Chapter 13 - Misha #2
We both finally stepped outside, back in action.
The house had changed since I had turned it into the headquarters for my operation.
It was no longer a place we were hiding in.
It had become something else entirely. A center of operation and a space that pulsed with quiet purpose.
Everyone moved with awareness now. With precision.
Even around him. Especially around him.
The earlier distrust for Kliment had ended completely, and everyone knew he was as much a part of this operation as they were. No one underestimated him either. No one could. He was the kind of man who left no room for his decision to be questioned. That mattered more than anything.
I stepped into the main room, already focused.
“What do we have?”
Diane turned her laptop towards me immediately. “We have a confirmed movement.”
Sera leaned against the table, arms crossed and expression sharp. “But it’s not Volkov.”
“Of course not,” I said. “He doesn’t move unless he has to. He has his minions doing the jobs for him.”
“Exactly,” she replied. “I think we have found one of the minions.”
Viktor stepped forward then, placing a file down on the table. He, too, had become part of the planning.
“This is your target.”
I looked down at the name before me. Anton Sidorov.
The name settled quickly. Sidorov was young, somewhere in his mid-thirties, and rising fast in bratva circles.
That was worth noting since he was not Bratva-born, which meant that he was ambitious enough to be dangerous and cruel enough to be effective.
I scanned the details, my mind already moving ahead.
“He’s in Miami,” I said.
“For now,” Viktor confirmed. “He’s overseeing redistribution at the docks because it seems as if Volkov is expanding control.”
“When is he moving?” Kliment asked, standing beside me.
“Within the week,” Viktor said. “He’s not staying long.”
That decided it. I straightened slightly, meeting Sera’s gaze first. Then Diane’s. Then the rest of them.
“I’m leading this.”
There was no hesitation in my voice, and clearly room for argument.
Sera didn’t even blink. “Obviously.”
Diane nodded once. “You have all of our support, Misha.”
“I know.”
Alina spoke from the side, quiet but firm. “I’ll handle the surveillance so we have the latest intel.”
“Good.”
I turned slightly then, my gaze landing on Kliment. He had been silent until now, watching, assessing.
“Can you take care of the logistics and getting us more men to accompany us in the operation?” I asked.
He nodded once. “Consider it handled.”
That was it. No questioning. No overprotection. No attempt to take control. Just alignment and quiet agreement. Something in my chest tightened at that because this was what mattered way more than I expected it to.
“Thank you,” I replied quietly, and he smiled.
The rest of the day blurred into preparation as my team continued to map all possible routes and timings.
We marked entry points and exit contingencies.
Every variable was accounted for, layered, and reworked.
This wasn’t just another move. This was a shift.
It was true that Anton Sidorov wasn’t Volkov, but he was close enough to matter. Close enough to break something open.
By the time night settled, the house had quieted again. It was not empty, just still. I found Kliment in the kitchen as he leaned back against the counter, sleeves rolled, a glass in his hand he hadn’t touched. His gaze lifted the second I stepped in.
“You’re going to push your foot too far,” he said. “The brave is off, but please be careful.
I glanced down briefly, then back at him. “It’s holding. I truly do feel better.”
“For now.”
“For long enough.”
He didn’t argue. He never argued when I was certain. I crossed the room slowly, stopping just in front of him. There was a different kind of quiet now. The kind which wasn’t laced with conflict and tension.
“Do you trust me to handle this?” I asked.
It wasn’t insecurity but just my need for clarity.
His gaze held mine for a long moment, and then he set the glass aside, stepping forward towards me.
His hand came to my jaw, tilting my face up slightly as he kissed me.
His mouth was slow and certain. He wasn’t demanding anything or claiming me.
He simply seemed sure. The kind of certainty that didn’t need to prove itself.
I felt my breath shift immediately, my hand coming up to rest against his chest, steadying myself more out of instinct than need.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against mine.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
That was it. No elaboration. No conditions. Just truth.
I let out a quiet breath, my fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. “Good.”
His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer. It was not urgent or rushed, but deliberate.
“We don’t have time for distractions,” I murmured.
“We will always have time for a distraction or two,” he replied.
I huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re still here.”
“You know, finding Sidorov might change things, right?”
“Yes.”
“There will be no going back because Volkov will know.
“I know.”
I held his gaze for a second longer. “Then we must not hesitate.”
A faint shift crossed his expression.
“I have never hesitated, Misha, and I won’t let you either. We are going in this strong,” he said.
I nodded once, a slight warmth sitting in my chest because now I knew that he was beside me. He would always be beside me.