Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Milana
I bolt toward the bedroom door. I need to find Kirill, or Maxim.
Just as my hand reaches for the doorknob, I freeze as I hear approaching footsteps. I listen closely, and I can tell it's more than one person by the voices.
The voices are low, almost whispers, but the hallway is so quiet that I catch every word.
“What if they’re not out yet?” one man mutters. “Maybe we should wait a little longer before going in.”
Out? What does he—
The second man scoffs. “The boss said we move now. If they’re not unconscious, we’ll knock them out ourselves.”
A chill races down my spine. My eyes dart to the coffee tray. Oh God, the coffee.
My gaze shifts to the glass of water I didn't touch. If I’d taken a sip, I’d be lying beside Calina right now.
My stomach twists. I rush back to the sofa.
“Calina.” I shake her shoulders. “Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Please.” I shake her harder. “Come on.” Her head lolls to one side.
The footsteps are getting closer to the bedroom. Think, Milana. Think.
I don’t have time to drag Calina out. I need another plan. My eyes land on the crystal flower vase sitting on the coffee table.
I snatch it up before quickly lowering myself on the floor close to the sofa. At the last second, I let the vase slip from my hand.
It falls onto the rug beside me with a dull thud, rolling onto its side.
Perfect. It looks like it fell when I collapsed. I close my eyes and force my breathing to slow, praying and hoping my plan works.
The bedroom door creaks open. “They’re out,” one man says with a satisfied laugh. “See? I told you.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get them to the basement.”
I hold my breath, forcing myself not to breath.
“Hurry up.”
“The boss wants them in the basement before anyone notices.”
“I’ll take the one on the sofa.”
“I’ve got the one on the floor.”
A shadow falls across my face, and my nostrils are assaulted with the smell of nicotine mixed with sweat.
I feel him getting closer, closer… I wait, heart beating so fast, it’s a surprise it hasn’t jumped out of my mouth yet.
One more step. Now. My eyes fly open, I quickly reach for the crystal vase, and with every ounce of strength I have, I swing it upward.
A crack echoes through the room as it connects with the man’s temple. He cries out before collapsing to the floor in a heap.
The second man who’s trying to carry Calina jerks around. “What the—”
I’m already moving. I drive my knee hard into his groin.
He doubles over with a strangled scream, both hands dropping instinctively to protect himself.
“You bitch!”
I take advantage of his position and slam my elbow into the side of his neck. He stumbles, and before he can recover, I drive the edge of my hand into the side of his throat.
His eyes roll back and crumples to the floor beside his partner.
For a second, the room is silent except for my ragged breathing. I spin back to the sofa. “Calina.”
Nothing. I need to get us out of here. I hook my arms beneath hers and pull. She barely moves.
“Oh, come on.”
I pull harder, but she’s completely limp. Tears sting my eyes. I could leave her here and go look for help, but I can’t. It’s only a matter of time before those men regain consciousness.
Gripping her beneath the arms, I begin dragging her across the floor. Every inch feels like a mile, and by the time I reach the bedroom door, my arms are burning, but I can’t stop to rest.
I drag her into the hallway and find it empty. I have no idea where Kirill and Maxim are. Probably they're still downstairs where we left them?
There’s only one way to find out. I fill my lungs and scream. “Help!”
My voice echoes through the hallway. “Kirill!” I scream again, louder this time. “Maxim! Help!”
I keep shouting, praying one of them hears me before it’s too late.
Maxim and I are outside going over the final security arrangements with four of Maxim's men that we're be leaving behind to stay with Milana and Calina.
Even with Ivan’s men surrounding the estate, neither of us is comfortable relying solely on them.
“Two men outside the ladies’ room,” I say. “Another two at the end of the hallway.”
“No one goes in or out without one of you knowing,” Maxim adds, and the men nod.
We’re still going over the finer details when a scream tears through the estate. “HELP!”
My blood turns to ice. That's Milana's voice. Before anyone can react, I’m already running back inside. I burst through the front doors, Maxim right behind me.
We sprint through the foyer and up the grand staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Ivan is nowhere in sight, and neither are the men that had been in the living room a minute ago. What's going on?
Another scream echoes through the mansion. “Kirill!”
“Milana!”
I round the corner at full speed. My heart nearly stops when I find Milana in the hallway, dragging Calina across the floor by her arms. What the hell is going on?
She’s crying. The moment she sees me, she lets go of Calina.
“Kirill!”
I reach her in seconds, grabbing her shoulders. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
She throws herself into my arms. “We need to leave this place. They’re going to hurt us!” Her whole body is shaking. “They drugged Calina's coffee.”
My stomach drops. I knew bringing them here was a bad idea. I should have listened to my gut.
Maxim is already on his knees beside his wife. “Calina.” He carefully lifts her into his arms. “Baby, wake up.”
His jaw clenches. “We need to get her to a hospital.” He already has Calina securely in his arms.
We turn toward the staircase, only to stop short as armed men pour into the hallway, cutting off our escape. At least a dozen of them spread out in front of us, rifles raised, leaving no path forward.
These aren’t the welcoming guards who greeted us earlier. Their faces are hard, expressionless.
One of them, a bulky, bald man with a scar running down the side of his face, steps forward. He raises his rifle another inch, his expression unreadable.
“I’m afraid…” He lifts his rifle another inch. “…none of you are going anywhere.”
The hallway falls deathly silent.
I step in front of Milana. “Move.” None of the men budge.
“I said move.”
The guard with a scar doesn’t so much as blink. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
A cold feeling settles in my gut. My eyes sweep the hallway. Where are our men? I exchange a look with Maxim.
I feel Milana’s grip on the back of my shirt tighten. Maxim carefully shifts Calina’s weight in one arm and draws his pistol with the other.
I do the same and the hallway instantly fills with the metallic clicks of rifles being raised.
I’m one second away from pulling the trigger when a voice cuts through the tension.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Every head turns. Ivan strides down the hallway, parting the armed men as he makes his way toward us. His expression is one of irritation.
Maxim doesn’t lower his weapon. “What the fuck is this?”
“You promised they’d be safe,” I growl. “So why are your men pointing guns at us?”
Ivan stops a few feet away. For a moment he says nothing.
Then his shoulders sag, and the warmth immediately disappears from his face. “I’m afraid,” he says with a weary sigh, “the two of you will have to forgive me.”
My stomach drops. The bastard.
“I had no choice.”
“No choice?” Maxim snaps.
Ivan rubs a hand over his face. “Michael forced my hand. He has information about the Pantheon.” His eyes harden. “Information he never should’ve had.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “His father was a fool. Adrian should never have allowed Michael anywhere near the Society’s affairs.” Ivan exhales. “And now that he's dead, Michael inherited enough information to destroy everything.”
He looks each of us in the eye. “He has been blackmailing. So, when I saw the opportunity to protect my interest, I took it.”
“So you sold us out,” Maxim says coldly.
Ivan doesn’t deny it, he gestures helplessly. “Yes, or else everything I’ve spent decades building would burn.”
His gaze settles on Maxim. “I’m sorry, Maxim. I truly am, but I have to protect myself.”
Rage explodes inside me. “You fucking coward.” I fire, and the shot echoes through the hallway, hitting Scarred Face in the head.
Chaos erupts. Maxim moves at the same time, returning fire while shielding Calina as best he can.
Bullets slam into the walls. The hallway erupts into shouting. There are too many of them. Someone crashes into me from the side, I throw him off and swing.
Another comes from behind. I barely have time to turn. Something heavy slams into the back of my skull and white-hot pain explodes through my head.
My knees buckle, no… somewhere nearby, I hear my name. “Kirill!”
Milana. I need to get her out of here. I try to get back up, but my vision blurs. Another blow lands on my head, and everything tilts.
I hear Maxim roaring, Milana screaming again. I claw at the floor, trying to force my body to obey. Get up. Get to her. Protect her.
Darkness creeps into the edges of my vision.
No… please… Milana…
The last thing I hear before everything disappears is her terrified scream.
Consciousness returns slowly.
A dull ache throbs at the back of my head, each pulse sending fresh pain through my skull. I groan and instinctively try to lift a hand to the injury, only for rough rope to bite into my wrists.
I frown and pull harder. My arms are bound tightly behind the chair I’m sitting on, my ankles lashed to its legs. The ropes barely give no matter how much I strain against them.
What happened? Where am I? A groan escapes me as fragments begin returning. My eyes fly open.
The room is dimly lit, the air damp and stale. Bare concrete walls surround us, and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling casts long, wavering shadows across the floor. This looks like a basement.
Panic surges through me. “Milana…” My voice comes out hoarse.
Almost immediately, I hear her. “Kirill.”
Relief hits me so hard it almost brings me to my knees. I turn toward the sound.
She’s tied to a chair against the far wall, her wrists secured behind her back just like mine. Her eyes are red from crying, but she’s alive.
Thank God.
Beside her, Calina is slumped forward in another chair, still groggy, her head hanging as she slowly begins to regain consciousness.
I twist the other way.
Maxim is tied to a chair right beside mine, his head lowered, a smear of dried blood visible near his temple. He groans and slowly lifts his head, blinking as he struggles back to consciousness.
“Maxim,” I call.
He looks over at me, then around the room, and I see the realization settle over his face. We’re prisoners. Ivan delivered us straight into Michael’s hands.
He groans. “We need to…”
Before he can finish, the basement door swings open, and every head turns.
Ivan walks in first. Michael follows behind him with his hands clasped together, a wide smile stretched across his face, like the cat that got the canary.
Several armed guards file in behind them, taking up positions around the room.
Michael slowly looks from one captive to the next. Then he laughs.
“Well…” he spreads his arms dramatically, “… if this isn’t a full house.”
He begins pacing in front of us. “I have to admit,” he grins. “I’ve been dreaming about this.”
He stops directly in front of Maxim. “Everyone I wanted,” his smile widens. “All in one place.”
Maxim glares at him. “What do you want?”
Michael bursts into laughter. “You know,” he wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “I find it adorable that you’re asking me that.”
He walks over to a nearby workbench. Several tools lie neatly arranged across it. His fingers trail lazily over them before he picks up a heavy rubber baton.
He weighs it in his hand, then turns back toward Maxim. He twirls the baton once.
“So, how about you start by bringing my father back to life?”
Thud. The baton slams into Maxim’s ribs. He grunts, his chair rocking backward before crashing back onto all four legs.
Michael crouches in front of him. “Well?” He tilts his head. “Can you do it?”
Silence. Michael sighs dramatically. “No?” He stands. “What a shame.”
Maxim spits blood onto the floor near his shoes. “He begged, you know. Your father.”
Michael’s smile disappears.
“He begged for his life before he died.”
Rage flashes across Michael’s face. He lunges, and his fist crashes into Maxim’s jaw. Then another, and another.
Michael finally steps back, breathing heavily. He wipes his knuckles against his trousers.
“No.” He smiles again. “I’m moving too fast. This will not end quickly.”
He points the baton toward Maxim. “My father suffered.” His voice drops to almost a whisper. “So will you.”
He smiles. “I’m going to make sure you beg. Just like he did.”
I pull against my restraints. “Michael.”
His attention shifts to me.
“You’ve got what you wanted.” I nod toward Maxim. “Us. Let the women go. They have nothing to do with this.”
Michael stares at me for a long moment, then he laughs. A wild, unhinged one that echoes around the basement.
“Oh, Kirill,” he shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
He slowly walks toward Milana and Calina. “They have everything to do with this.”
He gestures toward the sisters. “They’re Morozovs.” He looks back at Maxim. “That family took everything from me.” He spreads his arms. “So now, I’m taking everything from them.” His gaze settles on Milana, then Calina, and back to Maxim. “Every single one of you is going to pay.”