Chapter 17 Rowan #2
Vehicles surge across the driveway, engines roaring as Kiren’s security team intercepts them before they can reach the inner grounds. Headlights sweep across the trees while armed guards move into position along the fence line.
Gunfire cracks through the cold air again.
Lila exhales slowly through her nose. “Jesus.”
I guide her farther down the hallway toward the center of the house, where the structural walls provide better protection from the windows. The doctor in me moves into quiet assessment as we walk, watching her breathing, her balance, and any sign of strain along the wound in her side.
“You need to stay upright,” I tell her gently, guiding her toward a narrow bench along the wall. “No twisting.”
She lowers herself carefully onto the cushion, keeping pressure off the injured side.
Outside, the exchange intensifies. Short bursts of gunfire erupt again. Men shout across the grounds, their voices carried by the cold air in broken pieces. I hear the sound of Russian among them, rough syllables that roll across the distance before dissolving into more gunfire.
The estate lights illuminate the snow so brightly that every moving figure becomes visible against the white ground. Through the narrow window, I see three men pushing forward along the fence line with weapons raised. One of them drops suddenly when return fire cuts through the darkness.
The remaining figures attempt to rush the outer gate, moving with the reckless urgency of men who understand they are running out of time. They never reach it.
Another burst erupts from Kiren’s security team positioned along the driveway, the shots echoing sharply against the surrounding trees.
Lila grips the edge of the bench beside her.
“This is insane,” she murmurs.
I crouch beside her and rest a hand lightly against her arm, keeping my voice quiet and grounded the way I would with a frightened patient in the emergency department.
“It’ll be over soon.”
The fight outside continues for another brief stretch that feels much longer from inside the house.
Gunfire cracks through the air in uneven bursts. Engines growl across the driveway as vehicles reposition along the perimeter. Men shout commands across the snowy ground as security closes in on the attackers.
Then a final sequence of shots erupts in rapid succession before the sound fades and silence returns almost abruptly.
The sudden absence of gunfire settles over the house like the quiet that follows a storm.
Snow continues drifting across the estate while vehicle engines idle somewhere in the distance.
I listen instinctively for another shot, but none comes.
Lila releases a breath she has been holding and leans back slightly against the wall.
“Is it done?” she asks quietly.
“I think so.”
We remain in the hallway for several minutes, neither of us moving while distant radio chatter carries faintly across the grounds outside.
Footsteps approach from the front entrance. Heavy boots cross the marble foyer. A moment later, one of Kiren’s security men appears at the end of the corridor. Snow clings to the shoulders of his coat, and the faint metallic scent of gunpowder follows him into the hallway. He stops when he sees us.
“Doctor Hale,” he greets respectfully.
“Report,” I answer automatically before the word even passes through conscious thought. Hospital habits follow you everywhere.
“They attempted entry through the outer gate,” he explains calmly. “Four men.”
“Any injuries on your side?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “No.”
“And them?”
The words linger quietly in the hallway. They never reached the house. I nod slowly and glance toward the window again, where security vehicles move along the driveway while armed guards continue sweeping the perimeter to confirm the grounds are clear.
Lila exhales softly beside me. “That ended fast.”
The guard gives a brief nod.
“Security will remain doubled through the night. You are safe here,” he assures us.
He turns and disappears back down the corridor. The house grows quiet again. Yet the silence feels different now.
I rise slowly and help Lila stand. “Come on,” I murmur gently. “Let’s get you off your feet before that wound starts protesting again.”
She nods and allows me to guide her back toward the sitting room. Behind us, the hallway remains quiet, though the gunfire still seems to linger faintly in the air.
The sitting room looks exactly the way we left it. Two cups of tea rest on the table between the chairs, thin ribbons of steam still rising toward the ceiling while snow continues floating across the estate beyond the tall windows.
The room remains warm and quiet. My nerves don’t.
Lila lowers herself carefully into the cushions of the armchair, one hand bracing against the armrest.
“You good?” I ask quietly.
She nods once, though the motion carries more determination than confidence.
“I will be,” she murmurs, adjusting her position. “Once this week stops trying to kill us.”
A quiet breath escapes me before I sit down on the sofa and reach for my mug. The tea has cooled slightly during the chaos, yet the warmth still grounds my hands as I wrap my fingers around the ceramic.
Outside the estate grounds, the grounds glow beneath the security lights while armed guards move across the snow in wide patrol patterns. Engines hum faintly in the distance as vehicles circle the perimeter road, their tires grinding softly across frozen gravel.
Security has doubled. Probably more than that. My eyes follow one of the vehicles as it moves along the far side of the property before disappearing behind the trees.
“They knew tonight mattered,” Lila murmurs after a moment.
I glance toward her. “Who?”
“The men who came here.” Her eyes remain fixed on the window. “They didn’t drive into a fortified estate on a random night.”
The tension in her voice mirrors the thoughts moving quietly through my own mind. Ivan’s organization has been unraveling piece by piece since Kiren began dismantling it. Men operating within a collapsing structure often make reckless choices when the ground beneath them begins to give way.
“They must have known the operation was happening tonight,” she continues quietly.
I lift the mug and take a slow sip while considering the same possibility. If Ivan fell tonight, the men who followed him would feel that collapse immediately. A final strike against Kiren might have looked like the only remaining move they had left.
The tea tastes faintly bitter now.
Lila exhales and leans back in the chair, her hand resting lightly against her side.
“Rowan,” she murmurs after a moment, “this is insane.”
A tired breath escapes me before I answer. “You’re not wrong.”
The room grows quiet again. The estate is secure, yet my chest still feels tight from what happened minutes ago. When my phone vibrates softly on the table, the sound immediately pulls my attention down.
Kiren.
The tight pressure beneath my ribs loosens when I pick up the phone and answer before the second vibration.
“Are you safe?” he asks immediately.
“Yes,” I reply. “A group of men tried to force the outer gate. Your security intercepted them before they reached the house.”
A brief pause follows. “I was informed.”
Of course, he was. Nothing that happens on this property escapes him.
“How is Lila?” he asks.
I glance toward her. She’s watching me closely while holding her tea between both hands.
“She’s okay. No strain on the wound.”
“Good.”
There is a brief pause on the line before I ask the question that has been waiting since the gunfire ended. “What happened at the depot?”
His exhale travels softly through the phone. “The operation is finished.”
The words hang in the quiet room like a change in pressure.
“Ivan?” I probe.
“Dead.”
I close my eyes briefly and lean my head back against the sofa. The man who set so much of this chaos in motion will never threaten anyone again.
Lila studies my expression carefully.
“I take it the explosion worked,” I murmur into the phone.
“Yes.”
His voice remains calm, though fatigue sits beneath the surface of it. “The depot and everything inside it are gone.”
Kiren speaks again. “This isn’t finished.”
My eyes open slowly. “What do you mean?”
“We knew Ivan wasn’t the one behind everything,” Kiren replies after a moment. “He was useful to someone. Ambitious enough to build what they needed.”
I sit forward on the sofa, my fingers tightening around the phone. “But tonight gave you something,” I murmur.
“Yes.” The single word holds quiet certainty. “I have a clearer picture now of who’s been guiding him,” he continues.
A shiver runs down my spine. “Do you know who it is?”
“I have a name in mind.” The careful phrasing doesn’t escape me. Kiren rarely speaks that way unless he’s already working several steps ahead.
“Which means,” I say slowly, “this war isn’t over.”
“No, it isn’t.” His voice leaves no room for doubt.
Outside the window, another patrol vehicle glides along the perimeter road while guards move through the snow beneath the floodlights.
“You should sleep,” Kiren adds after a moment.
A faint, tired smile touches my mouth. “That might take a while tonight.”
A quiet breath of restrained amusement reaches me through the phone. “Try.”
“I will.” I pause momentarily before I speak again. “Be careful tonight.”
His answer comes immediately. “I always am, moya.”
Lila watches me carefully from across the room, her fingers tightening slightly around the mug in her hands.
“Ivan?” she asks.
I shake my head.
She stares at me, as if the meaning takes a moment to reach her fully. Then the breath leaves her in a slow rush. Her shoulders drop, and she leans back against the chair, one hand pressing briefly over her face before sliding down again.
“Good,” she whispers, the word soft but full of emotion. “Good.”
Relief moves through her expression in waves, mixed with anger that clearly hasn’t faded yet. “He can’t come after Jonathan again,” she adds quietly. “Or you.”
Her gaze lifts back to me. “Or anyone else.”
“Yes,” I say softly.
Her eyes narrow. “But?”
I glance toward the window. “Kiren believes Ivan wasn’t working alone.”
The relief in her expression fades slowly. “Of course he wasn’t,” she murmurs under her breath. “Arkady may be dead, but someone else was still behind Ivan. Someone using him.”
Outside, security vehicles move along the driveway while armed guards patrol the perimeter. The house is protected. The gates remain closed.
Yet as I watch the slow sweep of patrol lights across the snow, one truth forms quietly in my mind. Tonight didn’t end the war. It only changed who’s left standing.