Chapter 19 Alexi
ALEXI
Iris sleeps curled against my chest, her breathing finally even after the nightmares that plagued her earlier. I should sleep too, but my mind races through possibilities, strategies, and digital pathways.
Morrison. Sentinel Operations. Project Nightshade.
The pieces don’t fit together cleanly, which means we’re missing something crucial. I pull my arm carefully from beneath Iris and grab my phone from the nightstand.
3:47 AM. Nikolai will be awake—he rarely sleeps more than four hours.
I slip out of bed, pulling on sweatpants before padding into my office. The city sprawls below, streetlights creating geometric patterns against the darkness.
My brother answers on the second ring.
“This better be good.”
“I need your help.” I keep my voice low, so I don’t wake Iris. “But you’re not going to like it.”
Silence stretches between us. Then: “Where are you?”
“My place.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He hangs up before I can respond.
I spend the time pulling together everything Iris found—Morrison’s payments, the Sentinel connections, the doctored accident reports. By the time Nikolai’s security code beeps at my door, I have three monitors displaying different aspects of the conspiracy.
My brother walks in, still wearing his suit from whatever late-night meeting he attended. His steel-gray eyes take in the screens, then narrow on me.
“Start talking.”
“The Phantom is Iris Mitchell.” I let the confession hang in the air. “And she’s been in my bed for the past three nights.”
Nikolai’s expression doesn’t change, but his fingers curl slightly—the only tell that I’ve surprised him.
“The same Phantom who’s been screwing us for eight months?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re fucking her because...?”
“Because I’m obsessed with her.” The truth comes easier than I expected. “Because she’s brilliant and damaged and the only person who’s ever matched me. Because her parents were murdered by a government black ops program, and she thought we did it.”
“We didn’t.”
“I know that. She knows that now, too.” I gesture to the screens. “But someone wanted her to think we did. Someone with connections deep enough to orchestrate a hit and make it look like a mechanical failure.”
Nikolai moves closer to the monitors, scanning the information with the analytical precision that made him dangerous. He reads everything in seconds; his photographic memory processes details faster than most people can speak.
“Sentinel Operations.” He taps one screen. “CIA front company. Handles wet work the agency can’t officially touch.”
“Can we infiltrate their systems?”
“We?” Nikolai’s eyes cut to me. “You mean you and the woman who’s been stealing from us?”
“She’s good, Nik. Better than good. We need her.”
“Need is a strong word.”
“She lost her parents to these people. They’ve been watching her for years, waiting to see if she gets too close to the truth.
” I pull up Morrison’s financial records.
“This agent has been bleeding Sentinel for payments since Iris started digging. She accidentally breached Project Nightshade yesterday.”
Nikolai’s jaw tightens. “What kind of breach?”
“Full access to classified archives. She covered her tracks, but they know someone got in.”
“Then she’s already dead.” He says it with the clinical detachment of someone who’s seen too many bodies. “They’ll move on her within forty-eight hours.”
“Not if we move first.”
“We?” He turns to face me fully. “Alexi, this isn’t some cybersecurity issue we can patch. You’re talking about going after a government black ops program that’s already killed her parents and won’t hesitate to kill her—and anyone helping her.”
“I know what I’m asking.”
“Do you?” Nikolai steps closer, and I see the calculation in his eyes—weighing risks. “Because once we commit to this, there’s no backing out. The family becomes involved. Dmitri, Erik, and their women. Everyone.”
My chest tightens. I’ve spent years being the wild card, the brother who solves digital problems while staying safely behind screens. Now I’m asking my family to take on enemies who specialize in making people disappear.
“I love her.”
The words surprise me as much as they surprise Nikolai. His eyebrows lift fractionally.
“You’ve slept with her for three days.”
“And I’ve been obsessed with her every second since she first breached our systems.” I hold his gaze. “She’s mine, Nik. Mine to protect, mine to keep. I’m not letting them take her.”
Nikolai studies me for a long moment. Then he crosses to my desk and picks up my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Dmitri and Erik. If we’re doing this, everyone needs to know what they’re signing up for.” He pauses with his thumb over the screen. “And Alexi? She stays here from now on. Your penthouse is the most secure location we have outside the estate.”
“She won’t like that.”
“She doesn’t get a choice. Not anymore.”
Nikolai makes the calls while I return to monitoring Iris’s security systems. She rebuilt them well—better than my initial patches—but nothing’s impenetrable. Especially not to an organization with government resources.
Dmitri arrives first, looking annoyed at being summoned at four in the morning. Erik follows ten minutes later, his military training evident in how he automatically positions himself near the door, threat assessment mode engaged.
“This better be fucking important,” Dmitri mutters, pouring himself vodka from my bar.
“Alexi’s in love with the hacker who’s been screwing us,” Nikolai says flatly.
Erik’s gaze sharpens on me. Dmitri nearly chokes on his drink.
“The Phantom?” Dmitri sets down his glass. “You’re joking.”
“Her name is Iris.” I pull up her photo on the main monitor. “And she’s been targeting us because she thought we killed her parents.”
“Did we?” Erik’s voice is quiet, dangerous.
“No. But a CIA front company did, and they’ve been watching her ever since.” I walk them through everything—Morrison, Sentinel Operations, Project Nightshade.
Dmitri leans against my desk, processing. “So, you want us to go to war with a government black ops program because you’re fucking their target?”
“Because she’s mine,” I snap. “And they’re going to kill her if we don’t act first.”
“When did you become this reckless?” Dmitri looks genuinely baffled. “You’ve always been the smart one, Alexi. The one who thinks before he acts.”
“I am thinking. I’m thinking that if we let them take her, I’ll spend the rest of my life hunting everyone involved.” My hands curl into fists. “And that won’t be clean or strategic. It’ll be bloody.”
Erik moves from his position by the door. “Show me the agent.”
I pull up Morrison’s file. Erik studies it with the focused intensity of someone who’s memorized countless enemy profiles.
“Former CIA field operative, reassigned to domestic intelligence three years ago.” Erik’s finger traces the timeline. “Same time Iris started her investigation. That’s not a coincidence.”
“No,” Nikolai agrees. “It’s containment. They put Morrison in position to monitor her.”
“And if she gets too close?” Dmitri asks.
“Then Morrison activates whatever asset they have waiting.” Erik’s jaw tightens. “Standard protocol for classified exposure.”
The office door opens, and Iris stands there wearing one of my T-shirts and nothing else. Her platinum hair is sleep-mussed, ice-blue eyes sharp despite the hour.
“What’s going on?”
Four pairs of eyes turn to her. She doesn’t flinch under the scrutiny, which earns my grudging respect for my brothers.
“Family meeting,” I say, crossing to her.
“About me, apparently.” She looks past me to the monitors displaying her parents’ files. “You called them.”
“They needed to know what we’re dealing with.”
Dmitri’s laugh cuts through the tension. “This is the Phantom? She looks like she should be modeling lingerie, not breaking into our servers.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Iris says coolly.
“Clearly.” Erik’s assessing gaze moves between us. “She’s been in your bed how long?”
“Three days,” I say before Iris can respond.
“Three days, and you’re calling emergency family meetings?” Dmitri grins. “That’s got to be a record, even for you.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, seriously.” Dmitri settles more comfortably against my desk. “You’ve known her for what, a week total? And already you’re dragging us into a war with government black ops?”
“I’ve known her for eight months since I started chasing her.” The correction comes sharper than intended.
“Knowing how someone hacks isn’t the same as knowing them,” Erik points out.
Iris steps further into the room. “He’s right. He doesn’t know me.”
“I know you lost your parents when you were sixteen. I know you take sleeping pills for nightmares and drink too much coffee and name all your systems after constellations.” I hold her gaze. “I know you’re terrified right now, but too stubborn to show it.”
Her throat works with a swallow.
“That’s still just data,” Dmitri says. “Doesn’t explain why she’s in your bed.”
“Because I put her there,” I snap.
“And she stayed because...?”
“Because the alternative was going home to an apartment Morrison probably already has surveillance on.” Iris crosses her arms. “Though I’m starting to think that might have been safer.”
Her words slice deeper than any code could. After everything we shared—the nightmares, the confessions, the raw vulnerability—she’s reducing this to convenience and safety calculations.
“Right.” I turn back to the monitors. “Safer. That’s what this is about.”
“Alexi—”
“No, I get it. You needed a secure location. Mission accomplished.”
Silence stretches behind me. I feel my brothers’ eyes on us, witnessing what I never let anyone see—the crack in my armor.
“I’m going home.” Iris’s voice cuts through the tension. “I need to talk to Maya anyway.”
I spin around. “That makes her complicit. The moment you tell her what you found, she becomes a target.”
“She already knows everything about my search.” Iris doesn’t back down despite four Ivanov men staring at her. “She’s been helping me for two years. Every breach, every file I pulled on you and your family—Maya knew.”
“Then she’s already dead,” Nikolai says flatly.
“No.” Iris’s hands curl into fists. “She’s careful. She doesn’t leave traces.”
“Neither did you, supposedly.” Dmitri gestures to the screens showing Morrison’s surveillance logs. “And yet here we are.”
“Maya is my best friend. The only family I have left.” Iris’s voice shakes slightly. “I’m not abandoning her because you think it’s too dangerous.”
“It’s not about what we think,” Erik says quietly. “It’s about what they’ll do when they realize you breached Nightshade.”
“Then I’ll warn her. Tell her to disappear for a while.”
“And if Morrison’s already watching her apartment?” I step closer. “If they’re waiting to see who you contact after the breach?”
Iris meets my gaze. “I can’t just leave her in the dark, Alexi. She deserves to know what’s coming.”
“What’s coming is a bullet if you lead them straight to her.”
“So, what, I’m just supposed to stay here? Let you and your brothers handle everything while I hide behind your name?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck that.” She turns toward the bedroom. “I’m getting dressed and going home.”
I grab her wrist, pulling her back. “You walk out that door, you’re risking both of your lives.”
“I’ll text you later.”
She pulls free, disappearing into my bedroom. The sound of her gathering clothes punctuates the silence—fabric rustling, a zipper sliding, the soft thud of shoes hitting the floor.
My brothers watch me, waiting to see what I’ll do.
My instincts demand that I follow her and pin her against the wall, bind her wrists, and keep her here where I can protect her. She’s mine. Mine to guard, mine to control, mine to—
“You going to let her walk?” Dmitri asks.
I stare at the closed bedroom door. The physical ache of restraining myself feels like strings pulling taut, ready to snap.
Iris emerges five minutes later, fully dressed in the black jeans and fitted top she wore yesterday. Her platinum hair is pulled back, ice-blue eyes carefully blank.
She doesn’t look at me as she heads for the door.
“Iris.”
She pauses, hand on the knob.
“Your phone. Give it to me.”
Now she turns, eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?”
“If Morrison’s tracking your communications, you’re broadcasting your location every second you keep it on.” I hold out my hand. “Unless you want to lead them straight to Maya.”
Her jaw tightens, but she pulls the phone from her pocket and tosses it to me. “Satisfied?”
“No.”
Something flickers in her expression—hurt, maybe, or anger. Hard to tell through the walls she’s rebuilding between us.
“I’ll get a burner. Contact you in a few hours.”
“Don’t.” Nikolai steps forward. “If you need to communicate, use an encrypted channel Alexi sets up. Anything else is compromised.”
Iris nods once, then walks out.
The door clicks shut behind her with devastating finality.
“You’re just going to let her go?” Erik’s tone carries no judgment, only curiosity.
I move to the window, watching the street below. Iris emerges from the building, her small frame moving quickly toward the parking garage.
“I don’t know how high the threat is right now.” The admission costs me. “Morrison could be sitting on the breach, waiting to see what she does next. Or Sentinel could already be moving assets into position.”
“Then you let her walk into potential crosshairs,” Dmitri says.
“No.” I track Iris’s movement until she disappears. “I gave her enough rope to either hang herself or prove she can handle this.”
My chest feels hollow. Wrong.