Chapter 31 Duke
Duke
The surge of panic lasts only as long as it takes me to curse myself. I fucked up. I was so hellbent on getting Fitz back that I’ve put everyone in danger. Everyone. I’ll have to live with the consequences of what comes next so every decision has to count. I force my mind to still.
“Rory, take Grace and Ed to the boathouse. They can hide out there until we know what’s happening,” I say, already tapping out a message to warn Calder.
“Fine, but I’ll come right back to the house afterwards,” Rory insists.
He sees my hesitation. I wanted him out of the way too.
Rory’s involvement with the Griffins has opened his eyes to a darker world, but his weapon of choice is diplomacy.
He’s remained steadfastly on the periphery of battles such as this.
So have I to some extent. I trained in the field when I became responsible for Moncrief security, but having the Bratva invade our home is a situation I never expected to face.
“Whoever these people are, Duke,” Rory says, pulling the big brother card with just his tone. “You’re not facing them alone.”
Reluctantly, I nod. “We get Fitz back.”
“Rory doesn’t need to take us,” Ed offers. “I know where the boathouse is and I can use a gun. I’ll protect Grace with my life, I swear.”
“I hate to repeat myself, but I’m not going anywhere,” Grace says, snagging my sleeve as I go to leave. “This marquee is full of your guests.”
“It’s also full of highly trained, armed personnel posing as waiting staff,” says Max. “They’ll protect everyone.”
“Like the guards on the gate?” Grace demands. She has a point.
Max hands one of his guns to Ed with an extra clip of bullets. He doesn’t look at me when he says, “No. The operatives here have been trained by the Griffins.”
I cock my head. This is news to me. “I thought we agreed not to involve them? Was it you who told Ash that Killian was here?” I don’t mean to sound angry. I’m grateful that the Griffins are still willing to help clean up a mess of my making, but I’ve put a lot of trust in Max in the last year.
“That was me,” Ed says, examining his gun and chambering a bullet like a fucking pro. His wince is his only apology when he looks up. “And if I’d known about Fitz, they would have found out about that way sooner too.”
The sting of betrayal makes me flinch. “You’re working for them?”
Ed looks indignant. “No, I work for you. My job is to take care of all your needs, something I’ve taken very seriously since Katarina darkened your door. I’ve only shared pertinent facts with the Griffins when necessary.”
“Like telling them what happened at the restaurant,” I surmise.
“Yes, and in return they’ve trained me. It’s a good thing too,” he says proudly. “I can look after Grace just fine. You need Rory with you. Of the two of you, he’s the better negotiator.”
There’s no time for argument or recriminations, and besides, I don’t know if I should be mad at Ed or proud.
I turn to Grace. “Ed has my permission to drag you out of here at gunpoint if he has to. Don’t give me someone else to worry about.
” I cup her face. “I love you, Angel. I’ll love you until the end of time and damn it, we’re owed that time together. ”
As my lips cover hers, Grace grips hold of my lapels. I savor her taste, her smell and the demanding swipe of her tongue as she commits my touch to memory too. I have to peel her fingers off me.
Tears streak her cheeks. “Don’t even contemplate not coming back to me,” she warns. “I love you, Duke.”
“It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
As Ed pulls her away, I tell myself he’ll keep her safe. I won’t consider any other alternative.
“I’ve let Ash know the Bratva are trying to take control,” Rory says. “He’s even more pissed now, but he’s landed the Griffin chopper in a field two minutes from here. We only need to say the word if and when we need them.”
“Then there’s only one thing left to do,” I say. “Let’s go see what these bastards want.”
The great hall seems the most appropriate place to receive our guests.
There’s a viewing gallery above our heads that Danyl and Andrey will know to secure, but our family home hides plenty of secrets that are less obvious.
There are spy holes that blend seamlessly with the sconces carved into the walls, behind which are the secret passages that were the playground of our childhood.
Calder and Killian are hidden in one such passage and will have a bird’s eye view of whatever comes next.
Killian had the briefest opportunity to say goodbye to Katarina before our Bratva friends arrived, but there was no question of making him leave.
God forbid we might need him, but for now, I have to hope my brother will stop him from doing anything rash.
The approaching footsteps are expected. Rory and I had been running across the lawn towards the terrace when we spied two of the three armored vehicles pulling up out front.
It’s impossible to know how many people in total are in the cars, but I’ve been checking the mansion’s security feed on my phone and watched six men enter the house.
Len is leading four of them towards us. The remaining two broke off and headed upstairs.
I haven’t spotted Danyl and Andrey yet. Our security cameras don’t give me complete coverage of the interior, but I did glimpse a shadow along the corridor close to Katarina’s room. She’s being guarded by at least one of her guards.
My breathing is heavy after racing here, but I’m happy to let our guests think I’m nervous. I want them to underestimate me. In my earpiece, I can hear Max barking orders, getting everyone prepared.
The double doors creak open and Len steps aside to allow one of the Bratva soldiers through. His footfalls are heavy on the polished timber floor as he scans the area without a word.
Two chandeliers ensure the hall is brightly lit, revealing sculptures on plinths and original works of art on the walls.
Gold drapes outline tall windows and three sets of glazed doors, all of which look out onto the terrace that’s shared with the drawing room, library and the billiards room.
The hall is otherwise clear of furniture so it can be easily adapted to suit the occasion, be that a ball, a feast or when we were kids, an impromptu sports arena.
The soldier completes a circuit, then looks up. The two missing soldiers appear on opposite sides of the viewing gallery, presumably directed to their positions by Danyl and Andrey. They all wear black leather like a uniform and nod stiffly to each other. None have drawn weapons. Yet.
Rory does not look impressed. He folds his arms and arches an eyebrow as the rest of the party enter the hall. The first man to enter is balding and in his late sixties. He wears a black woolen coat and a tartan scarf. It’s Moncrief tartan. Is that meant to impress us?
“Gentlemen!” he exclaims, opening his arms wide. “Thank you for the kind welcome!”
Ignoring who I presume is Vasili Barkov’s representative, I check behind him and my heart clenches. I’d glimpsed Fitz on the security feed, but it’s a relief to see him in the flesh.
My younger brother has a personality loud enough to make his presence known without saying a word, but his ordeal has diminished him. Fitz looks nervous as he unzips his padded jacket, and gives a start when the guy with the tartan scarf clamps a hand on his shoulder.
A glance back at the man and my stony mask slips. This is no representative. It’s the man himself. What the fuck?
“Mr. Barkov,” Rory says. “How generous of you to return our brother after holding him hostage for… How long?”
Vasili holds up his hands. “My apologies, Rory, but as I promised Marmaduke, I’ve returned him unharmed. I am a man of my word.”
“If that’s an attempt to appear honorable, you need to try harder,” Rory replies, unimpressed.
He gestures to Fitz to join us and when Vasili doesn’t object, our brother steps into the space Rory and I make between us.
“Are you OK?” I ask.
Fitz shrugs out of his jacket and throws it on the floor behind us. “Better than you’re about to be,” he warns, pointing with his eyes to the man on Vasili’s right. Unlike the others in the group, this one isn’t wearing black leather, and he carries a small bible.
“Don’t spoil the surprise, Fitz,” warns Vasili. “Let us wait until my niece joins us.”
I feel the weight of the extra gun I’d slipped into my waistband, either to use myself or pass to Fitz if there’s time.
I add up the numbers we’re presently dealing with.
There’s five Bratva, assuming the bible-toting guy is armed, and then there’s five of us including Killian.
It’s better odds than I feared, but with nowhere to take cover, the risks at present are too great.
I promised Fitz he’d be safe. I promised Grace I’d see her again.
There’s a creak of the double doors opening again and Katarina appears, tailed by Danyl. Her heels click loudly, her steps confident and her gaze sharp as she checks our surroundings, immediately clocking the men Vasili has posted in the gallery.
“Moya lyubimaya plemyannitsa,” Vasili exclaims. My favorite niece.
Katarina rolls her eyes. “I’m your only niece, uncle.”
On the surface, their hug is affectionate, but Katarina’s gaze dims with each kiss he plants on her cheek.
He smiles benevolently. “Still my favorite and looking as beautiful as ever.” He takes his time inspecting her from head to toe. “Red always did suit you, but I would have preferred something more virginal for your wedding day.”
“The wedding is tomorrow,” I tell him, but my gaze is already sliding back to the leather-bound bible.
Vasili’s words are simple and yet chilling. “There’s no need to wait.”
“Dyadya?” Uncle? Katarina asks. “We have it all arranged. I have a beautiful dress. Ivory silk. I can show you.”
The head of the Bratva looks bored. “There was never going to be a wedding tomorrow. You’re in league with the Griffins.”
“I would nev–”
“Their helicopter has just landed less than a mile away. Is that my welcoming party? Or were the Griffins always planning to show up to steal what’s mine?”
“They’re good friends of ours,” says Rory.
“Good friends you didn’t invite to my niece’s birthday party. Or the wedding. As it should be.” He offers an insincere smile. “As we’re about to become family, Rory, I would take it as a show of good faith if you were to inform the Griffins that you have no further need of their friendship.”
“You’re on Moncrief property,” Rory says. “And we choose our own friends.”
“Then I suggest you choose wisely. I would hate to spoil tonight’s party. Bloodshed would be very bad for your branding, don’t you think?”
“Is that a threat?” I growl.
“Of course it is,” Vasili says. “Oh, and if you were hoping to send a distress signal to the Griffins, we’ve blocked your network. No one else can see or hear what’s about to happen.”
All has gone quiet in my earpiece and as I check my phone, I find all the cameras blacked out. Vasili turns to Danyl and speaks low in Russian. I only know a few words, but from Katarina’s expression, I can guess whatever he’s saying isn’t good.
“Please, Uncle.” Katarina’s plea is the first sign that something is seriously wrong. It isn’t in her nature to beg. “She’s not–”
“Shush!” Vasili hisses, raising a finger to silence her.
My stomach hollows. There’s only one she they could be talking about.