Chapter 14 – Kaz
After lunch, I leave Violet with a kiss on the forehead and a reminder to rest. She doesn’t ask where I’m going, but her eyes linger too long on mine—like she wants me to stay.
I wish I could, but I’ve been counting the days until Maxim and Arina’s return because I am finally ready to double down on security and find Violet’s attackers.
I shut the study door behind me and face Maxim and Arina, both already standing, waiting. They know the air in the room is different now. I’m a ticking bomb, and they can feel the tremors.
“Sit,” I order.
They do.
“Talk,” I say, voice like steel.
Maxim is the first to speak. “We traced the breach. It wasn’t an external hack, Boss. It was someone from inside your own command.”
The confirmation of what I already know feels like a knife between my ribs, but I don’t flinch. “We already knew that. The question is, who did this?”
Maxim purses his lips. “We don’t know yet. But the bounty went live three days before the attack.”
“Bounty?” I echo, already knowing I won’t like the answer.
Maxim nods. “Yes. There’s a bounty on Violet’s head. Placed by a rival Bratva. Big one. Could be the Orlovs, maybe the Pavlenkos. They’re keeping it anonymous, but the numbers aren’t quiet.”
“How much?”
Arina flicks their wrist, and a projection lights up from their tablet—the grainy dark web post, the blurred photo of Violet outside a club.
“Two million dead,” Arina says flatly. “Four alive.”
My vision narrows. I cross the room in three strides and look at the image—Violet’s face, circled in red like she’s prey. My stomach clenches, my rage boiling.
“She’s a fucking target,” I mutter. “Someone made her a prize.”
Maxim nods. “And whoever did it had access. They knew where she’d be. They knew the house’s weak points.”
“Could be anyone,” he adds after a beat, eyes flicking sideways. “Even Arina.”
Arina scoffs. “Maybe first check the men who think with their dicks instead of their heads.”
Maxim steps forward, but I hold up a hand.
“Enough.” My voice is calm. Dangerous.
“I don’t care if it’s a brother or a fucking blood bond. If someone in this house betrayed me, I’ll burn them alive. I will not let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever.”
They’re both quiet.
I look between them. “So stop this pissing contest and do your fucking jobs. Dig deeper. Ask the right questions. Threaten whoever you have to. We don’t eat, we don’t sleep, until we find out who sold Violet out.”
They nod, stiff and silent.
“She’s not just a guest anymore,” I say. “She’s mine. And if someone is hunting her, they’re declaring war on me.”
Maxim hesitates, and I catch it.
“What is it?” I ask, low and sharp.
He exchanges a quick glance with Arina. “I might have an idea who it could be.”
I stalk toward him. “Then fucking say it.”
“I can’t be sure,” Maxim replies tightly. “I want to lay a trap first. Let them think they’re safe and slip up. If we rush it—”
“I don’t care about guesses or maybes!” I roar, slamming my palm against the desk. “You want to lay a trap? While they make another move? While she gets hurt?”
The room is silent except for my ragged breathing.
“I want names,” I spit. “I want blood. Not theory.”
I turn to storm out, but Arina’s voice stops me cold.
“We should move Violet,” they say. “Get her out of the house. Into one of our holding facilities. Somewhere off-grid.”
I turn, furious. They take a step back from me, but continue. “Because now that we’re back, whoever did this knows their window is closing. I suspect they’ll strike again—soon. And I don’t trust your guards. Not all of them.”
My hands curl into fists. Everything feels like it’s fraying. Violet. The house. My men.
Maxim steps forward, measured. “Kaz—if I’m right, we’ll catch them in the next twenty-four hours. But if we don’t play this smart—”
I cut him off. “I’ve heard enough.”
I stalk toward the door again. “You two are wasting my time. Playing chess when I need fucking war.”
“Boss—” Arina starts.
I pause at the door. “I’m going to see Lukin. At least he remembers how to get shit done. You both are fucking useless.”
Arina stiffens. Maxim mutters a curse.
I storm out the door, fury in my veins, barking at Milo to get the car ready. “I want it out front in five. Armed. Now.”
As I head toward the bedroom, every step feels heavier than the last. Because I know what I have to do.
Despite my rage, Arina is right.
Violet isn’t safe here—not anymore. Not with traitors in my walls and bounty hunters sniffing around like wolves. I have to get her out of the estate. Move her somewhere more secure. A high-level holding facility where no one—not even my own men—will know where she is.
But not yet.
First, I need help. Real help.
Lukin.
Adrian.
Lukin has bled more than I’ve fought. His experience is unmatched, and he’s got something I’ve never had—a family. A child. A woman he’d raze the world to protect. He’ll understand the desperation clawing at my insides.
Adrian too. Stoic, ruthless, calculating—a brother. I helped him with Jennie. He owes me one. I need him now.
If it means swallowing my pride, so be it. I’ll bleed humility if that’s what it takes to keep her breathing.
But until then….
Today, I’ll have to do something that feels like betrayal: I’ll have to take Violet to the panic room.
It’s underground. Soundproof. Reinforced steel walls. Guards posted at every hallway. A fortress built to keep enemies out—and, unfortunately, to keep someone locked in.
Like a fucking prisoner.
My heart clenches at the thought. She’s not a prisoner. Not anymore. Not to me. But whoever’s after her? They’re hellbent on making her feel like one.
And to keep her safe, I’ll have to treat her that way—even if it kills me.
But I swear to God, every bastard who put this fear in her, every hand that dared reach for her, I will find them.
And I will make them pay.
I find Violet in the bedroom, barefoot and tucked beneath a throw blanket, reading some old classic she borrowed from my library. The soft light from the chandelier above casts a soft glow across her skin. She looks peaceful.
Too peaceful for what’s coming.
She perks up when she sees me, her eyes lighting up as I approach. I lean in, kiss her forehead, and murmur, “Come with me.”
She doesn’t ask why. She just slips on her sandals and follows, trusting me.
And that—that—cuts deeper than any betrayal ever could.
She walks beside me, humming something under her breath, brushing her fingers lightly along the banister as we descend the stairs. We pass the guards stationed at the hall, and she finally glances at me and asks, “Why are there so many guards here?”
I don’t answer.
Because if I do, I’ll unravel.
We reach the panic room—a cold, steel-lined vault of a space with reinforced walls, bulletproof doors, and security systems that would impress anyone who knows their stuff. Violet pauses at the threshold, her brows furrowing.
“Where are we going?” she asks, tilting her head as I input the passcode.
I pull the door open.
Inside, it’s clean. Minimalist. A bed. A bathroom. A stocked kitchenette. Everything designed for survival. Nothing for comfort.
She looks at it like it’s a cage.
“I need you to stay in here for a few hours,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I have some errands to run.”
She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she backs up slightly. “You’re joking, right? I’m not staying in there. That looks like a damn prison, Kaz.”
I meet her eyes, and the smile drains from her face.
“You don’t have a choice,” I say quietly.
Her breath catches. “Kaz….”
But I can’t listen.
I pull her gently—gently—inside, then step back.
The door begins to shut.
“No!” she screams, running forward. “Kaz, don’t do this! Please!”
Her palms slam against the steel just as the door locks in place with a heavy clunk.
I close my eyes. My chest burns.
Her voice echoes through the speaker system. “Kaz! Let me out! Don’t do this to me!”
I press the speaker button, and my voice comes out low and firm:
“You are mine, Violet.”
I pause, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
“And this is how I protect what belongs to me.”
She’s still screaming, but I force myself to finish.
“Stay there. Safe and sound. While I kill every bastard who’s ever thought of touching you.”
I slam the speaker off and walk away, her screams clawing at my spine. I do not look back. Not because I don’t want to. But because if I do—I’ll never be able to leave.
Her screams echo down the corridor even after I shut off the speaker. I’m halfway down the hall, and I can still hear her pounding on the door.
“Kaz, please! Please, I don’t like this. You can’t keep me safe like this—this isn’t safety. This is a cage!”
Her voice cracks, and it nearly brings me to my knees.
“Please…I’m begging you.”
I press my palm to the wall, needing the cold to keep me steady. But nothing can ground me when her voice sounds like that. Like she’s breaking.
And I’m the one doing the breaking.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and the darkness ushers in a memory I’ve never thought about until now.
I was fifteen. Still young. Still learning what it meant to lead. To rule. Lukin brought me to the warehouse after midnight. Said there was something I needed to see.
A man knelt on the floor, trembling. Blood at the corner of his mouth. He was someone I knew. Someone who had once ruffled my hair when I walked past. One of Father’s closest advisors.
He had betrayed us.
Lukin didn’t yell. Didn’t threaten. He simply pulled the trigger.
Cold. Unflinching.
When the body dropped, Lukin looked at me with that calm, emotionless face and said:
“Love, Kazimir…is one of the most beautiful things, but it’s also the surest way to get buried. You let someone close enough to own your heart, they’ll own your downfall too. So you don’t love recklessly. You lead. You protect the bratva, even from yourself.”
I nodded like I understood.
I didn’t. Not then.
But I understand now.
I slide down against the wall, my hands braced on my knees. My lungs burn with something I don’t recognize at first.
Fear.
Not for me.
For her.
For Violet, who is screaming behind reinforced walls. For Violet, who kissed my forehead earlier like it was nothing. Like I hadn’t destroyed her world and rebuilt it in my image.
I thought I could control it.
I thought if I kept her here—mine—then I’d be safe. That she’d be safe.
But the pounding in my chest says something else.
I love her.
I love her.
And it hits me like a fucking brick. Like a bullet to the ribs. Like a betrayal I never saw coming.
I stare ahead, numb, shaking.
Because if I love her—if Lukin was right—then I’ve already sealed her fate, and it wasn’t good. Just as I push myself up to my feet—gunfire. The sound rips through the estate like a scream—sharp, brutal, close.
Then another shot. Then three more.
Fuck.
I don’t think—I just run.
Down the hall, around the corner. The smell of smoke is already threading through the estate. We’re under attack again, just like Arina predicted. I feel something burning inside me. Not just anger. Rage. The kind that floods my blood and makes my vision pulse red.
Because this—again—means someone inside my walls opened the door.
I turn the corner and nearly collide with Milo, blood splashed across his cheek, his shirt torn at the collar. He’s dragging one of ours—Tomas—who’s bleeding from the leg.
“Three came in through the east corridor,” Milo shouts. “They knew exactly where to hit.”
My jaw clenches. I nod stiffly and delve into the fray.