Chapter 10
Sergei’s braced his foot on the food truck’s step. Sweat trickled down his spine, oil and mango fumes clashing with dumpster rot. Keisha stood close, her arm brushing his, tremor faint in her fingers as she fumbled her wallet. He noticed the small details...always did.
“Two empanadas, one water,” Keisha told the vendor, voice steady despite her shake.
Sergei edged closer, shielding her from the crowd. Neon lights revealed the exhaustion carved deep in her face—dark circles, tight jaw. His gut twisted.
“Make it four empanadas,” he said, ignoring her glare as he held out two twenty dollar bills. “Three waters.”
Cars rolled through the lot, headlights sweeping asphalt. Too many blind spots. Sergei scanned, marking faces, cars. A man in a dark jacket lingered by a lamp post.
“I can pay for my own damn food,” Keisha snapped, voice low.
“I know.” His eyes stayed on the man. “Your hands are shaking.”
She shoved her fingers in her pockets. “It’s nothing.”
Nothing.
Like her seizure wasn’t nothing.
“Keisha!” Tiana’s voice pierced the crowd, bright, sharp.
The girl bounded over, backpack bouncing, one purple sock, one green—her rebellion.
“You’re okay!” Tiana crashed into Keisha, nearly toppling her. “Bad and tatted said we needed to separate for a while. Although I didn’t expect us to be back together so soon.”
Keisha’s face softened, tension easing. She hugged Tiana back. “I’m good. There have been some developments, so our timeline has moved up. “
Sergei handed Tiana a water, studying her—sixteen, all defiance, all vulnerability. Svetlana’s memory stabbed his chest. “Mango?” Tiana asked, peering at the food.
“Beef and cheese,” Sergei said. “Protein.”
Tiana rolled her eyes. “You sound like Mr. Rossi.” Her voice dropped. “He was always weird. Jumpy when he got certain calls, made me leave the room.”
Sergei’s focus snapped. “What calls?”
She shrugged, biting empanada. “Dunno. Never asked, but on certain days, Mrs. Rossi would tell me not to walk home.”
Keisha’s eyes met his, rigid. “How long ago was that?” she asked, calm masking intensity.
“A few days before all this went down. There was also some guy taking neighborhood pics for real estate,” Tiana said, slurping water. “Asked about our house.”
Sergei’s muscles coiled. The lamp post man was gone, replaced by a woman with sleek hair and a familiar posture.
“We’re leaving. Right now,” he said, low.
“But I just got here!” Tiana protested.
“Five more minutes, please,” Keisha begged.
Too long.
Sergei slid his hand to his ankle knife. Three exits: dumpster alley, parking lot, taco shop. The woman turned.
Vera Sokolova.
Her eyes locked on Tiana, smile cold.
“Tiana?” Vera called out, voice honey-toxic.
Tiana looked up. “Do I know you?”
Sergei clamped Tiana’s shoulder, fingers digging. Running meant a scene, drawing more enforcers. “No,” he said, firm. “You don’t.”
Vera stepped forward, hands open. A fake calm. “Jalisa is back home,” she said, flashing a counterfeit badge. “I’m here to take you back to her and Miguel.”
Keisha moved fast, shielding Tiana. “I’m her caseworker,” she snapped, tremor climbing her arm. “Emergencies go through me. I haven’t heard anything about Jalisa being released.”
Tiana’s face scrunched, fear flickering. “What’s wrong with Jalisa?”
“Nothing now,” Vera said, smooth. “She’s fine, wants you home.”
Sergei’s knife hand steadied. Keisha’s tremor worsened, her neck tight. Not now. “Let me see your ID,” Keisha demanded.
Vera held out a card. It was fake, Pavel’s work. “I should call Jalisa,” Tiana said.
“I have a phone you can use,” Vera said, blocking the lot exit.
Six people nearby, two too close for a fight.
“I’m responsible for Tiana,” Keisha said, voice firm despite shaking. “I’ll drive her.”
“Not necessary.” Vera’s eyes flicked to Sergei. “Jalisa asked for me.”
“How’s Miguel?” Tiana asked. “Was he home?”
“He’s fine,” Vera said. “In the car with my partner.”
Tiana relaxed.
Sergei’s gut knotted. All lies. He pressed Keisha’s back, urging retreat toward the taco shop. “We’ll confirm with the agency,” Keisha said, unmoving.
Tiana shifted, socks scuffing. “If Jalisa’s home—”
“She can wait,” Sergei cut in. “We’ll drive you.”
Vera’s mask slipped, eyes cold. “That’s sweet, but unnecessary. Now, Tiana, I need you to come with me.”
The crowd thinned, bystanders sensing tension, giving Vera space. “Tiana, stay with us,” Keisha whispered, urgent.
But Tiana stepped toward Vera, stubborn. “If Miguel and Jalisa need me—”
“They don’t,” Sergei said, stepping between them.
“You don’t know her,” Tiana snapped.
“I know her.” Vera extended her hand. “Coconut rice Fridays. Pop star poster, blue walls.”
Keisha grabbed Tiana’s arm. “Tiana, don’t—”
“Let go!” Tiana pulled, drawn to Vera’s lies. “If they need me—”
“They don’t.” Sergei blocked Vera. “This isn’t about them.”
Vera’s hand pulled a syringe, not a badge. “Step aside, Lisowski,” she said, pretense gone. “Dmitri wants the girl.”
Tiana froze. “What?”
“Run,” Sergei said, knife in palm. “Both of you. Now.”
Tiana moved toward Vera. Sergei grabbed for her jacket, fingers grazing fabric.
Too slow.
Vera yanked Tiana into the alley, grip tight. Tiana’s yelp cut off, shoes skidding on wet pavement. Sergei sprinted after them. Three seconds late. Not again.
The alley reeked of garbage, Tiana struggling against Vera. A black van waited, engine running, door sliding open. Mikalai waiting.
“Tiana, drop!” Sergei shouted.
She twisted, breaking Vera’s grip for a second. Sergei threw his knife. Vera kneed Tiana’s stomach, syringe jabbing her neck. Tiana gasped then went limp.
“No!” Sergei reached the van, fingers scraping metal as the door shut, Tiana’s face fleeting in the window. He slammed his palm, pain jarring. The van surged leaving marks on the asphalt.
“Tiana!” Keisha’s scream pierced the dark, sneakers skidding as she crashed beside him, face raw with rage, fear. Her body shook, but she ran fierce.
“Black Ford, no plates,” Sergei said, grabbing her shoulders. “Mikalai driving, Vera with Tiana.”
“We have to—” Keisha’s words broke off, fingers digging his arms.
“Breathe.” He scanned the alley. Empty. “Anyone follow?”
“No. Just us.” Her eyes fixed where the van vanished. “Tiana—”
“They won’t hurt her.” Sergei hoped it was true. “They want something else.”
A paper, crumpled in a puddle caught his attention. Sergei crouched, unfolding it.
LISOWSKI FOR THE GIRL. COME ALONE.
The address was Dmitri’s mansion.
“What’s it say?” Keisha snatched it, reading. “They want to trade.”
He held it out to her. “Yes.”
“You for Tiana.” Her voice steadied, shaking limbs. “No way.”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
“It’s the fastest way to get her back,” Sergei said, resheathing his knife. “Dmitri wants me.”
“They’ll kill you both,” Keisha said, voice rising. “You know that.”
Logic, brutal. No witnesses. Sergei’s jaw tightened, Svetlana’s image morphing into Tiana.
“I’m going,” he said. “I need to call Nadia to pick you up.”
Keisha stepped closer, eyes blazing. “I’m going with you.”
“You need rest. You still haven’t fully recovered from your seizure.”
“I’ll rest while you drive.” She cut him off, steel despite shaking. “If anything happens, you’ll handle it. Like before.”
Her trust, fragile, hit hard. “They’ll kill you too.”
“They’ll try.” She moved to the alley exit.
Sergei grabbed her arm, spinning her. “This isn’t your fight, Keisha.”
“Tiana’s mine.” Her voice cracked. “I won’t ditch her. Not like everyone else.”
He studied her silently for several minutes. “Then we do it smart,” he said. “No heroics.”
She nodded, sharp. “Tell me everything about them. No more secrets.”
Sergei backed her against the wall. Her eyes widened, breath hitching as he caged her.
“They’ll kill you,” he growled, face close. “You get that?”
She grabbed his collar, yanking him down, lips crushing his. Heat exploded, stunning him for two heartbeats. Her tongue pushed past his teeth, demanding. Sergei groaned, hands sliding to her waist, lower, gripping her hips, pulling her against him. Teeth clashed, her nails scraping his neck.
“Fuck,” he breathed against her mouth. “You drive me insane.”
Her pelvis pressed his hardness, ripping a groan from him. He pinned her, hand in her hair, other under her shirt, brushing her nipple through her bra. Her back arched, thighs parting, his erection against her core.
“Need this,” she gasped, kissing harder. “Need you.”
He sucked her neck, marking her, hand cupping her ass, lifting her. Her legs wrapped his waist, heat pressing his cock through jeans. “I want to fuck you right here,” he growled, fingers at her jeans button.
“Yes,” she breathed, shaky with need.
She trembled. Sergei pulled back, seeing the warning.
“Your seizure,” he said, easing her legs down, supporting her. “It’s coming.”
“No.” She fought her shaking. “I’m fine. Keep going.”
“We need your meds.” He steadied her, calm.
“Tiana first.” She fixed her shirt. “If it hits, it hits. We find her.”
The image of Tiana’s terrified face ate at him.
“Coconut Grove mansion,” he said, showing the text. “Dmitri’s place.”
“How do you know it?”
“It’s where he held parties.” Memories flooded. “High walls, security system, eight guards minimum.”
Keisha zipped her jacket, fingers fumbling. “How do we get in?”
“Service entrance, back.” His mind mapped routes. “I can disable the system, need a distraction for guards.”
“Mateo? Nadia?”
“Nadia may know the rotation.” He hesitated. She was a risk. “We’ll need weapons. Mateo can get us those.”
“I can shoot.” Her tone defied his surprise. “Foster kid in Miami. You pick things up.”
The alley’s stench grew. “Four hours to midnight,” he said, checking his watch. “Meds, weapons, plan.”
“If I seize before?”
“I wait till you’re stable, we go.” He wouldn’t leave her. Not after the last incident with Tiana.
She squeezed his hand, not affection, an agreement. “I’m not sitting in the car when we get there.”
“Wasn’t gonna ask you to.”
They made their way to the vehicle.
“Guards,” she said, voice sharp despite shaking. “Numbers, positions, rotations.”
“Five outside, three in. Armed. Ex-military.” He opened her door, scanning the lot. “Vera’s the real problem. She’ll expect us.”
“Good.” Keisha slid into the passenger seat. “I’m counting on it.”
Her rage mirrored his. I went beyond fear, beyond desire. Sergei buckled in. He glanced at the clock. 8:17 PM. Three hours, forty-three minutes to save Tiana. To start a war.