25. Aleksandr
ALEKSANDR
I don’t even bother responding.
We both know my attendance isn’t voluntary. Nikolai Malyshko doesn’t send invitations because he misses me. He is issuing a command he expects to be followed. Refusal isn’t an option, not for me after the last few weeks.
Katerina is still curled up in our bed when I slip out from under the sheets, one arm flung across the pillow she stole from me sometime in the middle of the night.
Her dark hair spills like ink across white sheets.
I stand at the foot of the bed longer than I should, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing.
She looks peaceful in sleep, fragile in a way that makes something vicious twist behind my ribs.
I force myself to turn away.
Right as the sun is pushing past the tree line, I slip behind the wheel of my car and take off on the familiar route to Malyshko’s compound on the western edge of the city. The roads are empty at this hour except for delivery trucks and the occasional patrol car that gives me a wide berth.
When I reach them, the gates open without a word. The driveway winds through pines heavy with snow, their branches bowing under the weight.
By the time I park and am escorted inside, I find him already waiting in his study. My eyes flit around the room out of habit, taking in the same dark oak desk and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking snow-covered pines and the sunset beyond them.
He doesn’t rise when I enter, just gestures to the chair opposite him.
I sit.
There’s already a cup of coffee waiting—black, no sugar, light cream—with steam curling up in lazy spirals.
I reach for it out of habit, lifting it to my mouth.
The vapor swirls against my face for a second before taking a generous sip.
It’s made perfectly, just the way I like it.
Strong enough to strip paint, hot enough to scald.
A small courtesy that has always made me second-guess him from time to time.
He waits for me to set it down before beginning. “The government is scrambling.”
“I assume because of Borchin’s body turning up?”
He nods once. “The FSB raided his house early yesterday morning. Seized everything they could. They’re building the narrative as we speak—gambling debts that spiraled into treasonous behavior and ended up involving him in the wrong circles.”
I listen without interrupting. When there’s a pause, I ask, “That’s the story they’re going with? He was killed because of a deal gone bad?”
“More than likely.”
I sit on that for a moment.
It isn’t necessarily a bad narrative to spin.
It dovetails neatly with what Katerina announced to the world during the gala.
If the FSB plays its cards right, most people will forget about Borchin within the next few months.
He’ll be reduced to a cautionary headline, then a footnote, then nothing.
Erased from existence with little pushback.
No one this day and age likes a sloppy gambler.
Even less so if they come from affluence.
He leans back slightly in his chair, his fingers steepled in the air in front of him. The gesture is familiar—meant to look contemplative, but it borders on predatory.
“While I don’t approve of the stunt you pulled at the military gala,” he says, his voice even, “the cleanup you and Sasha did seems to have been quite beneficial.”
My brow raises at that. “How so?”
He fixes me with a steady look, those ice-gray eyes that miss nothing. “You removed a liability and made it the government’s issue to clean up. That was… quite impressive.”
I try not to let the surprise show on my face.
A compliment from Malyshko is rare. Rarer still when it comes wrapped in understanding rather than a threat. I hold his gaze for a beat, searching for the hook, the angle, the price tag that always follows praise from him.
“There’s a but coming,” I say.
He allows himself the faintest curve of a smile, gone in half a second.
So fleeting, I might have imagined it if I didn’t know better.
“While the FSB is thorough, they’ll trace the money eventually.
Some of it will lead back to accounts that brush too close to our interests.
Namely, yours, considering you were one of the loans.
Kuznetsov is already making things more difficult than they need to be.
He’s fixated on the situation. He’s expressed interest in taking control of the gap Borchin’s death left behind within the military. ”
I exhale through my nose. “He’ll move on eventually. He’s like a hound. Once he smells fresh blood, that’ll shift his interest.”
“Maybe so,” he murmurs, voice low, almost thoughtful. “However, this all could have been avoided had you listened to me in the first place. You are still walking a very thin line, Aleksandr. One more public spectacle and I will not hesitate to cut the rope. Permanently.”
I pick up the coffee again, take another slow sip to buy myself a second.
The threat—or rather, warning—isn’t a surprise to hear.
I saw it coming from miles away the first time we argued on the phone and he refused to lend me any kind of support.
Still, hearing it laid out so plainly makes the skin along my spine tighten.
What does surprise me is that he hasn’t already pushed me out of the Pact.
He could have. Should have, by his own rules. Nikolai doesn’t tolerate repeated breaches of discipline, especially not from someone who once preached the exact same gospel of detachment he’s now breaking.
He’s giving me another chance, for whatever reason.
Nikolai does nothing without a motive. Whatever he believes he needs me for far outweighs cutting me loose because he thinks I’m bringing more trouble than I’m worth. What that is, it’s anyone’s guess at this point.
“I will keep an eye on Kuznetsov,” I offer. “Make sure he doesn’t become too obsessed with the situation. The last thing we need is him trying to infiltrate the military.”
He studies me for a long moment, the ice-grey eyes unblinking, before nodding. He reaches for a slim folder on the desk and slides it across for me to take. I lift it into my lap without opening it.
“These are Kuznetsov’s contacts within the FSB. The ones who owe him favors. See to it they stick to the disgraced narrative for Borchin. We don’t need them coming up with a theory that will get the public riled up, even if that’s what Kuznetsov is aiming for.”
I nod. “Understood.”
I stand then, feeling the dismissal before he even needs to declare it out loud. The folder stays tucked under my arm as I find my way back to the door. When I reach it, my hand rests on the frame.
I pause.
Then I turn to look over my shoulder at him.
“While I’m sure you already know this, Katerina and I have been legally married.
While you may view her as a weakness, she is anything but.
She’s proven that much by taking down her own father.
Including being the one to end his life.
Whatever grievances you have toward her, I’ll answer for them personally. ”
He leans back into his chair, fingers interlacing loosely over his stomach. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. The silence stretches over us long enough that I have to fight the urge to flex my fingers around the door frame and give myself away that it unnerves me whenever he does this.
“Sasha gave me the same speech months ago,” he finally says. “About Alina.”
I frown slightly.
A ghost of amusement touches his lips. Not quite a smile, but close enough to unsettle me all the same. “You two are more alike than either of you will ever admit.”
I don’t deny it.
I’ve always felt the same even if I hate admitting it out loud.
The same reckless streak when it comes to the women who have managed to get under our skin.
The same willingness to burn bridges we once swore we would never touch to save them.
The same dangerous certainty that nearly toppling the Pact was worth the risk.
After another minute, he exhales. “I will not order her removal just yet, the same as I won’t with Alina. However, if emotions begin to cloud your judgment, and your decisions cost the Pact, I will have no choice but to remove one of you.” His gaze hardens. “Remember that.”
I hold his gaze without flinching. “If it comes to that, you’ll have to go through me to get to her.”
The ghost of a smile crosses his face again, small, almost approving. “Noted.”
I leave without another word.
The drive home is quiet. My mind turns over every angle that involves Kuznetsov. The problem is how patient he is. He doesn’t strike until the board is already tilted in his favor. If he’s moving now, he’s been planning on doing something for months.
I grip the wheel tighter. Whatever it is, it clearly has Nikolai concerned enough to bring it to the table to be dealt with.
When I arrive home, the gates open automatically. I park in the garage, kill the engine, and sit there for a minute letting the silence settle.
I’m tempted to involve Sasha in this. It wasn’t specified whether or not this little problem needed to stay contained within the confines of that study or not. It might be more valuable to get another angle to this. Namely, in the form of our other Pact member’s opinion.
But that is a problem to handle on a different day.
For now, I need to return to my wife.
I find her already waiting for me when I get inside. She stands at the top of the grand staircase barefoot, wearing one of my black sweaters that falls to mid-thigh. Her hair is loose, still damp from a shower. Happiness crashes through me so hard, my knees nearly give.
I take the stairs two at a time to get to her.
She meets me halfway.
I sweep her off her feet without breaking stride, her legs wrapping around my waist, arms looping around my neck. I carry her up the rest of the stairs and down the hallway to our room. I lay her on the bed gently, following her down, bracing myself on my forearms so I don’t crush her.
She pulls me into a kiss before I can speak, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. Her fingers thread through my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan against her mouth.
When we break apart, she rests her forehead against mine. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“I’ll always come back to you. No matter what,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to her lips.
The world outside may be fracturing, but here in this bed with her warm breath tangling with mine and her fingers tracing idle patterns across my back, none of it matters.
I hold her in my arms and I make the only vow worth keeping.
I will protect this.
I will protect her.
No matter the cost.