Chapter 8 Kiren #2
She hesitates, then begins recounting the details. “He kept murmuring about betrayal. About danger. He mentioned a name without context. He wanted to warn someone called pakhan.” She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. “The name he mentioned was Arkady.”
The air in the room grows colder.
“Arkady Voronin,” I confirm. “My father's strategist and a senior captain. A man who has served our organization for decades. A man I trusted.”
“Trusted,” Rowan repeats, noting the past tense.
“Until now.” I draw a slow breath through my nose, adjusting my stance. “Alexei discovered that Arkady orchestrated my father's assassination. He’s been dismantling my support structures from the inside, preparing to seize control.”
Rowan's hand rises to her mouth. “And you think he knows about me? About what Alexei told me?”
“I know he does,” I correct. “Your brake line didn’t fail by accident, Rowan. It was deliberately severed. The SUV that followed you was one of his.”
She shakes her head, backing toward the door. “No. This is insane. I'm a doctor. I don't have anything to do with your world.”
“You became part of my world the moment you heard Alexei's confession,” I counter, stepping forward. “Arkady views you as a liability. A loose end. And in our world, loose ends don’t survive.”
Her breathing turns ragged, her chest rising and falling too fast. “You need to leave me alone, Kiren. You need to fix this without dragging me into it.”
“I can’t do that,” I tell her, and the honesty in my voice seems to surprise her. “You’re already in it. The only question is whether you’ll allow me to protect you or whether you’ll continue pretending you’re safe.”
She stares at me, her eyes searching mine for deception. Then, quietly, “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to move into a secured apartment,” I answer. “One of my properties. Guarded. Monitored and protected.”
“You want to lock me up,” she translates.
“I want to keep you alive,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
Rowan looks away, her jaw working as she processes the information. When she looks back, her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “I have a life, Kiren. A job. A family. I can't just disappear.”
“You won’t disappear,” I assure her. “You’ll continue your life, but with precautions. With security that doesn’t look like security. With someone watching over you who blends into your world.”
“Who?” she demands.
“Leonid Markov,” I reply. “American-born, trained in private security. He will pose as a corporate consultant assigned by Sovarin Biomedical to ensure your safety after the accident. Your colleagues won’t question it.”
She crosses her arms again, hugging herself. “And what do I tell my brother? My mother? They’ll ask questions.”
“Then we’ll give them answers,” I assure her. “Answers that are close enough to the truth to be believable but vague enough to avoid panic.”
Rowan's eyes narrow. “What answers?”
I straighten and move back toward my desk, giving her space to breathe.
“We’ll them that the accident wasn’t random.
That there are credible concerns about targeting.
That Sovarin Biomedical has corporate security involved because of unrelated threats, and that they offered you temporary housing until the situation is resolved. ”
She considers this, her expression skeptical. “Ethan will hate it.”
“Ethan will accept it if you frame it correctly,” I counter. “If you tell him yourself. Insist that you feel safe. And if he meets Leo and sees real security measures in place.”
Rowan rubs her temples, exhaustion evident in every line of her body. “And my mother?”
“You tell her there were security concerns after the accident,” I continue. “That Sovarin Biomedical has corporate housing for consultants and physicians involved in sensitive work. That you’ll be there for a few days while everything gets sorted out.”
She drops her hands and meets my gaze. “A few days?”
“Or however long it takes to neutralize the threat,” I amend.
Rowan laughs, but the sound is hollow. “You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not simple,” I admit. “But it’s necessary.”
She looks toward Mikel, who has remained silent throughout the conversation. “Does he agree with this plan?”
Mikel's expression doesn’t change, but his eyes dart to me briefly before returning to her. “The pakhan's decision is final.”
“Pakhan?” Rowan's mouth twists, understanding dawning in her eyes. “That's not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer that matters,” Mikel replies firmly.
She turns back to me, frustration radiating from her posture. “I don't want to be kept anywhere against my will.”
“Then agree willingly,” I suggest. “Because the alternative is watching you die while I stand by, powerless to prevent it. And I won’t do that.”
Rowan's expression softens fractionally, and for a moment, I see the same woman who allowed herself to be vulnerable in my arms.
Then the walls go back up, and she nods once. “Fine. But I need to call Ethan first. And my mother. I need to explain this myself.”
“Agreed,” I reply. “But you’ll do it from here, where I can ensure the calls are secure.”
She exhales slowly, then moves toward the chair I offered earlier and sinks into it. “This is unreal.”
“It’s very real,” I correct gently. “And it’s the only way to keep you alive.”
Rowan calls Ethan first. She puts the phone on speaker at my request, and I listen as she navigates the conversation with the same precision she uses in surgery.
“Ethan, I need you to listen without interrupting,” she begins, her voice firm.
“Ro, what's going on?” he asks immediately, suspicion already coloring his tone.
“The accident wasn't random,” she continues. “There are questions about whether someone was trying to scare me. Sovarin Biomedical already had corporate security involved because of unrelated threats, and they offered me a place to stay until things are sorted out.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “What threats?”
“I can’t go into details,” Rowan answers. “But the company takes employee safety seriously, and they have resources I don’t. I agreed to let them help.”
“You agreed,” Ethan repeats, disbelief evident. “Ro, this sounds insane. You don’t even work for them. You work for the hospital.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “That’s exactly why I hesitated. But this isn’t about working for them. It’s about safety. There will be professional security. Trained and vetted. I won’t be alone.”
Ethan's voice rises. “Who?”
“His name is Leonid Markov,” Rowan replies, glancing at me. “He works in private security. You can meet him if it makes you feel better.”
Another pause. Then, grudgingly, “I want to meet him.”
“Done,” Rowan agrees. “I’ll arrange it.”
Ethan's tone softens slightly. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am,” Rowan answers, and the conviction in her voice surprises even me. “I trust them to keep me safe.”
Ethan exhales loudly. “Fine. But I’m checking in on you every day. No exceptions.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Rowan replies, a faint smile touching her lips.
They end the call, and Rowan sets the phone down on the desk. She looks drained, her shoulders slumping as if the conversation took everything she had left.
“That went better than expected,” I observe.
“He’ll still investigate,” Rowan warns. “He’ll look into Sovarin Biomedical. Into you. And Leo.”
“Let him. He’ll find nothing that contradicts the story we gave him.”
Rowan picks up the phone again and dials her mother.
This conversation is shorter and more reassuring.
She uses the same language we discussed, framing the situation as a temporary precaution rather than an ongoing threat.
Her mother asks fewer questions than Ethan, her concern focused more on Rowan's physical recovery than the logistics of the arrangement.
When Rowan ends the call, she looks at me with exhaustion in her eyes. “What now?”
“Now we move you,” I answer. “Polina will take you to gather your essentials. Mikel will ensure the apartment is ready. Leo will meet you there within the hour.”
Rowan stands, swaying slightly. I move toward her instinctively, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “I can manage.”
“I know you can,” I reply. “But you don’t have to.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the distance between us feels insurmountable. Then she nods once and moves toward the door.
Before she reaches it, I call her name. “Rowan.”
She turns, her hand on the doorframe.
“This isn’t about controlling you,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. “It’s about narrowing the risk until we understand it. I won’t keep you anywhere you don’t agree to be.”
She studies me for a long moment, then murmurs, “I hope you mean that.”
“I do,” I assure her.
Mikel opens the door, and Polina steps inside. She offers Rowan a faint smile, her demeanor calm and professional. “Ready?”
Rowan glances back at me one more time, then nods and follows Polina out of the office.
The door closes behind them, and Mikel turns to face me. His expression is unreadable, but I know him well enough to recognize disapproval when I see it.
“You have objections,” I note.
“She’s a vulnerability,” Mikel replies bluntly. “Emotional attachments create weaknesses.”
“She’s also the only living witness to Alexei's confession,” I counter. “Protecting her is strategic.”
Mikel's eyes narrow. “You’re lying to yourself if you believe that’s the only reason.”
I don’t respond immediately. Instead, I move back to my desk and sink into the chair, my hands steepled in front of me. “Whether or not I have personal reasons is irrelevant. She’s under my protection now. That’s all that matters.”
Mikel holds my gaze for another moment, then nods once. “As you wish, pakhan.”
He leaves the office, and I’m alone again with the silence and knowledge that he’s right.
Rowan is a vulnerability. An emotional attachment I didn’t plan for and don’t fully understand.
But losing her isn’t an option. And that truth, more than any strategic justification, is what will guide every decision I make from this point forward.