Chapter Nine
The meeting had just ended when Dimitri’s phone rang. He barely glanced at the screen before answering. Sofia. A small knot of tension that had lived in his chest since she’d left that morning loosened slightly.
Across the conference table, Alexei was still speaking with the investor, wrapping up final details. Several Volkov captains lingered nearby. The atmosphere was relaxed for the first time all day. Then Dimitri heard Sofia’s voice.
“Dimitri...”
The single word stopped him cold. Something was wrong. He heard the tension and urgency immediately. The fear she was trying to suppress. A gunshot exploded through the phone.
The sound was deafening. Metal screamed. Someone shouted. Then the line went dead. For a second Dimitri simply stared at the phone. The world seemed to stop. His pulse slammed against his ribs. Not again. Not her.
“Dimitri?” Alexei’s voice cut through the haze.
His brother had already risen from his chair. Dimitri looked up. The expression on his face must have revealed something because every man in the room immediately went silent.
“Sofia’s in trouble,” he whispered.
Alexei narrowed his eyes. “What happened?” Alexei demanded.
“I don’t know.” He hated the lack of information, but at the very least, Dimitri was already moving. The chair crashed backward behind him.
“I heard gunfire,” he heard himself.
The room instantly erupted into motion. The investor wisely chose not to ask questions. Alexei grabbed his jacket.
“Go to your wife,” Alexei said.
Dimitri didn’t need to be told twice.
“Sofia’s tracker.” One of the security specialists was already pulling up information on a tablet. The Volkov family tracked all protected vehicles. It was standard procedure. Normally Dimitri barely thought about it. Now it felt like the only thing keeping him sane.
A flashing dot appeared on the map, and it wasn’t moving. His stomach dropped. A stationary vehicle was rarely good news. Alexei swore when he glanced at the screen.
“I’ll send backup,” Alexei said.
Dimitri nodded, grateful for Alexei’s quick thinking, then he headed for the door. Every second mattered, and right now, he couldn’t afford to panic.
****
The black SUV tore through traffic. Dimitri sat in the back seat with a rifle across his lap. Three armed men occupied the vehicle with him.
Nobody spoke—there was no need to. The tension inside the SUV felt suffocating. The tracker continued blinking on the screen mounted beside the driver. Still stationary. Dimitri hated it.
His mind kept supplying possibilities, none of them good. He saw Sofia laughing at him over breakfast. Sofia rolling her eyes whenever he became overprotective, and Sofia standing in the doorway of his room after shooting the assassin. Finally, Dimitri pictured Sofia curled against him in bed.
The memories hit harder than any bullet ever could, because for the first time he understood exactly what was at stake. Not the alliance or politics, simply her. His wife. The realization made something savage twist inside his chest.
The driver accelerated harder. The city blurred outside the windows. The tracker drew closer.
Five minutes, three, two, then... Gunfire. The sharp crack of automatic weapons echoed through the air. Dimitri snapped his head toward the sound. Dimitri’s head snapped toward the sound. His pulse surged.
“That’s them,” he said, recognizing the vehicle in the distance.
The SUV rounded a corner. Everything happened at once. The crash site came into view. An overturned sedan lay crumpled against a utility pole. Glass glittered across the road. Smoke drifted upward.
Several armed men exchanged gunfire behind nearby vehicles. Finally—there—Dimitri spotted one of his own loyal men immediately. It was Victor, Sofia’s assigned driver. The man crouched behind an engine block, firing methodically toward a group of attackers.
Relief slammed into Dimitri. Victor was alive, which meant there was still hope. Then he recognized the attackers. Orlov soldiers. At least six of them, maybe more. Rage exploded through him. The bastards really had tried again.
“Move!” he ordered.
The SUV hadn’t fully stopped before Dimitri was out the door. His men followed, weapons raised. Their training had taken over. One of the Orlov gunmen spotted them first, but too late. Dimitri fired, and the man’s head snapped backward. He dropped instantly.
Another attacker turned, but Dimitri put two rounds through his chest. A third disappeared behind cover. The road erupted into chaos. Bullets shredded metal, and glass exploded. Men shouted, but Dimitri advanced relentlessly.
Every instinct narrowed toward a single objective. Find Sofia. Find her now. One of the attackers broke from cover. Dimitri shot him before the man managed three steps. Another tried to flank, but a Volkov soldier cut him down.
The fight lasted less than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity.
Then silence. Smoke drifted across the roadway, and bodies littered the pavement.
Nobody moved or fired. One of Dimitri’s men checked the final attacker.
Dead, all dead. Good, but still, it wasn’t enough. If something happened to Sofia...
Dimitri lowered his weapon, immediately scanning his surroundings. Where was she? Victor emerged from behind cover. His suit was torn, and blood covered one sleeve. The sight nearly stopped Dimitri’s heart, because he realized Victor was alone.
“Dimitri!”
Victor moved toward him. Relief flashed across the driver’s face.
“Boss, wait!” one of Dimitri’s men called behind him.
Dimitri ignored him.
“Boss, wait until we confirm...”
Dimitri ignored that one as well.
Every survival instinct he’d spent years cultivating vanished. All the rules, protocols and lessons gone at the thought that Sofia was somewhere in the wreckage, and he couldn’t see her. Dimitri sprinted. Someone shouted after him, but he didn’t listen.
The overturned sedan loomed closer. His pulse hammered so violently he could hear it. Please. The thought surprised him. A prayer, and he hadn’t prayed in years.
Please let her be alive. The world narrowed. He could barely focus on the wrecked vehicle, the shattered road and the blood, but then he finally saw her. His wife. For one terrible second his heart stopped.
Sofia lay motionless on the pavement beside the wreck, her dark hair spread across broken asphalt. Blood stained one side of her forehead. Dimitri reached her in seconds, and immediately dropped to one knee.
“Sofia,” he whispered.
There was no response. Panic hit him harder than any gunfight ever had. His hands shook as he reached for her. Victor arrived moments later.
“Boss.”
Dimitri barely heard him.
“Sofia,” he said again, but there was nothing. His chest felt hollow and cold. “No!”
Victor grabbed his shoulder. “Boss! She’s breathing.”
The words took several seconds to register.
Dimitri looked up sharply. “What?”
“She’s breathing,” Victor repeated and crouched beside him. “Concussion maybe. Head injury. But she’s alive.”
Alive. The word echoed through him. A breath escaped him, then another. Relief hit so hard it almost made him dizzy. The fury returned immediately afterward. Hotter than before, and stronger. The Orlovs had shot at her. They forced her car off the road and left her bleeding on asphalt.
If she had died... Dimitri stopped the thought, as he couldn’t bear finishing it. Carefully, he slipped one arm beneath her shoulders, the other beneath her knees.
Sofia felt frighteningly light. So still and vulnerable. Something inside him rebelled against the sight. She wasn’t supposed to look broken or helpless. Not Sofia, never his Sofia.
He lifted her into his arms, her head resting on his chest. The movement drew a faint sound from her. Relief surged through him again. She was okay. Around them, Volkov soldiers secured the scene.
Weapons were collected, bodies identified, and evidence gathered. Dimitri didn’t care. Let Alexei handle the investigation, and the captains take care of the cleanup. His only concern was the woman in his arms.
The driver opened the SUV door, and Dimitri climbed inside. He kept Sofia against him, refusing to let go. The vehicle pulled away from the crash site. As the city disappeared behind them, Dimitri stared down at her pale face.
He clenched his jaw. The rage remained, burning hotter with every passing second. Sergei Orlov had made a mistake. A catastrophic one. The moment Sofia’s terrified voice had cut off over the phone, something fundamental inside Dimitri had shifted.
Now all he could think about was how close he’d come to losing her, and it was far too close. He tightened his hand protectively around hers. Never again. The vow formed silently. Somewhere deep inside, Dimitri knew exactly what would happen next. The Orlov family was going to regret this.