Chapter 51 Eva
EVA
The knife glints in the weak afternoon light filtering through the grimy warehouse windows, and I know with absolute certainty that I'm staring at my death.
Irina's green eyes are bright with anticipation.
The blade hovers above my stomach, above the life growing inside me, and terror floods my system so completely, I can barely breathe.
But beneath the fear, something else stirs. Rage. Pure, white-hot fury that this woman thinks she can take everything from me. My future. My child. The man I love.
No. Fuck that.
While Irina has been monologuing like some villain from a bad movie, as she said, I've been working the zip ties binding my wrists.
The plastic cuts into my skin, drawing blood that makes my fingers slippery, but the moisture helps.
I twist my hands, ignoring the burning pain, feeling the restraints loosen incrementally with each movement.
Irina is too caught up in her own triumph to notice. She's savoring this moment, drawing it out, and her distraction is the only advantage I have.
"Any last words?" Irina asks, her voice almost gentle. Like she's doing me a favor by asking.
My mind races through possibilities, through options, through anything that might buy me more time.
The zip ties finally give way, falling from my wrists with a soft whisper of sound that Irina doesn't hear over her own breathing. My hands are free, but I keep them behind my back, waiting for the right moment. My ankles are still bound, limiting my mobility, but I can work with that.
I just need an opening.
"I love him," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "Roman. I love him more than I thought possible. And he loves me. That's something you'll never understand, Irina. Real love. Not the twisted obsession you've been calling devotion."
Her expression shifts, fury replacing the cold satisfaction. "Love?" She spits the word like it's poison. "Love is weakness. It's what's destroying Roman, what's made him soft and vulnerable. I'm doing him a favor by removing you."
The knife rises higher, and I see her muscles tense in preparation for the strike. This is it. My only chance.
The warehouse door slams open with a crash that echoes through the empty space like thunder.
Roman and Lev burst through, their guns drawn, their faces carved from stone and fury.
Roman's blue eyes find mine immediately across the distance, and the relief that floods his expression is so powerful it nearly breaks me.
But Irina's already moving. The distraction startles her, throws off her aim, and the knife that was meant for my stomach angles toward my heart instead. I see it coming, see the blade descending, and my body moves on pure instinct.
I throw myself sideways, my freed hands pushing off the chair, my bound ankles making the movement awkward but effective.
The knife whistles past where my chest was a heartbeat ago, and Irina stumbles forward with the momentum of her strike, her designer heels catching on the uneven concrete.
When I fall sideways, the chair breaks and my legs are free, although still tied to the broken pieces of the wood.
She's off-balance. Vulnerable.
I don't think. I just act.
My foot connects with her ass in a kick that would make my old self-defense instructor proud.
The impact sends Irina sprawling forward, her arms windmilling as she tries to catch herself.
She hits the concrete hard, the knife skittering away across the floor, and I hear the satisfying crack of her knee connecting with the ground.
Then Roman and Lev are there, moving with terrifying speed and precision.
Lev reaches Irina first, his hands yanking her to her feet.
His dark eyes are flat, professional, but I see the pain flickering beneath the surface.
This woman was his girlfriend for five years.
She shared his bed, his life, his secrets.
And she betrayed him in the worst possible ways.
Roman is at my side instantly, his hands gentle despite the rage vibrating through his body as he works the zip ties binding my ankles to the shards of wood.
The moment I'm free, he pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me with desperate strength.
I feel his heart pounding against my cheek, feel the tremor in his hands as they slide over my body, checking for injuries.
"Solnyshko," he breathes against my hair, his accent thick with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought…"
He doesn't finish the sentence, but I hear everything he's not saying. The terror. The helplessness. The absolute devastation of imagining a world without me in it.
"I'm okay," I whisper, my hands fisting in his shirt. "We're okay. The baby's okay."
His hand moves to my stomach, pressing gently against the slight curve there, and I see his jaw tighten with barely controlled emotion.
When his blue eyes meet mine, I see love there so powerful, it steals my breath.
Not just desire or possession or the complicated tangle of feelings we've been navigating. Pure, absolute love.
"I love you," I say, needing him to hear it again, needing him to know. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
"I love you too." His thumb traces my lower lip, and despite everything, despite the violence and terror of the past hours, heat floods through me. "More than my empire. More than my life. More than anything."
The confession makes my chest tight. Roman Sokolov, Pakhan and monster, choosing me over everything he's built. The weight of that choice, the significance of it, nearly brings me to my knees.
But Irina's voice cuts through our moment, shrill and desperate.
"Lev! Lev, please, you have to listen to me!
" She's struggling against his iron grip, her designer coat torn now, her sophisticated chignon coming loose.
"I did everything for you! For us! Don't you see?
Roman was holding you back, keeping you from your true potential. You deserve to be Pakhan, not him!"
Lev's expression doesn't change. His dark eyes remain flat, cold, revealing nothing of the emotions that must be churning beneath the surface.
"I love you," Irina continues, her voice cracking with desperation. "I've always loved you. Everything I did, every choice I made, it was all for you. So we could have the power we deserve. So you could finally step out of Roman's shadow and become what you were meant to be."
Tears stream down her face now, and I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. But then I remember the knife descending toward my stomach, the cold calculation in her eyes when she talked about eliminating my baby, and any sympathy evaporates.
"Please," Irina sobs, her legs giving out so that only Lev's grip keeps her upright. "Please, Lev. I did it all for you. For us. You have to believe me."
Lev's silence stretches, heavy and suffocating.
I watch his face, seeing the war playing out behind his carefully controlled expression.
This woman betrayed him in every possible way.
But she was also his girlfriend for five years.
The woman he shared his life with, whom he trusted completely.
That kind of betrayal doesn't just hurt. It destroys something fundamental.
When Irina realizes her tears aren't working, that Lev isn't softening, her expression transforms. The desperate pleading melts away, replaced by pure, venomous fury.
"You're pathetic," she spits, her voice dripping with contempt. "Playing at being powerful while you're really just Roman's lapdog, following him around like some devoted puppy. I gave you a chance to be something more, to take what should have been yours, and you're too weak to seize it."
Her green eyes shift to me, and the hatred there makes my skin crawl.
"And you. You stupid little whore. You think Roman loves you?
He's using you, just like he uses everyone.
The moment you're no longer useful, the moment that baby is born and he has his heir, he'll discard you like yesterday's trash. "
Roman's arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel the rage vibrating through his body. But he doesn't respond to Irina's taunts. He just holds me, his presence solid and protective, letting his actions speak louder than any words could.
"You've destroyed everything," Irina continues, her voice rising to something almost hysterical. "My plans, my future, everything I've worked for. I hope you're happy, Eva. I hope that baby was worth it. Because Roman's empire is crumbling, and when it falls, you'll fall with it."
Lev's hand moves to cover her mouth, cutting off the stream of vitriol. His dark eyes meet Roman's across the warehouse, and something passes between them. Understanding. Recognition. The weight of a decision that needs to be made.
Roman's blue eyes are cold as he looks at Irina, at the woman who tried to murder his wife and child.
I see the Pakhan in him now, the monster everyone fears, the man who's built an empire on blood and ruthless calculation.
His jaw tightens, his hands curl into fists at his sides, and I know he's imagining all the ways he could make her pay for what she's done.
But then his gaze shifts to Lev, and I see something softer flicker in his expression. Compassion, maybe. Or understanding of the pain his sovietnik must be feeling.
Roman's voice is low and controlled when he finally speaks, but I hear the steel beneath it, the absolute authority of a man who's used to being obeyed without question.
"Lev." He pauses, letting the weight of the moment settle. "What do you want to do with her?"