Chapter 5 - Misha
“Hold still, Misha.”
“I am holding still, Kliment. Please shut up.”
“You are constantly moving. I can see it from here.”
“I will probably be able to stay still if you stop threatening me every three seconds,” I said, keeping my voice level as the doctor pressed gauze just below the line of stitches along my side.
“It is not a threat,” he replied mildly. “It is simply an observation.”
“Then observe quietly and do not speak a word.”
A low sound, almost a laugh, came from somewhere behind him that sounded almost like Viktor.
Even the doctor had a smile on his face as he tried to focus on my wounds, but was clearly unable to because of the drama unfolding in the bedroom.
I did not turn my head, but I knew exactly where Kliment was standing.
He had not moved since the doctor began the examination.
His back was against the wall while his arms remained folded.
The only thing that mattered was how his eyes were on me the entire time.
He was dressed simply today. For the past few days, I had only seen him in his impeccably tailored suits, but he had ditched them for a polo and some khakis.
I could not deny that he was gorgeous. He looked a lot like his siblings, but his features were more intense.
I could never have thought I would ever find a Romanov attractive, but here I was, mostly unable to take my eyes off of Kliment Romanov.
Hence, it felt safer when he maintained his distance from me.
Watching. Always watching.
The room itself was too quiet. It was not empty, but quiet in a way that felt deliberate. There was never any noise from outside and no footsteps in the hallways. Just the soft rustle of medical supplies and the steady rhythm of my own breathing.
It had been nine days.
Nine days since the warehouse. Nine days since I had nearly died on a concrete floor that smelled like blood and fear.
Nine days since Kliment Romanov had stepped out of the shadows and rewritten the outcome of that night.
Nine days inside his world, tucked safely in the shadows of his warehouse that was hidden at the edges of nowhere.
The doctor peeled back the last layer of dressing carefully, exposing the stitched wound along my side.
The air hit it cold and sharp, but I did not flinch.
“The entry and exit points are clean,” he said. “I can see no signs of infection, and healing is progressing well. Good job, Misha.”
“I told you. I would have felt it if I were infected,” I said with a smile.
“Your intuition is certainly a reliable source of your own condition, but we must still check for confirmation,” the doctor replied.
I nodded and exhaled slowly through my nose. Behind him, Kliment shifted slightly as if trying to look at the stitches himself.
“Is she healing properly?” he asked.
His voice was calm and even, but I felt as if there was something beneath it. Something quieter and sharper. Almost possessive. A part of me said that I was probably just imagining it, but I couldn’t say for sure. After all, why would Kliment Romanov have any possessive inclinations towards me?
The doctor glanced back briefly. “Yes. The gunshot wound is healing as expected. The graze along her arm is superficial and nothing to worry about. The bruising along the ribs will take more time to go away, but is not concerning.”
“And the foot?” Kliment asked.
The doctor reached down, carefully adjusting the brace wrapped around my ankle.
“As I told you earlier, it is a minor fracture,” he said. “Even though it is nothing severe, it will take time to heal. But with limited movement, it should heal fully within a few weeks, and you will be able to walk again properly.”
“I don’t intend to stay immobile for weeks,” I said.
“You intend many things,” the doctor replied dryly. “That does not make them advisable.”
“I’ve been walking around already.”
“Yes, but poorly and with the help of crutches. It would be better if you quit doing that and stayed in bed completely. It will help with the healing.”
“I’ve been walking just fine,” I insisted
Kliment’s gaze shifted to me, sharp and unimpressed.
“I’ve noticed you walking around, and I can assure you it is anything but fine,” he said.
I met his gaze sharply. “And yet I’m still standing.”
“For now.”
Something in his tone made my pulse shift slightly. I wasn’t afraid of him challenging me, but something about him was so silently assessing and measuring that I couldn't wrap my head around it. The doctor rewrapped the bandage along my side, movements precise and efficient.
“Please remember to not put any unnecessary strain,” he said. “No sudden movement and no physical exertion until it heals fully.”
“That’s not realistic, doc,” I replied. “I have work to do.”
“And you will do it,” he said calmly, “once your body is capable of supporting it.”
I didn’t answer because we both knew I would not wait that long. Even Kliment knew that. The doctor finished securing the final bandage before stepping back.
“She is recovering well,” he said to Kliment. “But she needs time.”
Time. The one thing I did not have. I had already wasted nine days, and I did not know how many more I could waste before it got too much. I was already beginning to get restless.
Kliment nodded once. “That will be all.”
The doctor gathered his things without another word. He did not ask questions and did not linger. He left the room as quietly as he had entered, and the door closed behind him, leaving silence to settle around me again. I adjusted slightly on the edge of the bed, ignoring the pull along my side.
“You’re improving,” Kliment said.
“I know.”
“But you’re still not ready to leave and get back to everything.”
“I disagree.”
“You’re not in a position to disagree.”
I looked at him fully then. “I am always in a position to disagree.”
Something flickered in his expression. It was not irritation but something closer to interest.
“You push me too far,” he said.
“I push exactly where I need to.”
His gaze dropped briefly to the bandage along my side and the brace on my foot before returning to my face.
“The only reason you are not dead today is pure luck,” he said quietly. “But in our world, we shouldn’t test our luck too much. Remember that.”
“It wasn’t luck,” I said. “It was a calculation that didn’t account for numbers.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “And if I hadn’t been there?”
I held his gaze. “But you were.”
He turned and walked out of the room without another word, the door closing behind him with a soft, controlled click.
And just like that, the room was mine again.
I waited until a full minute passed by, quietly listening to the sounds around me.
There was nothing. No footsteps outside the door and no guards shifting position.
There was no indication that anyone was stationed directly outside.
Kliment wasn’t keeping me prisoner here, and I knew that, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t being watched.
It just meant the surveillance was better hidden.
I slid off the bed slowly, careful of my side, and adjusted my weight onto my uninjured leg before reaching for the crutches leaning against the wall.
Movement still hurt, but the pain was manageable.
I crossed the room deliberately, each step measured, until I reached the chair near the window where my jacket had been left.
It was untouched and exactly where I had placed it days ago when I had first entered this room.
I knew no one had searched it. I slipped my hand into the inner lining, fingers brushing along the seam until I felt it.
A thin, concealed slit. I pressed lightly, and the stitching gave way just enough.
With one final tug, the device slid into my palm.
My second burner. I turned it on, and the screen flickered to life silently.
There was no signal at first, but I waited patiently until a connection was finally made.
I opened the encrypted interface and selected the first contact.
Sera.
The line rang once. Twice. Three times. But there was nothing.
My jaw tightened slightly, and I ended the call before trying again, but I got the same result.
Sera always answered, which was enough to tell me that something wasn’t right.
I did not allow the concern to settle because concern slowed you down, and right now, I needed answers.
Instead, I moved to the next option.
Diane White.
The line connected on the second ring.
“Hello?”
Her voice was cautious and alert, exactly as it should be.
“It’s me,” I said.
A sharp inhale on the other end.
“Misha?”
“Yes.”
“You’re alive.”
“Obviously.”
“Where the hell have you been?”
“I have been unavailable.”
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting right now.”
“The last time any of us heard from you or of you was when you went to the docks. We have been worried sick looking for you everywhere. What happened there?”
“It was a setup.”
“Of course it was,” Diane muttered. “I told Sera it felt wrong.”
“Where is Sera?” I asked.
Another pause.
“She was looking for you but has gone quiet. Now that I know you are fine, I will start looking for her as well.”
My grip on the device tightened. “How quiet?”
“Off-grid,” Diane said. “No contact in three days.”
That was not good. Not good at all.
“Any chatter about what happened at the docks?” I asked.
“Some,” she replied. “There’s talk about a failed containment attempt at the docks. There have been no names or details. Just that something went wrong, and people didn’t walk away from it alive. No one knows who did it.”
“Good.”
“Good?” she repeated. “Misha, they’re looking for whoever caused that mess. Was it you? Did you kill all those people?”
“I didn’t, but none of it matters. They won’t find me.”
“Where are you?” she asked again, but I shook my head even though I knew she couldn’t see it.
I couldn’t reveal my location to anyone.
Not yet anyway. It wasn’t as if I didn’t trust my team because I did.
It was just because none of them trusted Kliment Romanov anyway, and I had no desire to worry them unreasonably.
“I’m safe. That’s all that matters.
“Are you injured?”
“I am, but it’s manageable now.”
“How bad?”
“Not bad enough to stop me or this mission.”
Diane exhaled slowly.
“You’re impossible. Alright, tell me, what do you need?” she finally asked, switching into her role at once.
“Make sure to pause all movement,” I said. “No new contacts. No active inquiries. Just listen.”
“For what?”
“For any mention of the symbol,” I said. “Any reference to rerouted shipments. Any sign that they’re adjusting patterns after the docks?”
“And Sera?”
“If she reaches out, you tell me immediately.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
I didn’t answer that because we both knew what it could mean.
“I’ll find her,” Diane said quietly.
“No,” I replied. “You won’t. Let her come back on her own. I am sure she will.”
“Just… don’t disappear again,” she said.
“I won’t.”
It wasn’t a promise, but it was enough. I ended the call, and the device went dark in my hand.
For a moment, I stood there, staring at my reflection in the closed window.
I looked pale and bruised, but I knew I was healing.
The garden outside stretched wide and quiet, trimmed hedges and clean lines that spoke of control.
Of order. Of a world that functioned exactly as it was meant to.
I shifted my weight slightly, adjusting on the crutches, and moved closer to the glass.
I was sure my family would be looking for me already.
I had wanted to ask Kliment about it, but a part of me didn’t really want to know.
After what happened with Elisse, they would be losing their minds even more, but at least they would know I had left myself.
This wasn’t a kidnapping. But I couldn’t go back.
Not right now. I rested my hand lightly against the window, eyes scanning the perimeter automatically.
I had mapped almost everything here by the second day.
Healing had never meant pausing but simply recalculating. And even though Kliment Romanov was the reason I was alive, I could not let my guard down even around him.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t stay still.”
His voice came from behind me, low and measured, but I didn’t turn around immediately.
“I wasn’t moving much,” I said.
“This is more than enough.”
I glanced over my shoulder and noticed him standing in the doorway, watching me the same way he always did. Like I was something he hadn’t decided how to handle yet.
“Who were you calling?” he asked, immediately making me nervous.
“Eavesdropping?” I asked, making sure to keep my expression unreadable.
His eyes flicked briefly to the device in my hand.
“Who were you calling, Misha?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“It becomes my concern if it affects what happens next. You are on my property.”
“It won’t affect you in any way.”
He stepped into the room slowly. “You’re planning something.”
“I’m always planning something.”
“But this isn’t something minor.”
“No,” I agreed. “It isn’t.”
“Do you want to leave now? Return home, perhaps? I know you have not been asking, but your brothers are losing their minds looking for you,” he asked, and I tilted my head slightly as if mulling over the question.
“Not yet,” I replied.
Something in his expression shifted. It was subtle, but it was there.
“You’ve decided that,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I held his gaze.
“Because right now,” I said evenly, “this is the most strategic place for me to be.”
A beat.
“And me?” he asked quietly. “Where do I fit into that strategy?”
“You don’t,” I said. “Not yet.”
That time, he didn’t look away.
And neither did I.
Because whatever this was, it wasn’t simple.
And it wasn’t over.
Not even close.