Chapter 38
Kirill
Kolya, Alexei, and I remain in the office with the ghosts, left to guard the bones of what just happened as a dead woman with lively eyes watches over us.
Heavy silence, old leather, and electricity lace the air.
Roman and Vanya disappeared together, already spinning their plans into motion.
Igor vanished, his face hollowed by the knowledge of what he’d done to and what will become of his son.
Mikhail followed, his exit a barely controlled snarl.
Max? Gone, long before, all bottled violence and silent grief. Sasha was…
I can’t even finish the sentence.
For Max, this is another brother lost.
Now, there’s just the three of us who have already done our parts to track down clues.
We stand at the window as the sky lightens. The black of night fades to charcoal gray, warning of the impending sunrise.
Despite everything getting brighter, despite knowing I’ve completed my mission, my mind still circles. The anxiety in my gut grows.
My eyes drift to the smooth spot on the desk where the gift box sat, the edges burned into memory.
Everything leads back to the inexorable pull of the island.
Vanya’s not the best at getting out of traps, but he’s good at avoiding them.
I wonder if he sees energies too. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at sussing people out and making them like him.
Like Jordan. I’d left her with a room full of quiet potential. A bribe in the form of new equipment. I picked every piece to work together, intent on offering her a solid foundation on which to build an easier life.
I told myself it was about protection. That I was sparing her this world, these nightmares.
The truth was too much to face.
“She called us broken.” I don’t mean to say the words aloud. They just spill out.
Kolya pivots, his shoulder pressed to the window. “The content creator?”
“Specifically, she’s a podcaster and wellness influencer.
Jordan.” She isn’t a thing or evidence or leverage.
She’s Jordan Elizabeth Thorne. The woman who didn’t glance away from my scars or flinch from the monster underneath.
The woman I fucked and abandoned like all the rest, except none of them were ever really mine to begin with.
Not the way she was.
Kolya nods once. He understands.
Of course he does.
His own woman endured the same cross fire. Worse, Gio’s men kidnapped her. Kolya recruited the rest of us to get her back. And we did.
Then we mocked him for falling for a woman when we all know forming affection is the fastest way to the grave.
Still, he went back for her. He built a home, a barricade, and dragged her into his shadow just to keep her safe.
Yet I left Jordan alone, deluding myself by insisting that distance could be armor.
Alexei stands on the other side of Kolya, his hands folded, his wedding band gleaming on his ring finger. “Was she wrong?”
My mouth tightens.
No, of course not.
Why bother pretending? We all know what and who we are. Even these two men who’ve found love with partners that they will move mountains to keep safe. Women who’ve been welcomed into the family, who come to Sunday dinners, who know who Kolya and Alexei are and accept them anyway.
Them.
Us.
The earth shifts beneath me. For nearly two weeks, I fought the undertow, convinced that wanting her was weakness, that maybe I had nothing left in me worth saving.
But she peered through the surface and called me out.
Saw me for what I am.
And still she stayed. She warned me, shielded me, and saved my life. She pressed against me, breath on my skin, and met my gaze without blinking.
“Was she wrong?” Alexei repeats himself, leaning forward to glance around Kolya. They’re both staring, damned knowing smiles on their faces.
I want to deny it, just because of who asked.
But I can’t.
“Of course she wasn’t. She knew what I was from the jump. You heard my report. I kidnapped her. Killed people right in front of her. She flinched but never looked away.” I remember how she tried to rewrite reality into something less traumatic.
Shit. I’m an idiot. That was all a mask. Making me think she was too spacey to be a threat. Or a witness. She was playing me from the beginning. It wasn’t until I stopped trying to break her that she finally opened up.
And wanted to be with me.
The lump of kholodno in my chest, leftover from my childhood, thaws. A new shape forms out of old ache.
Maybe I’m not just the weapon Roman crafted. Maybe giving our relationship a shot is worth the risk.
For her.
The restless past lingers, but Jordan is out there, alone, her only shield the miles I put between us.
I ball my hands into fists.
“Where is she?” Valeria Kozlov, Mikhail’s daughter, looms in the doorway. She wasn’t there two seconds ago.
The untouchable princess of the house. She shines with too much radiance for this place and what we represent.
Valeria’s expensive black dress shimmers in the light.
She has her wavy brown hair yanked back, piled high on her head.
Her hazel eyes scan the room, unsettled.
She doesn’t belong here—not in this dark, heavy air—but she’s as stubborn as the rest of us.
I flick my hand at nothing, brushing away the question. Jordan’s gone. That’s all that matters now. The details won’t change a thing.
Valeria, though, doesn’t back down. “Did you like her?”
I tighten my jaw and avert my gaze.
There’s no answer for that. No vocabulary for whatever Jordan means to me, for my feelings for her.
“Like” is a watered-down thing. Jordan came in like a storm and upended everything. Tore through my walls. Saw the mess and wanted more.
“Like” is not even close to what I feel for her.
My twitching expression must answer for me. Valeria’s eyes dart to Alexei and Kolya before returning to me. “Did you love her?”
My hands close to fists, nails digging deep.
There.
The word I’ve refused to examine.
Love.
As if any syllable could contain what Jordan did to my head, my chest, or my pulse. Not just because of her body, but also her laugh. Her gaze. The way she saw through every inch of me. The way she made me yearn for things I shouldn’t even think about.
“She didn’t belong with me.” I seek help from Alexei and Kolya. They both owe me, yet they just grin at me like useless dolts. “I’m all bad. She’s…all good.”
Jordan’s light and honesty. Even when she gets lost in her crystal woo-woo and all that manifestation crap, underneath, she’s more real than I’ve been in years.
Me? I’m the weapon. The animal. The monster. The Shark. I exist to destroy on command. No room for clarity or softness for people like us.
Valeria frowns. “Did you ask her what she wanted? Or did you just tell her what you decided for the both of you?”
Neither.
I didn’t say anything about that.
Why talk about things that will never exist?
But Valeria…
I held her when she was a baby. Not for long, but still, I was present. I watched her grow up. She’s still just a sheltered kid. What does she know about anything? She spends her days browsing social media and choosing which outfit to party in.
But she’s got this right. She sees what I did and knows me well enough to guess.
I didn’t save Jordan by leaving. I didn’t protect her from anything. I handled her and made the decision myself. I treated her like another asset, as someone to manage.
Then, as soon as things got dangerous, I walked away.
I told her where to go, how to act, and what to feel. Built a box and locked her in.
I went back to being exactly what she called me in the beginning.
Loner. Controller. Shark.
After being so much more, I couldn’t believe it and bolted instead of trying.
I wasn’t noble. I was scared. I didn’t run away to help her, but because I couldn’t accept needing anyone that much.
Kolya, Valeria, and Alexei just watch silently as I leave the room and march down the hall to the front door. No time for second-guessing.
In the front hall, Roman, Igor, and Vanya huddle, plans of war in their voices.
Roman shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop Vanya.
“No. Being a donor might get you in, but it also affixes our names to the building and gets the IRS involved. We’re not doing that.
Use your charm to get in and not my money, which will trigger a tax audit.
Or worse, give that detective another lead to follow. ”
Vanya huffs before straightening. “It will take longer, but I’ll start learning who I need to get close to. Then I’ll head out.”
I don’t break my stride. I just cut through with my head down, aiming for the only thing that matters anymore.
When Roman glances my way, I speak without stopping.
“I’m going to get her.”
Roman nods. One sharp motion. “Go.”
That’s all the encouragement I need.