Chapter 34 #2
“Your blood pressure is elevated again.”
I can’t stop the growl that falls from my lips, and I close my eyes, taking in a measured breath. “It’s been elevated for weeks, Andrei.”
“This is higher.” He adjusts my IV drip, no doubt increasing the medication dose slightly. “Try to rest. Doctor’s orders.”
What the fuck does he think I’m doing?
“Difficult to rest when you’re flying toward a confrontation with a psychopathic Russian mobster,” I mutter, but with a look from Roman, which tells me I’m being a grumpy bitch, I lean my seat back obediently as Andrei walks off towards the cockpit.
Hunter appears from the front cabin. His wounded side has finally healed enough that he’s only got a small bandage which is hidden under his T-shirt, which clings to his muscles and has heat curling in my core.
Fucking pregnancy hormones. Murderous rage one moment, complete hussy the next.
He nods to Roman, who relinquishes his seat without comment, going to the one on the opposite side of the plane and sitting next to Bubby, who once again is white-knuckling the armrests. Poor kid.
“Captain says we’re cleared all the way to UK airspace,” Hunter tells me, leaning forward and taking my hand. Damn, he’s too pretty. “No flight plan anomalies, no unusual air traffic communications.”
“So we’re safe for now?” I question, the tight band encasing my chest easing just slightly. Though I know better than to fully believe it. Sergi is a master at lulling us into a false sense of security, only to jump out like a fucking clown and yell surprise. I fucking hate clowns, creepy bastards.
Hunter’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, the skin around them bunching. “As safe as anyone can be when they’re challenging Sergi Petrov, but yes, this part of the journey is secure.”
I study his face, the new lines around his eyes, the hardness that hadn’t been there before the island.
All of us have changed in these past weeks—becoming sharper, more focused, the unspoken fear for me, for Nik, and our baby driving us to extra levels of vigilance.
I can’t help but wonder what will be left once this is finally over.
Will we even recognise each other? Or will we be changed beyond repair, moulded into creatures who don’t know how to live without fear, without that ever present anxiety that someone is coming for us?
“Have you heard from Nik today?” I ask to distract the morbid turn of my thoughts.
A flicker of something—frustration? worry?—crosses Hunter’s face before he controls it. “Brief message this morning. They’re in position, preparing for our arrival.”
“But?” I press, sensing the unspoken concern, my stomach churning.
Hunter hesitates, then sighs. “But he’s taking risks. Rowan says they’re planning some kind of reconnaissance tonight, at what they believe is one of Sergi’s medical facilities.”
Fear tightens around my heart, the monitor beeping faster in response. “They’re deliberately getting close to Sergi? Before we even arrive?”
Stupid fucking men!
“Nik believes it’s necessary intelligence gathering,” Hunter says, his tone making it clear that he doesn’t agree, but what can any of us do? We are not with them, and this is precisely the reason I didn’t want to split up. “Rowan will keep him in check.”
“Like he’s not just as bloodthirsty and fucking crazy to want to hurt Sergi?
” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice.
The separation had been Nik’s idea—divide our group to divert Sergi’s attention.
Then he took Rowan, leaving Hunter and Roman to protect me.
It was a tactical decision that feels more like abandonment with each passing day.
Hunter squeezes my hand, his emerald eyes locked onto mine. “Nik knows what he’s doing, Iris. He always has.” His jaw is tight, and I know he hates this as much as I do, if not a little more. Hunt needs to be in control, needs to know that he’s able to protect us all, and right now, he’s not.
“That’s what scares me, Daddy,” I whisper. “He’s always had to deal with Sergi alone, and yes, he can play angles we don’t even see, but what if this time he’s miscalculated? What if Sergi is expecting exactly this move?”
Before Hunter can answer, Andrei emerges from the cockpit, his face grim. “We have a problem. Singapore Air Traffic Control just contacted us with an urgent security notification. Someone filed a flight plan identical to ours, departing thirty minutes after we did.”
My heart jolts inside my chest, bile stinging the back of my throat.
Hunter gets on his feet instantly. “Coincidence?”
“Not likely,” Andrei replies, his brows low. “Same aircraft type, similar call sign. They’re shadowing us.”
“Sergi,” I breathe out, one hand going protectively to my belly as my breaths shorten, the feeling of the walls getting smaller making my vision blur at the edges.
Hunter’s expression hardens. “Change course. Now. Roman!”
Hunter and Andrei hurry toward the cockpit, but the plane banks sharply, sending medical equipment sliding. I grip the armrests, feeling the baby kick vigorously in protest at the sudden movement.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to my unborn son, unsure if I’m trying to convince the child or myself. “We’re almost there. Almost safe.”
Roman is suddenly in the seat next to me, buckling in and grabbing my hand.
“Nothing will happen to you or our baby, Princess,” he vows, his brown eyes serious and currently the only thing anchoring me here and keeping the panic attack from overwhelming me. “I swear it. We will protect you both. He will not have you.”
But as the plane continues its evasive turn, the medical monitors start beeping in alarm around me, no doubt because of my current stress levels.
I knew safety was still a distant hope. Between what feels like my failing health and Sergi’s relentless pursuit, simply reaching London alive would be victory enough for now.
The actual battle—the one Nik and Alexei have been planning for months—still lies ahead. New Year’s Eve. The night that will determine all our fates.