Chapter 38 Alexei
Alexei
The gunfire shatters the perfect evening.
I’m already pulling on pants before Mila understands what’s happening.
My phone vibrates with incoming alerts from the security system. Multiple breach points, and at least twenty hostiles on the perimeter.
“Stay here,” I bark at Mila.
She scrambles out of bed and grabs her robe. “What’s going on?”
“Novikov.” I shove my feet into boots and grab my gun from the nightstand. “Get dressed. Now.”
More shots crack through the night, closer this time. Glass shatters on the first floor.
Dmitri bursts through our bedroom door, armed and dressed. “They’re coming from three directions. At least two dozen men.”
“The safe room,” I tell him.
He nods and turns to Katya, who appears behind him, looking shaken but composed. “Come on.”
I grab Mila’s arm and pull her toward the hallway. She’s still pulling on her shirt as we move. Dmitri leads Katya down the corridor while I keep Mila behind me.
Boris and Nikita appear at the top of the stairs. Both have assault rifles ready.
“South entrance is compromised,” Boris reports. “They used explosives on the gate.”
“How many got through?” Dmitri asks.
“At least eight. We took down three, but the rest scattered into the grounds.”
More gunfire erupts from outside. The distinctive sound of automatic weapons echoes through the estate.
“I’m going to get them to the safe room,” I explain to Boris. “Get back out there.”
We rush down the hallway to the hidden door behind the bookshelf in my office. I punch in the code, and the mechanism clicks. The door swings open to reveal a reinforced steel staircase leading down.
“Inside,” Dmitri tells Katya before he gives her one quick kiss. “Look after Mila.”
She doesn’t argue before she starts down the stairs.
Mila grabs my arm. “You’re not coming?”
“I have to end this.”
“Alexei—”
“Trust me.” I cup her face and kiss her hard. “I will come back to you. I promise.”
She searches my eyes for a long moment before nodding. “Don’t you dare break that promise.”
“Never. Stay with Katya.”
I watch her descend the stairs behind my sister-in-law before the door seals shut with a heavy thud. The safe room is reinforced concrete with its own ventilation system and enough supplies for a week. They’ll be secure there no matter what happens up here.
Dmitri checks his weapon. “Ready?”
“Let’s end this.”
We move through the house in formation. Years of training take over. Every corner is checked and every room is cleared. The sounds of battle intensify as we approach the main level.
Anton meets us at the ground-level stairs. Blood streams from a cut above his eyebrow. “They’re breaching the front entrance. Denis is holding them off, but he needs backup.”
“Go,” Dmitri tells me. “I’ll secure the west wing.”
We split up, and I take Anton toward the front of the house. The acrid smell of gunpowder fills my nose. Bullet holes pepper the walls, and a priceless painting my father collected hangs in tatters.
Denis crouches behind an overturned table in the foyer. He fires through the shattered window and ducks as return fire sprays the area.
“How many?” I ask as I drop beside him.
“Five outside. Maybe more in the trees.”
I lean around the table to assess the situation. Three men are using my vehicles for cover while firing at the house. Two more advance along the tree line, flanking our position.
“On my signal, suppressing fire,” I instruct.
Denis nods.
“Now.”
We open up simultaneously, with our combined firepower forcing the assailants to take cover. I sprint across the foyer to a better vantage point near the destroyed front door.
From this angle, I have a clear shot at the flanking attackers. I take down the first with a double-tap to the chest. The second realizes his mistake and retreats, but Anton’s rifle barks, and he drops.
The three behind my vehicles return fire. Bullets chew through the doorframe inches from my head. I duck and reload.
“We need to push them back,” I call to Denis.
“On your lead.”
I count to three, then roll into the open and come up firing. Denis and Anton provide covering fire from their positions. The coordinated assault catches the attackers off guard. Two go down. The third makes a run for the trees but doesn’t make it ten feet.
Silence falls over the front grounds. Just the ringing in my ears and my heavy breathing.
“Clear,” Denis confirms.
My phone vibrates, and Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen.
“West wing is secure,” he reports. “We took down six. Lost one of ours.”
“Who?”
“Nikita.”
I close my eyes. Nikita has worked for our family for years. “The south?”
“Boris is handling it. They’re falling back.”
“Novikov?”
“No sign of him yet.”
I reload my weapon and scan the grounds through the shattered windows. “He’s here. This is his big moment. He wouldn’t miss it.”
“Then let’s find him.”
I move through the destroyed front entrance onto the steps. Bodies litter the driveway. My men move between them, checking for survivors. The night air smells like blood and smoke.
Movement catches my eye near the gate. A figure separating from the shadows. Tall. Moving with intent rather than panic.
Novikov.
“I see him,” I tell Dmitri through the phone. “He’s heading for the east gardens.”
“Cut him off from the north. I’ll come from the south. And Alexei… don’t do anything stupid.”
I almost laugh. “Too late for that.”
I move quickly across the grounds, keeping covered. My boots crunch on broken glass and shell casings. The east gardens are surrounded by high hedges that create a natural arena.
Perfect.
I enter through the south entrance with my gun raised. The garden is eerily quiet after the chaos of the assault. Moonlight filters through the trees across the manicured paths.
“Kozlov.” Novikov’s voice echoes from somewhere ahead. “I knew you’d come.”
I don’t respond. I continue to move forward, scanning every shadow.
“All this for a woman,” he continues. “Your father would be ashamed.”
“My father is dead because men like you think loyalty is weakness.”
“Your father is dead because he got soft. Just like you.”
I round a hedge and spot him standing in the center of the garden. His gun hangs loosely at his side. Blood stains his shirt, but he’s still standing. And dangerous.
“You should have stayed out of it,” I tell him.
“You should have just walked away from the girl and her family. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
“That was never going to happen.”
He raises his gun, and so do I. We stand twenty feet apart with weapons aimed at each other.
“One of us walks away,” he states.
“Just one.”
We fire simultaneously. His shot goes wide as he dives left. Mine catches his shoulder and spins him around. He hits the ground, rolls, and comes up shooting.
I wince as the bullet grazes my ribs. Hot pain flares, but I close the distance between us, emptying my magazine into the hedge he’s using for cover.
When he emerges from the other side, his firearm clicks as he pulls the trigger. His gun is empty, too. We lock eyes across the moonlit garden.
This ends now.
I drop my weapon and charge. He meets me halfway. We collide with bone-crushing force as his fist connects with my jaw. I drive my elbow into his wounded shoulder, and he roars in pain.
We grapple, trading blows. Years of violence and training are poured into every strike. He’s experienced, but he’s fighting for pride.
I’m fighting for everything that matters.
I get behind him and lock my arm around his throat. He claws at my forearm to break the hold. His strength fades with blood loss.
“This is for every threat you made,” I growl in his ear. “Every time you put her in danger.”
He makes a choking sound, and his movements become weaker.
“And this is for making me kill you on my fucking front lawn.”
I squeeze harder until I feel his windpipe collapse beneath my arm. His body goes limp, but I hold the pressure for another thirty seconds to be sure.
When I finally release him, he crumples to the ground. Dead.
I stand over his corpse and try to catch my breath. My ribs scream with every inhale. Warm wetness spreads through my shirt.
I’m so full of adrenaline that I almost don’t hear Dmitri’s voice behind me.
I turn to find my brother standing at the garden entrance with his weapon lowered. He takes in the scene. Novikov’s body. The blood. My condition.
“It’s done,” I tell him.
He nods. “The rest of his men are either dead or running. Boris is coordinating cleanup.”
“Casualties?”
“Two of ours dead. Five wounded. Could have been worse.”
I look back at Novikov’s body. He’s the man who orchestrated all the threats, the kidnappings, and the constant danger that has defined our lives for months.
Gone.
Dawn breaks as we walk back to the house. The sky lightens from black to deep purple to orange. I make my way through the destroyed house to my office. Input the code to open the safe room. The door swings open, and I descend the stairs.
Mila and Katya are huddled on the couch. My sister-in-law is stroking Mila’s hair, promising everything will be okay. They jump up when they see me.
“Alexei.” Mila rushes forward, and her eyes go wide when she sees the blood. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.” She reaches for my shirt, but I catch her hands.
“It’s over,” I tell her. “Novikov is dead. His men are scattered. The threat is gone.”
She searches my face. “Really? It’s over?”
“Yes.”
Her legs give out as I catch her and pull her against me. She trembles in my arms, all the fear and stress of the past months finally releasing in one shuddering breath.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper into her hair.
Dmitri appears on the stairs, and Katya is in his arms within seconds. My brother looks as exhausted as I feel. “We should all get checked by the doctor.”
“In a minute,” I tell him.
He nods and leads Katya back upstairs.
I hold Mila in the safe room surrounded by reinforced concrete and emergency supplies. Hold her like I’ll never let go. Because I won’t.
I clear my throat and say, “I need to ask you something.”
She pulls back to look at me. “What?”
I take her hands in mine. They’re clean, while mine are stained with blood and gunpowder. The contrast is stark. She’s everything good in this world, and I’m everything dark.
But she’s mine anyway.
“Marry me,” I both ask and tell her.
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
“Marry me. Be my wife. Let me spend the rest of my life protecting you and making you happy.”
“Alexei—”
“I love you.” The words come out rough but certain. “More than my own life. More than anything in this world. I’ve never said those words to anyone. I’ve never felt them until you.”
Tears stream down her face. “You love me?”
“Yes.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Mila Andreeva. I love your stubbornness and your strength. I love how you challenge me and refuse to back down. I love everything about you.”
She launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck despite my injury. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I love you, too. Yes to everything.”
I kiss her again, pouring out all the fear and relief and love I’ve kept locked away for so long.
When we finally break apart, she’s smiling through her tears.
“We’re getting married,” she declares like she can’t quite believe it.
“We’re getting married,” I confirm.