Chapter Twenty-Two
Dmitri
The attack was over by the time I made it back to the safe room sector of the penthouse, though the aftermath still moved around me in fragments, security reports coming through my earpiece faster than I could fully process them.
Containment achieved. Casualties minimal on our side, five of Vale’s men down, two more detained for questioning before they’d likely be found dead in some quiet corner of the city within the week.
Rapid response had kept the damage contained to structural, salvageable losses rather than the catastrophic breach it could have become.
I’d moved through the aftermath mechanically, checking every corridor personally before allowing myself to head toward the safe room, confirming with my own eyes that the perimeter was actually secure rather than simply trusting reports relayed secondhand through an earpiece.
Broken glass littered half the main hallway.
A section of the east wing had taken enough gunfire to need structural review before anyone used it again.
None of that mattered to me the way it should have.
Vale hadn’t come to destroy the house. He’d come for Val, and the fact that he’d gotten as far as the safe room, that he’d stood in the same reinforced space I’d sworn was impenetrable and put his hands on her, tightened my chest like something physical, heavier than any structural damage the estate could have sustained.
I sat beside her now, watching her sleep, exhaustion having finally overtaken the adrenaline that had carried her through the past few hours.
Her face had gone pale, her breathing still uneven even in sleep, the involuntary tremors passing through her occasionally like her body hadn’t fully accepted the danger was over.
I watched her for a long time without speaking, something I rarely did in the middle of a crisis.
Roman stood near the doorway, giving me updates in a low, steady voice.
Information about perimeter reinforcement, about the detained men already being processed for whatever intelligence they carried, about Nikolai’s preliminary assessment of how Vale had managed to breach systems I’d trusted completely.
I barely listened. My attention stayed fixed on Val.
“Dmitri.” Roman’s voice finally cut through enough to reach me properly. “You really need to hear this part.”
“Go ahead.”
“The safe room locks weren’t bypassed through force. Someone had the actual override codes. That system was installed three years ago, updated twice since, and the list of people with legitimate access to those codes is short enough to count on one hand.”
“Varley.”
“Almost certainly. He’d have had access during the original installation, and there’s no indication the codes were ever changed after his removal from operational duties.
” Roman’s jaw tightened, his expression becoming grim.
“Which means Vale has had a blueprint of this penthouse’s most secure systems for longer than we’ve understood, possibly since before the raid on the lounge even happened. ”
I digested that with detached clarity. The same clarity that had carried me through every dangerous realization of the last several months, each piece of information landing less like shock and more like confirmation.
“Change every code in this building,” I said. “Tonight. Not tomorrow, not once things settle. Tonight.”
“Already in progress. Nikolai’s overseeing it personally.”
“Good.”
Roman studied me a moment longer, something careful in his expression. “How is she?”
“Sleeping. Physically unharmed, apart from where he grabbed her.” I kept my voice level, though the words affected me more than I wanted to show.
“He was in this building for less than ten minutes, Roman. Ten minutes, and he found his way into a room I built specifically to keep her safe from exactly this kind of scenario.”
“You couldn’t have anticipated Varley compromising that specific system. Nobody could have.”
“I should have changed those codes the moment I confirmed Varley’s betrayal. I didn’t. I was too focused on the immediate threat of Vale’s retaliation to consider that Varley might have left him a door already open. That’s on me.”
“You’re a man who’s been fighting separate fires at once for weeks, and something was always going to slip through the cracks eventually. You can’t catch every variable, Dmitri. Not even you.”
“Get some rest yourself,” I told him. “Once the perimeter is fully secured. I’ll need you sharp for whatever comes next.”
“And what does come next?”
I looked back toward Val, still sleeping, her hand curled loosely against her chest like she was holding onto something even in unconsciousness.
“We’re leaving,” I said. “For a few days. Somewhere Vale can’t reach.”
Roman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “The island?”
“The island.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll start arranging transport. Quietly.”
“Good.”
He left without further comment, and I sat back down beside Val, watching her sleep for a while longer.
I thought about the moment right before the attack started.
About the quiet truth we’d finally spoken to each other in our bedroom, the vulnerability of telling her I cared about her for the first time only to have the world explode around us moments later.
I wondered whether some part of me had known, even then, that saying it out loud carried its own kind of risk, that admitting how much she mattered to me made her a considerably larger target than she’d already become.
I didn’t regret saying it. I regretted the timing and hated the cruelty of a universe that seemed determined to test our every moment of genuine tenderness with immediate violence.
Val stirred sometime later, a disoriented sound escaping her as consciousness slowly returned. I shifted closer immediately, my hand finding her shoulder, grounding her before the confusion of waking up among chaos could fully spike into panic.
Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused for a moment, searching the room before finally landing on my face.
“Dmitri.”
“I’m here.”
“Is it really over?”
“The attack is over. The building’s secure. Vale’s men are either dead or detained.” I kept my voice low and steady as I added, “You’re safe.”
She sighed, her hand finding mine where it rested against her shoulder, gripping it tight enough that I felt her pulse still racing beneath her skin.
The first thing I said to her, once I was certain she was fully present, wasn’t reassurance.
“I’m sorry.”
She blinked at me, clearly not expecting that. “For what?”
“For putting you in a position where this could happen inside what was supposed to be the safest place in this entire city. That safe room was meant to protect you, and Vale walked through its locks like they were nothing, because I failed to close a vulnerability I should have closed the moment I confirmed Varley’s betrayal.
That’s not on Vale or some abstract failure of the system. That’s on me.”
Val tried to respond, her mouth opening, but her voice caught somewhere in her throat. Whatever she’d meant to say dissolved into a quiet, broken sound instead.
“Come here,” I told her, my voice low, already pulling her onto my lap.
She rested her head against my shoulder, and I pulled her closer without hesitation, wrapping my arms around her fully, holding her in a way that stripped away every ounce of composure I usually maintained in front of anyone else.
There was no arrogance left in me in that moment, no careless charm, nothing except exhaustion and a quiet, burning anger at the entire situation that had put her in that room in the first place.
After a long moment, I pulled back just enough to look at her properly. My decision solidified as I thought of the safe room’s compromised codes again.
“We’re leaving,” I said. “For a few days. Somewhere Vale has no way to reach either of us.”
She looked up at me, her confusion clearing slowly into something more attentive. “Leaving where?”
“We can’t solve this standing inside a target, Val. Vale’s escalated past internal infiltration into direct, physical attacks on our home. Staying in Las Vegas gives him more opportunities, not fewer, every single day we remain reachable.”
“So where do we go?”
“My island.”
She blinked at that. “You have an island?”
“A private one, off the coast, far removed from anything connected to our usual operations that Vale has no infrastructure there at all. No networks he can breach. No surveillance vulnerabilities he can exploit. No access points he can use without announcing his presence from miles away.” I watched her carefully, gauging how she was taking this on top of everything else the night had given her.
“It’s not a solution. It’s a withdrawal.
A chance to regroup somewhere he can’t reach either of us while Roman and Nikolai work the actual problem from here. ”
“Is it actually safe? Or just safer than here?”
“It’s safe. Nothing is absolute in this world. But it’s isolated enough that reaching it requires resources and planning Vale hasn’t had time to build. A boat, or a private plane, both of which we control access to completely. He’d need weeks to even locate it, let alone stage anything against it.”
“Who else knows about it?”
“Roman. My brothers. A small staff who maintain it year-round and have been with the family long enough that I trust them completely.” I held her gaze. “Nobody outside that circle. Not even Varley knew its exact location, only that it existed.”
I watched her weigh it, some quiet negotiation happening behind her tired, red-rimmed eyes. And then, probably for the first time since I’d known her, she didn’t argue.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Something in my chest eased slightly at that, at the relief of not having to fight her on something this necessary. On the other side, though, the ease of her agreement told me plainly enough how frightened tonight had actually left her.
“I need you to understand something,” I said, holding her gaze steadily. “This isn’t me controlling your movements, or deciding for you the way I might have handled things before any of this started. This is survival. Distance is the only variable I can currently guarantee, and I intend to use it.”
“I know.” She reached up, her hand touching my face gently, the same gesture I’d used on her so many times now offered back to me. “I’m not fighting you on this, Dmitri. I understand exactly what tonight means. I felt it firsthand.”
I held her a while longer in the quiet living area, security still working through the building’s remaining vulnerabilities somewhere beyond these walls. At least for now, I had bought us both something we badly needed.
Distance. Time. A chance to breathe.
Roman returned once transport arrangements were confirmed, briefing me quietly near the door while Val gathered what few things she’d need, moving through the motions like someone functioning on autopilot rather than genuine steadiness.
If Nadia weren’t off duty, I would have made her do the packing.
Hell, I would have done it myself if I didn’t know it might make her uncomfortable.
“Plane’s ready within the hour,” Roman said. “Pilot’s cleared, flight path routed through two decoy filings to obscure the actual destination. Nobody outside this building will know where you’ve actually landed until you’re already there.”
“Good.”
“I’ll stay here and run point with Nikolai on the investigation. You’ll have a secure line if anything urgent comes up, but otherwise, I’d suggest treating this the way it’s meant to be treated. An actual withdrawal, not a working vacation where you spend the whole time on calls with me.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try harder than that, Dmitri. She needs you present, not half-present while your attention stays here.” Roman’s voice carried none of its usual teasing edge.
“You’ve earned a few days of actually being somewhere else.
Take them. And if you still need someone to blame for this, blame me. I’m your right-hand.”
I couldn’t say anything in response to him.
But I knew this: I needed Val to be out of here.