Chapter 47 Lena
LENA
The private jet cuts through the night sky, and I press my forehead against the cool window, watching city lights appear on the horizon like scattered diamonds.
My stomach has finally settled after the ginger ale and crackers Aleksandr forced me to consume before we left Montana, but the nausea has been replaced by a different kind of sick feeling.
Katya Rostova is in the wind.
Aleksandr sits across from me, his laptop open, phone pressed to his ear.
He's been making calls for the past hour, his voice low and deadly calm in a way that makes my spine straighten automatically.
This isn't the man who held me while I cried about my parents.
This is the Pakhan, and watching him work is like watching a predator coordinate a hunt.
"I don't care if you have to knock on every door in the city," he says into the phone, his gold eyes hard as stone. "Find her. I want to know where she's been, who she's talked to, and what she's planning. You have twelve hours."
He ends the call and immediately dials another number.
His fingers drum against his thigh, the only sign of tension in his otherwise controlled demeanor.
The movement draws my attention to the way his dress pants pull tight across his muscular legs, and even terrified and exhausted, my body notices.
His eyes flick to mine, and something in his expression softens. Just for a moment, the Pakhan mask slips, and I see concern there. Real concern.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, setting down his phone.
"Like I'm about to throw up again, but that might just be fear instead of pregnancy." I try for humor, but my voice shakes.
He crosses to sit beside me, his hand finding mine and lacing our fingers together. The touch grounds me, reminds me that I'm not alone in this anymore. "We'll find her before she can make another move."
"You don't know that."
"I know that every resource I have is focused on locating her. I know that she can't hide forever, not in my city." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "And I know that I will do whatever it takes to keep you and our baby safe."
The certainty in his voice should comfort me. Instead, it reminds me exactly what "whatever it takes" means for a man like Aleksandr Romanov.
Danil appears from the front of the plane, his expression grim. "Boss, we have an update."
Aleksandr's entire body goes rigid. "What?"
"Katya liquidated three properties in the past week. Sold them for cash, well below market value. She also withdrew two million from various accounts." Danil drops into the seat across from us. "She's funding something big."
My stomach drops. "Two million dollars?"
"That buys a lot of loyalty," Aleksandr says quietly. "Or a lot of firepower."
The plane begins its descent, and I watch the city grow larger beneath us. Somewhere down there, a woman who wants Aleksandr dead is planning her next move. And I'm carrying his child, which makes me either the perfect leverage or the perfect target.
Possibly both.
The estate appears through the trees as we drive up the long driveway, and I've never been so grateful to see those high walls and security gates.
Aleksandr helps me out of the SUV, his hand on my elbow, and I notice the way his eyes scan the grounds automatically.
Always watching. Always calculating threats.
Inside, he guides me to his office where Ronnie waits with more files spread across the desk. The captain stands when we enter, his brown eyes moving between Aleksandr and me with barely concealed curiosity.
"Pakhan," he says. "We've compiled everything we have on Katya's movements over the past six months."
Aleksandr moves to the desk, and I follow, peering over his shoulder at the photographs and documents. My eyes catch on one image, Katya leaving a restaurant with a man I don't recognize. She's smiling, her hand on his arm, and something about the casual intimacy of the gesture makes my skin crawl.
"Who's that?" I ask, pointing.
"Dmitri Volkov," Ronnie says. "Arms dealer. Specializes in untraceable weapons."
The implications settle over me like a wet blanket. "She's arming herself."
"Or arming others." Aleksandr's jaw tightens. "Ronnie, I want surveillance on every known associate of Katya's."
"Already done, Boss. We've got eyes on twelve people so far."
"Make it twenty." Aleksandr turns to me, and his expression shifts from cold calculation to something warmer. "You need rest. It's been a long day."
"I'm fine."
His hand finds the small of my back. "Humor me.
" He smiles as he escorts me away from his office, toward my room.
He leans down and kisses me, slow and thorough, and for a moment I forget about Katya and threats and the danger closing in around us.
There's just his mouth on mine, his hands on my body, and the heat building between us despite the exhaustion pulling at my bones.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard. His gold eyes are dark with desire, and the way he's looking at me makes my core clench.
"To bed," he says, his voice rough. "Before I take you against this wall and scandalize the staff."
"Would that be so bad?"
His laugh is low and dangerous. "Tempting. But you need rest, and I have work to do."
For the first time, I notice the two guards already stationed in the hallway. Both nod respectfully as we pass.
Inside my room, he pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me. "I know you hate being restricted. I know this feels like a cage. But please, just for now, let me keep you safe."
I tilt my head back to look at him. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand."
"Thank you." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll check on you later." He pauses and points to my nightstand. "By the way, Danil got a secured phone set up for you. You can call your parents whenever you'd like."
My stomach flips, not with nausea, but with excitement and dread at the same time. I can actually speak to my parents. After all this time. I'm anxious and impatient to talk to them, but worried about how they'll feel about how I lived during my exile and especially how I live now.
I change into sleep pants and a tank top, then sit on the edge of my bed with my phone in hand. I dial the number Danil had left on a piece a paper next to it. It rings once. Twice. Three times.
"Hello?" My mother's voice, cautious and uncertain, makes tears spring to my eyes immediately.
"Mom?" My voice cracks. "It's me. It's Lena."
The sound she makes is somewhere between a sob and a gasp. "Lena? Oh, my God, Lena, is it really you?"
"It's really me, Mom. I'm alive. I'm safe." The tears stream down my face now, hot and unstoppable. "I'm so sorry I couldn't call sooner. I'm so sorry I left you and Dad without knowing whether I was okay."
"Baby, we understood. We knew you had to run." She's crying too, her words coming between sobs. "We've been praying every day that you were alive somewhere. That you were safe."
"I am. I'm safe now. I want to see you. I want to see you and Dad so badly."
"Where are you? Can we come to you?"
I glance at the door, knowing Aleksandr or his guards might be listening to this conversation through whatever security system he has set up. "I'm in the city. And soon we can meet, I promise."
"The city?" Her voice goes quiet. "Lena, are you sure that's safe? The people who were looking for you…"
"It's complicated, Mom. But I promise I'm protected now. I'll explain everything when I see you." I take a deep breath. "How's Dad?"
"He's good. Worried about you constantly, but good. We've been living quietly, keeping to ourselves." She pauses. "Your Uncle Orleg disappeared two years ago. We haven't heard from him since."
The news about my uncle should surprise me, but it doesn't. Men who steal from the Bratva don't usually live long enough to disappear on their own terms. "I'm sorry, Mom."
"Don't be. He made his choices." Her voice hardens slightly. "We made ours by trying to help him. But you, you were innocent in all of this. You didn't deserve what happened."
"I'm okay now. I promise." I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "I have so much to tell you."
We talk for another hour, and by the time we hang up, my face hurts from crying and smiling in equal measure.
I'm getting ready for bed, brushing my teeth and washing my face, when I hear it. Shouting downstairs. The sound of multiple vehicles arriving, engines revving, and doors slamming.
My heart jumps into my throat. I throw open my bedroom door and find one of my guards already moving toward the stairs, his hand on his weapon. The other stays with me, his body positioned between me and whatever's happening below.
Then I see him. Aleksandr strides down the hallway toward me, his face dark with fury, his gold eyes blazing with something that looks like rage and satisfaction mixed together.
"What's happening?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stops in front of me, his hands finding my shoulders. "Katya just made her move."