48. Milana
MILANA
I freeze in shock. My heart is sprinting. Then I unbuckle my seatbelt at speed, ready to launch myself between the seats to protect Annushka’s body with mine.
Luca’s arm shoots out, holding me back. “Wait.”
His tone is so authoritative, I freeze in place.
I drag in a few desperate breaths. It’s quiet.
Nobody’s moving. Luca’s arm anchors me to him, forcing me to stay put.
I breathe, my gaze scanning the darkness, beyond the wash of snow, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
As the car leans weirdly forward, it hits me.
“Holy fuck. Masha! Those were gunshots! The tires!” I hiss at her, rage boiling up. How dare she bring us here?
“Keep quiet. I know these fuckers.”
She does? What the actual fuck? How dare they—
Masha opens her door, and cold air floods the car.
“Stop shooting, you mother-fucking assholes!” she screams into the night in Russian. “What the fuck are you thinking? There’s a baby here, you fucking stupid morons!”
She waits a few seconds, then takes in a deep breath, clambers out of the car and walks into its headlight beams. “And not just any fucking baby. You know whose grandchild you almost sent into the fucking afterlife? Fucking dumb idiots. Do you have a fucking death wish?”
Right on cue, Annushka starts to wail, and it’s a fist squeezing my heart.
“Don’t hurt her,” I beg, but the words are a mere breath.
Next to me, Luca is strangling the steering wheel, his jaw tense. He doesn’t move, but his gaze swoops around, taking in our surroundings, assessing.
“Masha said to keep still,” I translate for him. “She knows these guys.”
“Does she now?” His tone is dry, skeptical, cool-headed.
I swallow, almost too panicked to speak. “I have Chertnikov’s gun. It’s in the baby bag. With the satellite phone.”
“That’s my princess.” He huffs out a breath. “Keep it hidden. Use it when you need to, but let’s first suss out this situation.”
Masha is still clutching her gun, barrel pointed down, and is squinting into the night, as if trying to tune in on something coming from the side, seemingly clueless about where the danger lies.
A red laser beams onto her hand, and before she can move, she drops the gun and howls as the shot’s sound travels through the night.
“Jesus. Fuck.”
I clasp a hand to my mouth. “They just…they just shot her hand.”
In horror, I watch as Masha cups Annushka’s head with her good hand, trying to calm her, but it doesn’t help. She’s holding her other hand up in protest. In the halo of light, blood drips to the ground, seeping into the snow.
Two fingers.
Oh my God. Two of her fingers were shot right off.
An older man, in full camo hunting gear, steps up to her and kicks the gun away from her feet.
A knock on my window jolts me out of my trance. Another man is tapping on the door with his gun barrel. “Get out,” he says in Russian.
“Luca?” I can’t think. A rush of fear is swallowing me whole.
“Do as they say. As we just saw, they shoot first and might not bother to ask questions. We need to figure out how many they are,” he whispers fast. “Go with the flow, let me figure this out. If you have a chance to take the baby, do that, but deny she’s yours.
Whatever you do, you are not that baby’s mother. Fuck. The weather…you can’t even run.”
Another, more menacing knock follows, and I raise my hands. “Okay.”
“You and me princess. And Zoe. We’re getting the fuck out of here. Believe this. Believe in us.”
Believe in me. Trust me.
“Okay.” I lower my hand slowly, unlock the door, reach for the handle, and pop it open.
The man gives me space, but the barrel presses into my body as soon as I’m out of the car. “Who are you?”
“I’m Lana. Just the nanny. And my boyfriend, Luca. He doesn’t speak Russian.”
“We’ll see about that. Nanny, eh? Can you make the baby shut the fuck up?”
“I can try.”
“Try fucking hard.”
He pushes me with the gun in Masha’s direction as Luca gets the same treatment from the other guy.
There’s a yard between me and Masha. She’s still cupping a screaming Annushka’s head. Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t seem to register any pain. She isn’t even trembling, but she wipes at a tear with her thumb, streaking her good cheek with blood from where they shot off her fingers.
“Masha?”
“It’s nothing. But I didn’t think… This isn’t what I planned.”
Fucking hell. Now I’m blistering inside with rage, my fear and anger a toxic cocktail, but losing my shit isn’t going to help this situation—or get us out of it.
I drag in a slow, deliberate breath, forcing myself to be calm, trying to stop myself quivering.
To trust in Luca. To believe in something when all hope is gone.
“Don’t talk,” I say in Russian, but switch to English so Luca can be in the loop. “They want me to take the baby. Just to try calm her.”
“Taking my child, after they’ve taken everything from me? That tracks. That totally tracks,” she says in Russian, stepping back and clutching Annushka to her chest. “You don’t get to take my child.” This time in English, switching between the languages as if she was born bilingual.
But I catch the glint in her eye that isn’t acid-damaged. A glint that tells me everything: she is keeping up the show, for my benefit, to cement the idea that the baby is hers and not mine. For what it’s worth.
I still have no clue what she planned to happen here, but she’s doing damage control now. If she really was unhinged and wanted Annushka for herself, she wouldn’t have gone through all of this, would she? Waiting until now—
“Give this woman the fucking baby so we can deal with you.” The man pokes me again, making me fall over my feet and almost bump into Masha.
Masha laughs. “And what are you going to do with me, you fucking loser? Try something that hasn’t been tried before?” She lowers her hood and peels off her scarf, revealing the full extent of the Bratva’s horrific retribution on her face.
“Masha.” Luca’s voice comes from the side, cold. “Shut the fuck up. Give Lana the baby before we all get killed.”
He steps forward, and the barrel is gone from my back. Luca winces, buckles, and falls to his knees just as the sound rips past me.
“Luca!” I want to run over to him, but the barrel presses back in my side. God help us. It’s all out of control.
“Tell him to shut up too,” my Russian hisses over Annushka’s increasing screaming. “Or I shut him up permanently.”
“Fuck.” Luca chuckles, putting up a brave face. “Told you they’ll shoot without asking questions.” He’s clutching at his thigh, blood seeping through his jeans onto his fingers.
“You American? What the fuck? Why you in Russia?” my Russian says, his accent heavy.
“More like Italian,” Luca says, grinning up at him.
The Russians share glances, and I have no idea what it means.
“Italian?” the man who hasn’t spoken much repeats.
Luca rattles off a long sentence in Italian nobody understands.
“We go inside. We talk. We ask questions,” my Russian says in English, but then spits out in Russian, “For fuck’s sakes, take the baby and stop her crying. There were wolves here two days ago.”
“I–” I glance to the car. “I need the baby bag with her things. It’s in the car.”
The man nods, and I can’t afford to take chances.
I might have to shoot that gun tonight. I retrieve the bag, then step up to Masha, not able to look her in the eye.
I help her unstrap Annushka from the baby carrier with cold, dumb fingers and lift her out.
Masha’s tears flow, quiet, but not desperate.
“It’s going to be okay, malysh, I’m still here,” she whispers to Annushka as she gives me a nod and lets her go.
Has she lost her fucking mind or what? I’m numb with rage, with fear and dread. In what world does she think what’s happening here is actually going to turn out with all of us leaving this place alive?
As soon as Annushka is in my arms, it’s as if the worlds shifts.
It quiets. She quiets. My heart breaks for Masha because her one eye is hollowed out with a motherly pain I’ve lived with for months.
She loves this baby like her own. I bite my lip hard, not wanting to give the intensity of the moment away.
The man scoots us forward with the gun.
“Let me help him,” Masha says as she steps out of line to Luca. She holds out her hand to him and helps him up.
They are dripping blood, and I want to take care of both of them. The Russians say nothing and herd us into the log cabin, Luca limping but not taking Masha’s offered arm.
As soon as we’re inside, I quickly take stock.
It’s still the same as years ago but worn and decayed with more than age.
Nobody has really been here for years, and it’s slowly going to pieces.
But a fire is dancing in the giant hearth, and at least we’re out of the cold as the Russians stomp the snow off their boots without taking an eye off us.
They split us up. One man takes me and Annushka to the room that used to be a bedroom, now stripped of all furniture.
“You stay here while we talk to your Italian. Don’t try anything stupid. Both your Italian’s and Masha’s lives are in the balance. And just for the record, I won’t think twice about killing her too.”
He points the gun at Annushka, and I cower as his words constrict me like a thousand snakes, choking me up. I don’t need any more demonstrations of how they just shoot for no reason.
“Masha has no life,” I say. “They call her a witch. I wouldn’t mess with her if I were you.”
“Nice try,” he says and laughs in my face. “I don’t believe in that shit.”
He strolls out, closing the door behind him, leaving me in no doubt that they know exactly who she is, but have no clue who I am. There’s no lock, and I slowly lower the baby bag to the floor, clinging tighter to Annushka.
I sway with her in my arms, kissing her head, letting my tears stream down. I try to keep her calm and find my own equilibrium. I’m alone with my baby—finally, my tiny girl in my arms—but this isn’t how I envisioned any of this going. I want to walk back, help Luca, get him out of here.
Because if we don’t get out of here, where will we end up?
With Chertnikov.
But whatever happens, he can’t get hold of us. He’ll show no mercy.
Luca is already wounded, and Masha is spiraling.
I’m the only one of us with a gun.
I should walk out of here, wielding the gun and shooting without asking questions, but I’d have to put Annushka down.
How could I choose to leave her behind while she’s still crying, and instead go out there with my pathetic gun skills?
There are two shooters on the other side of the door. They’ve shown no mercy.
I don’t want to know what they would do to an innocent baby. Never mind a little girl.