Chapter 28 - Katya
The crack of Yuri's fist against Sergey's jaw is louder than I expect, and it snaps me out of my thoughts like a gunshot.
My heart leaps into my throat as I watch Sergey stagger, then recover. He comes back with his posture tense and ready, arms up, while he deflects the next blow. Without warning, he reciprocates, clipping the side of Yuri’s face.
This isn't just some Bratva pissing contest. This is real and brutal.
At the sound of the exchanged hits, my stomach clenches, and I can’t ignore the roaring of my pulse in my ears.
The thought of Sergey fighting anyone in such an ugly way is enough to send me into a pure panic. I should have a better grip on my emotions, but right now, feeling how thick the tension is has me spiraling.
When Yuri charges forward, forcing Sergey back before hitting him again, I surge forward instinctively to try and break out of the chair, but a heavy hand grips my shoulder and holds me in place. One of Yuri's men holds me back, his grip iron-tight, reeking of smoke and old leather.
“Get your hands off me,” I snarl and struggle, but he doesn't flinch.
"Stay out of it," he growls, more focused on the fight than on restraining me. Still, he doesn’t let go. “Nobody needs you getting in the way.”
"He's going to kill him!"
But he won’t…I already know it. Sergey is faster and stronger, and if there's one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Sergey fights for more than pride. And right now, he’s fighting for me and us.
My brother may have endured his training, but he never took it seriously. He was too busy enjoying the fruits of Dad’s labor and playing pakhan-in-waiting.
Every punch Sergey lands sends a jolt through my body, but the ones Yuri sends in return hit me harder.
I hate this. I hate watching him get hit, and I hate feeling so useless.
I attempt to twist and kick back at the guard restraining me, managing to elbow him in the ribs, but it isn’t enough. He grunts, loosening his hold for just a second before holding my shoulder down harder and roughly grabbing my chin, making me look directly at the fight.
“Watch, Katya…watch your brother put the Lukov down like a dog.”
The words sting as they sink in, and I know I can’t let that happen. Even if I’m defenseless, I can’t allow him to succumb to it.
Sergey dodges Yuri's next swing and counters with a sharp uppercut that knocks Yuri back, blood spraying from his lip. It happens so quickly and viciously that I can’t even react. But the crowd around them yells and taunts, apparently not caring about who they’re even cheering for.
"Come on, Sergey," I whisper, chest aching. "Just finish this."
As the fight drags on, the tide begins to visibly turn. Yuri slows down while he pants to catch his breath, and his movements become more desperate and sloppy. But he masks it by laughing bitterly and grinning as if everything is working in his favor.
Sergey, bruised and bloodied, still stands tall. It's a nightmare to watch two men tear each other apart for something as twisted as family, money, and power. But for them, this is nothing. This is what they’re used to.
Then something shifts.
After taking another heavy hit, Yuri stumbles back while a dazed expression masks his face, and his men exchange looks. I see them begin to move subtly, their hands inching towards their weapons despite the 'no-weapons' rule.
No. No.
But before they can get close, the rumble of engines and the flood of headlights cuts through the building with ease. Black SUVs pull into the lot while they come to a screeching halt, doors flinging open before they’ve fully stopped.
Lukov men spill out, guns raised and ready.
At once, everyone freezes. For a heartbeat, no one moves. Not even Yuri or Sergey.
Then chaos takes over.
The guard restraining me curses and glances around, loosening his grip just enough, and that's all the distraction I need. Slamming my foot down on his, I drive my elbow into his throat and rip myself free, sliding the rope off the backrest.
My lungs burn as I jolt forward, heart hammering with adrenaline and fear. With the need to get to Sergey.
"Kat!"
I catch from behind me, recognizing Roman’s voice.
But before I see him, I feel another hand on my shoulder, and I whirl around defensively, prepared to strike.
Sergey’s brother, Ivan, appears in front of me, not letting go. “Hey, relax…it’s just me. Come with me.”
My pulse remains just as fast, but seeing a familiar face that doesn’t want to see my husband dead eases me somewhat. I let go of a breath and nod, staying by him through the chaos. I swallow hard. “Where’s Sergey?”
Ivan keeps a firm hand on my shoulder and doesn’t answer while steering me through the crowd of Lukov men rushing in to take down whatever men of Yuri’s they can grab. I’m pulled away from the heart of it, able to see everything unfolding at once.
Finally, I catch sight of Sergey standing above Yuri on the ground now, one knee pressing into his back, forearm pinning the back of his neck. Yuri thrashes, snarling his curses and spitting blood.
"You’re a fool, Sergey!" he barks. "You think she’ll stay with you? You think she’ll stand by you just because you forced her into this? The moment I get the chance, I’ll shred you first.”
“Wrong again,” Sergey growls, voice rough while he makes sure Yuri can’t move an inch. “You don’t know your sister like you think you do. She’s not yours…not now, and not ever.”
With a brutal twist, Sergey pins Yuri’s arm behind his back while more Lukov men close in, and one of them pulls out a pair of cuffs, snapping them onto Yuri's wrists and hauling him up. He keeps yelling and spitting incoherent curses at all of us, especially me. He knows this is it.
When Yuri’s eyes fall on me, his gaze turns murderous.
“You’re a traitor, Katya. You had your chance to have the world in your hands…
but you’re just like Mom was. You’re weak and disposable.
I had plans for you. You were going to secure me the deal of a lifetime, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Now look at you…a Lukov whore!”
Something inside me shatters, and his words cut down as far as he intends them to.
Once, I had loved him as my brother. Back when he was innocent and incapable of being so cruel. But now, when I look at him, I only see a pathetic waste of skin, rotted by greed.
“I don’t want to see him again,” I say coldly to Ivan, my voice somehow even and calm despite the fury boiling inside me.
Ivan nods, then waves for the others to haul him out. The Lukov enforcers don’t hesitate.
Yuri is dragged away, still kicking and shouting, but I don’t hear the words anymore. I only see Sergey, standing in the middle of the room, panting with blood dripping from a split in his brow and a cut along his cheek.
The moment I pull out of Ivan’s grasp, he lets go, and I hurry over.
"Jesus, Sergey…" I murmur, immediately reaching for him.
His eyes meet mine, dazed, but he smiles. It’s small but real, and it’s the biggest relief to see him still standing and breathing.
"You okay?" He asks, taking my arms in his hands gently, holding me close while the rest of the situation around us is neutralized.
I scoff and gently wipe the blood from his cheek with the sleeve of my jacket while my other hand cups his jaw. "You’re the one who just got into a fist-fight, and you're asking me if I’m okay?”
“It’s all I cared about…and you’re the one who was abducted again,” Sergey murmurs, and his subtle smile falters while his voice breaks a little. "I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again."
My heart clenches, and the thought alone hurts. "Don’t say that."
He lifts a hand to my face, brushing back strands of hair. His knuckles are torn and lightly bleeding still, and his body faintly trembles with exhaustion. Regardless, he touches me like I’m the most important thing he has ever known.
"You stayed for me,” he whispers, swallowing back whatever emotions try to bubble up. “You could’ve joined him.”
"I never wanted to follow Yuri,” I murmur back, gently stroking along his unscratched cheek.
“I’m glad.”
We sit there for a moment longer, tangled in the aftermath of everything that just happened. The Lukovs finish securing the area while Roman barks orders, but the noise feels more distant now. Blurred, in a way.
Now, it’s just me and Sergey and the light presence of our shared relief.
I don’t know what’s ahead of us, but for now, we have each other.
And that’s enough.