Chapter 12 Alexei
Alexei
I took her virginity and didn’t even know it.
The thought keeps circling through my head while I stand in my study and stare at nothing. Three weeks ago, I fucked Mila Andreeva in that safe house. Rough. Fast. Like she was just another woman who knew what she was doing.
Except she didn’t know what she was doing.
She’d never been touched before that night. Never had a man inside her. And I just took what I wanted without asking any questions.
“Fuck.”
I pour myself three fingers of whiskey and down it in one gulp. The burn does nothing to ease the guilt crawling through my system.
I replay that night in my head for the hundredth time since she walked out of my office. The way she responded to my touch. How tight she was. The small gasp she made when I first pushed inside her. I thought it was just arousal; I thought she was enjoying herself.
Now, I realize it was probably pain.
Christ.
I pour another drink and try to focus on the rescue operation. Boris sent updated intelligence on the Novikov compound where they’re holding Irina. Three guards on rotation. Multiple exit points. Standard kidnapping setup designed to extract maximum concessions before releasing hostages.
Except that these hostages include a newborn. Which means time is critical.
The intelligence report shows guard patterns, shift changes, and weak points in their security. The Novikovs got sloppy. Probably because they think Leonid doesn’t have the resources to mount a rescue. They’re not expecting us to get involved.
That’s their first mistake.
I study the compound layout again. In the east wing on the second floor are two rooms connected by a shared bathroom. Irina and the baby are likely in the larger room with a guard posted outside. The other room is probably empty, but could be used for additional security if they suspect trouble.
My phone goes off with a message from Dmitri.
On my way. Need to discuss resource allocation.
Perfect. All I need right now is my brother questioning my decisions while I’m planning a rescue operation and dealing with the fact that I’m an asshole who took advantage of an innocent woman.
I down the second whiskey and set the glass on my desk before I pull up the compound schematics Boris compiled and study the security patterns for the third time tonight.
Plan entry and exit routes. Focus on anything except the look on Mila’s face when I said she was just like every other Bratva woman.
The shame of that moment eats at me. The cruelty. The assumption that she was experienced enough to handle my bullshit. The way I walked away without looking back.
She had been a virgin, and I’ve been treating her like a goddamn whore, using her body for favors. I made her get on her knees and mocked her for it afterward.
What kind of man does that?
The answer is obvious. The same kind of man who breaks fingers for late payments and orders executions over territory disputes. The same kind of man who’s spent his life learning to be ruthless and calculating.
I don’t want to be that man with Mila. I never wanted to be that man with her, even if I don’t understand why.
Dmitri arrives twenty minutes later, walks into my study without knocking, and takes the seat across from my desk like he owns the place.
“Tell me why we’re risking five men and significant resources to rescue Leonid Andreev’s other daughter,” he demands without bothering with pleasantries.
I shrug and offer, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Since when do we base operational decisions on morality?”
“Since the Novikovs escalated their territory grab by kidnapping civilians. They know we’re considering an alliance with Leonid. If we don’t respond, it signals weakness.”
“Bullshit.” Dmitri leans back in his chair and props one ankle over the opposite knee. “This isn’t about territory or signals. This is about Mila.”
“Mila’s sister is being held hostage. Of course, it’s about Mila.”
“That’s what I just said.”
I glare at him. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that you’ve deployed six men to watch this property, and another eight gathering intelligence on the Andreev situation.
Now you want to commit five more to a rescue operation that puts our people at risk for a family that isn’t ours.
All to protect one woman who you claim means nothing to you. ”
“She’s a potential alliance asset. Keeping her safe makes strategic sense.”
“Does it? It looks more like obsession than strategy. You’re acting like I did with Katya. Same patterns. Same excuses. Same refusal to admit what’s happening.”
I stand and stalk to the window to stare out at the forest stretching into darkness. “This situation is different from you and Katya.”
“How, because you haven’t kidnapped her from a hospital?
Because you haven’t lied about being married?
Those are just details, Alexei. The fundamentals are the same.
You’ve claimed a woman. You’re protecting her, and you’re making decisions based on keeping her safe rather than what’s best for the organization. ”
“I’m protecting an alliance opportunity.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he scoffs, “maybe eventually you’ll believe it.”
“Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just here to question my judgment?”
“I’m here to make sure your judgment isn’t compromised. I nearly destroyed our organization. I’d rather not watch you repeat my mistakes.”
“Mila isn’t Katya. I’m not you. This situation is under control.”
“You’re spiraling. When’s the last time you slept? When’s the last time you ate something?”
I let out a huff and reply, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re obsessing over a woman who hates you, and instead of dealing with that, you’re planning a rescue operation that could get our people killed.”
“No one’s getting killed tonight. I’ve planned every detail, triple-checked the intelligence, and coordinated with our best operators. This is a clean extraction.”
“There’s no such thing as a clean extraction when you’re violating another family’s territory. The Novikovs will see this as an act of war. They’ll retaliate. And when they do, it won’t just be you they target, it’ll be all of us.”
“I’m aware of the risks.”
“Are you? I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly about any of this.” Dmitri stands and walks closer. “I know you, little brother. Something’s eating at you, and it’s more than just planning a rescue operation.”
I consider admitting that I took Mila’s virginity without knowing it and then treated her like garbage today because I assumed she was experienced enough to handle my cruelty.
But the words stick in my throat. Admitting it out loud would make it real, forcing me to confront how badly I’ve fucked this up.
“I’m fine,” I say instead. “Just focused on getting Irina back safely.”
Dmitri doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push, either. He picks up the compound schematics from my desk and eyes them. “When are we moving?”
“Tonight. Two a.m., when the guard rotation changes.”
“Who’s leading the team?”
“I am.”
He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s my operation,” I remind him. “I’m leading it.”
“You’re emotionally compromised. Send Boris or one of the others. Let someone with a clear head handle this.”
“No. I told Mila I’d get her sister back. I’m going to keep that promise.”
Dmitri studies my face for a long moment. “You care about her.”
“I care about keeping my word.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I turn away from him and train my line of sight to the trees outside the window. “Brief the team. Make sure everyone knows the extraction protocol.”
“Alexei—”
“I’m done discussing this. Either you’re helping with the operation or you aren’t. Choose.”
He’s quiet for several seconds, then I hear him move toward the door. “I’ll brief the team. But when this is over, we’re going to have a real conversation about what Mila Andreeva means to you.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“We’ll see.”
He leaves. The door closes behind him with a quiet click that somehow feels louder than a slam.
I return to my desk and pull up the schematics again. I force myself to focus on the operation instead of Dmitri’s questions and the guilt still eating at me over Mila’s revelation.
She was a virgin. I keep coming back to that like picking at a wound that won’t heal.
How did I not know? How had I missed something so fundamental about her?
Because I assumed she was experienced and knew what she wanted. I assumed she was just like every other woman I’d been with who understood the rules of casual sex.
I assumed wrong.
“Fuck.”
I need to apologize. Need to explain that I never would have said those things if I’d known the truth. Need to make her understand that my cruelty came from ignorance, not malice.
Except I don’t know how to apologize for something this horrible.
How do you say you’re sorry for taking someone’s virginity without understanding what you were doing?
For treating their first sexual experience like it was meaningless?
For making them feel like a whore the second time they trusted you with their body?
There’s no apology big enough for that kind of damage.
I grab my phone and head upstairs. Mila’s door is closed, and there’s no light coming from underneath. Either she’s asleep or pretending to be.
I knock anyway. “Mila?”
No response.
“I’m leaving in a few hours for the operation. I wanted to—” I stop myself. Wanted to what? Apologize? Explain? Try to undo the damage?
Still no response from inside the room.
“Your sister will be safe by morning,” I say to the closed door. “I promise.”
I wait for several more seconds, listening for any indication that she’s awake and listening.
Nothing.
I turn and head back downstairs. The house feels too quiet and too empty despite the guards outside. It’s like Mila’s silence has infected the entire building.
The next few hours pass in a rush of final preparations. Weapons checks. Communication equipment. Vehicle coordination. All the logistics required for a successful extraction.
I clean my Glock and load extra magazines. I check my body armor for weak points and review the extraction routes one more time until I can navigate them with my eyes closed.
Dmitri shows up at one thirty with the full team. Five men plus him, all experienced, and all trained for this kind of operation.
Boris, Nikita, Sergei, Denis, and Anton.
Each one handpicked for his specific skills: Boris for his tactical expertise.
Nikita for his ability to remain calm under pressure.
Sergei for his medical training in case Irina or the baby need immediate care.
Denis for his lock-picking and technical skills.
Anton for his sharpshooting abilities if things go wrong.
“Final briefing,” I tell them in the main room.
“Targets are Irina Andreeva and her infant son. They’re being held in the east wing of the Novikov compound, on the second floor.
Three guards on rotation. Civilian staff might be present, but shouldn’t interfere.
We go in quiet, extract the targets, and get out before they can mount a coordinated response. ”
“What’s the priority if things go wrong?” Boris asks.
“The baby. Then Irina. We don’t leave without both.”
“And if we can’t get both?”
“We get both. That’s not negotiable.”
The men nod. No one questions the order even though they all know rescues don’t always go according to plan.
“Weapons are hot; don’t fire unless fired upon,” I continue. “I want this clean. No unnecessary casualties or burned bridges we can’t rebuild later. The Novikovs are competitors, not enemies. I’d like to keep it that way if possible.”
“The Novikovs won’t see it as clean regardless,” Nikita points out. “We’re violating their territory and taking their leverage. They’ll want retaliation.”
“Let them want it. By the time they organize a response, we’ll be long gone with the hostages safe. We’ll claim humanitarian concerns and let politics sort itself out.”
I dismiss the team to make final preparations. Dmitri stays behind.
“You sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Once we cross this line, there’s no going back. The Novikovs will know we sided with the Andreevs and adjust their strategy accordingly.”
“I’m aware of the consequences.”
“Are you? This isn’t just about business anymore. This is personal, and personal decisions in our world tend to get people killed.”
“No one’s getting killed tonight.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I just did.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t argue. “I’ll prep the vehicles.”
I head back upstairs one more time. Mila’s door is still closed, and there’s still no light underneath.
I pull her phone from my pocket. The one I confiscated when we first arrived at this estate. I unlock it and check the battery. It’s at forty percent. Good enough.
Then I knock on her door again.
“Mila. I’m leaving your phone outside your door. You can use it to contact me if there are any security concerns while I’m gone. All communications are monitored, so don’t try anything stupid.”
I set the phone on the floor outside her door and wait to see if she’ll open it.
She doesn’t.
“I’ll bring your sister home,” I say to the closed door. “I promise.”
Still nothing. Just silence from the other side of the door that feels heavier than any words could.
I turn and head downstairs, where the team is waiting. Six men ready to risk their lives for a rescue operation that serves no strategic purpose beyond keeping one woman happy.
Dmitri was right; this is personal, and I’m done pretending otherwise.
I just hope that one day, Mila can forgive me for being such a bastard.