Chapter 15
VIKTOR
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Yuri doesn’t answer right away. He just jerks his head toward the rear exit and keeps walking.
That alone is enough to tell me this is not routine.
I follow him out through the side door and into the night.
The grounds are mostly dark now, the main paths lit by low garden lamps, the rest of the estate falling away into wet grass, hedges, and shadow.
The air is cold enough to wake me fully.
Somewhere in the distance, one of the security men is making his rounds.
Yuri leads me off the main terrace and around the side of the house, toward the stretch of lawn below the bridal wing. Only when we’re out of sight of the lit windows does he stop.
“Well?”
He reaches into his coat and holds something out in his palm.
For a second I don’t recognize it.
Then I do.
It’s a small black piece of metal. Narrow. Threaded.
A suppressor mount.
I look at him. “Where?”
“In the hedges below the east lawn,” he says. “One of the men found disturbed ground during patrol. Broken branches. Compressed grass. Good line of sight to the breakfast setup.”
I take the piece from him and turn it once between my fingers.
Cold. Real.
“Not old?” I ask.
“No.”
That’s enough. He doesn’t need to say the rest.
The poisoned champagne was a red herring.
He pulls out his phone and shows me two photos. The first is of a patch of earth behind the hedge line, partly hidden by low stone edging and wet leaves. The second is a closer shot. A heel print. Deep enough to hold shape in the mud. Hard to tell if it’s from a man or a woman.
I hand the phone back.
The house glows behind us through the trees, warm and elegant and full of liars.
Yuri says out loud what I was just thinking in my head. “Someone in the wedding party may try to kill you.”
I look back toward the east lawn.
At breakfast, I had a clear view of the tables, of the umbrellas, of Sienna moving between staff and guests. Whoever stood in that hedge had a clear view of me.
And if they were willing to try once in the middle of a wedding weekend, they may be willing to try again.
“Who knows?” I ask.
“Only me. Now you.”
I think of the timing. The panic. The ambulance. The argument in the hall. Too much confusion layered over too much emotion. A perfect day to hide intent inside chaos.
“Any sign of who was there?”
“Not yet. But this wasn’t some outsider hopping a wall for sport. Whoever took that position knew the estate, knew the layout, and knew when the lawn would be full.”
I nod once.
Family. Wedding party. Close staff.
Somebody with access.
I think about Ethan. Angry enough last night to talk about canceling the wedding. Weak enough to lash out when embarrassed. But not disciplined. Not patient. He doesn’t strike me as a man who waits in wet hedges with a firearm.
Camille? No stomach for it.
Which leaves too many other names.
“Double the watch,” I say. “Quietly. No panic. Nobody leaves without my knowing it.”
Yuri nods.
“I want a list of everyone in the house by morning. Family, bridal party, vendors, overnight staff, all of them.”
“Already being done.”
Good.
I rub my thumb over the metal in my hand once before giving it back to him.
“And tomorrow?” he asks.
“Tomorrow goes ahead.”
That gets his full attention. “Still?”
“Yes.”
“You think they’ll try again?”
“I think if they came prepared once, they didn’t do it for the exercise.”
He lets that sit for a moment. “And if tomorrow goes ahead?”
“Then everyone stays where I can see them.”
He nods slowly.
A gust of wind moves through the hedges, carrying damp earth and cut grass with it. Somewhere behind us, a door opens on the terrace and closes again.
Yuri looks back toward the house. “And her?”
I know who he means. “She stays close.”
“That won’t go unnoticed.”
“No.”
He waits. “There’s one more possibility.”
I look at him. “Say it.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “She arrived last minute,” he says.
“No one vetted her properly. She has access to staff routes, schedules, food service, room assignments. She knows where people are supposed to be and when. And she’s close enough to you now that no one would question her moving in and out of places they should. ”
I stare at him.
He keeps going, because Yuri has never confused loyalty with comfort. “You asked for possibilities. I’m giving you one.”
“No.”
Yuri takes that without flinching. “Based on what?”
I step toward him. “Based on my judgment.”
“Based on your cock,” he says flatly.
“You are out of line.”
“Maybe,” he says. “But I’m not wrong to raise it.”
I hold his gaze.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. Forcing me to separate instinct from fact. Forcing me to admit that wanting her safe is not the same thing as knowing she is.
“She was in the open all morning,” I say. “In front of everyone.”
“That proves nothing.”
“She had no reason to poison breakfast.”
“You don’t know what reason she has,” Yuri says. “You know what she’s told you. There’s a difference.”
I say nothing.
That, of course, is the problem. He sees it.
“She appears out of nowhere,” he says more quietly. “At your son’s wedding. Pregnant. Attached to old history with Ethan she won’t explain. In your bed within a day. And now we have one woman in the hospital and a firing position in the hedge.”
“She is not capable of this,” I say.
Yuri lifts a brow. “You know her that well?”
Yes, some ugly possessive part of me answers.
No, the rest of me knows better.
I drag a hand over my mouth and look back at the house.
I think of Sienna asleep in my room. Of the bruises on her wrist. Of the way she looked at the breakfast table when the girl went down. Of the fear in her face when she realized I was asking about the child. Of the fact that she still has secrets and I still don’t know how many.
“She’s frightened,” I say.
“So are plenty of dangerous people.”
I turn back to him. “You think she poisoned someone and then cried in my bed?”
“I think,” Yuri says, “that if someone wants to reach you, the most effective route is the one you stop guarding.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not saying she did it. I’m saying you can’t remove her from the board because you want her.”
The night goes very still.
There it is. The real accusation.
Not that Sienna is guilty.
That I am compromised.
I let the silence stretch before I answer. “If I thought she was part of it,” I say, “she would not be upstairs.”
Yuri watches me for a second, then nods once. “All right.” He doesn’t sound convinced. Just finished. “That doesn’t mean I stop watching,” he adds.
“No,” I say. “It doesn’t.”
We stand there for another moment, the house lit behind us, the hedge line dark ahead.
Then I say, “Watch everyone.”
Yuri’s mouth shifts slightly. “Including her.”
I look at him. “Quietly,” I say.
He nods and heads back toward the terrace.
I stay where I am. Because now I have two problems instead of one.
Someone in this wedding party may try to kill me.
And the one woman I don’t want touched by any of it is no longer a woman I can afford to trust blindly.