept firing.
I would destroy each and every one of these motherfuckers for daring to threaten his brat of mine.
Roman and Andre were there. My son must have just arrived, and as he joined the fight, they came toward me with other guards, making up a wall to protect the most vulnerable. Anya stayed down, tucked against the wall of the piano and behind the bench.
We fired at the men who came in to attack, but eventually, we got them all. No longer outnumbered as more guards raised the alarm and secured the building, we killed every one of them who’d come in to target Anya.
“All clear,” a soldier announced after the gunfire died down.
I nodded, checking over the other men.
We were all standing, still guarding Anya at the piano, thanks to the rapid-fire reaction to defend the fort.
Andre hissed at a graze on his cheek.
Roman hunched over, catching his breath.
But I staggered back, sitting on the bench.
“I hope…” Dizziness hit me as I tried to twist and see if Anya was all right. She had to be. I had the sense to rush up here, knowing she’d be most vulnerable and targeted.
“Boss?” A guard near us was already urging Anya out of hiding. Andre was leaning down to get her out of her hiding spot too.
“Father.” Andre gave up helping her and reached out to catch me instead.
I slumped over, sluggishly pawing at the tranq dart that had been shot at me.
“The fuck…” I slurred, trying to stay awake and understand that I’d been hit with a sedative.
“Shit. He’s going down.”
“He was hit. Hold down on his shoulder.”
“Boss?”
“He’s bleeding too much.”
“Let’s go. We’ve got to take him in for help.”
The blur of concerned voices merged into a smear of sound. With the slowing pace of my heart and the lull of sleepiness tugging at my mind, I could barely make out what they were saying.
I had to know.
If Anya was alive. How many guards and soldiers might’ve been hit or killed. If any of these attackers were taken to be questioned.
So many questions raged in my mind, but as Andre caught me from falling to the floor, I closed my eyes, defenseless against the shot I’d taken and the drug they’d hit me with.