Chapter 22
ANDREI
The plan worked. That should be the only thought in my head as the footage loops for the third time across the monitor in Petya’s surveillance room. Belov stepped out of hiding exactly the way I expected him to. He took the bait, exposed himself, and confirmed what we needed to know.
Strategically, it’s a success. Emotionally, it feels like a knife sliding between my ribs. Because I can’t stop watching the moment he climbed through her window like he belonged there. I watch the way he reached for her. The way he stood inside her apartment like he still had a claim to her.
She’d done what she’d promised and pressed the alarm. I radioed my men to hold back as I could see she wasn’t in imminent danger through the cameras I’d had placed in her apartment weeks ago.
My jaw tightens until I’m grinding my teeth. I don’t notice until Petya shifts beside me, careful, silent, waiting to see how I’m going to react, so I remain calm. I can always explode later.
“Keep eyes on every exit within six blocks,” I say finally, voice flat enough that it surprises even me. “I want him followed. I don’t want him taken yet, but I do want eyes on him at all times.”
“Yes, Pakhan.”
His words remind me of who I am. I am a leader. I am feared and respected. I’m not a simpering idiot who gets jealous of another man.
I refuse to feel jealous of Kostya, even as the feeling threatens to rip me to shreds. I can control my thoughts, but apparently my emotions are a little hard to keep in check. The realization makes my stomach turn.
I don’t get jealous. I don’t have time for emotions that sort of cloudy judgment or weakened resolve. I’ve spent years cutting those instincts out of myself piece by piece until there was nothing left that an enemy could use.
And yet I stood there, watching another man inside her space, close enough to touch her, and all I could think about was how easily I could put a bullet through his throat.
Not because he’s a threat to my organization, not even because he’s a threat to her.
Just because he looked at her like he still wants her.
I can’t let the jealousy win. I can’t let it consume me. There’s too much at stake. My very life, in fact. I get up and storm back to my living room, waiting for Alina to arrive.
By the time my men deliver her to the penthouse, my anger has settled into something colder and sharper. She steps out of the elevator surrounded by guards and numerous suitcases. She’s quiet and takes a moment to look around the place.
She’s clearly impressed, and that should please me. I should be happy that she likes where I live. I should offer her a tour and be a gracious host. Instead, tension follows her inside like an unwelcome guest.
She looks relieved to see me. That’s the worst part. She’s happy to have her confrontation with Kostya over with and I’m still reeling from it. He was the last man to touch her. He put his hand on her. I should kill him for that.
“Your room is at the end of the hall. Go unpack,” I tell her, voice rougher than intended. “I’ll speak to you later.”
The words come out harder than I mean for them to. I see it in the brief flicker of hurt that crosses her face before she hides it, straightening her shoulders. Good. Distance is safer for both of us.
My jealousy will destroy us. My love, though I still refuse to acknowledge it, will put us all in danger. Better that she’s angry with me. Better that she thinks I’m cold and dangerous.
She disappears down the hall with the guards and the sound of her footsteps fades into silence. I hate myself for speaking to her that way, but even so, I know it was the right move.
I walk straight into my office and close the door harder than necessary. Petya arrives minutes later.
“The perimeter’s secure,” he says. “There’s been no movement since the fire escape. We’ve lost visual, but we will find him.”
I nod once, already pacing. Stillness isn’t possible right now. Every nerve in my body feels wired too tight, like I’m waiting for a fight that hasn’t started yet.
“He threatened her father,” Petya adds carefully. “We heard it on the audio.”
My hands curl into fists before I can stop them. Of course he did. Belov doesn’t have power over her anymore, so he reaches for fear. For leverage. For anything that might still bind her to him.
It’s predictable. It’s pathetic. It makes me want to kill him slowly.
“Her father is safe,” I remind him. “Kostya couldn’t get to him even if he wanted to. It was just a scare tactic.”
“Maybe you’d like to mention that to her,” he suggests. “Just to put her at ease.”
“That will be all,” I answer, glaring at him.
Petya doesn’t argue. He never does. Yet he and I both know that I’m being an ass for no reason. I’m proving my authority just because I can, but my cruelty is unnecessary. To him and to Alina.
The door closes softly behind him, leaving me alone with the silence and the anger and the image of Belov standing too close to her in a room that should have been safe.
I stare at the city until the lights blur.
Then I pull out my phone and text the guard who’s been assigned to her.
Send her to me.
She walks into my office a few minutes later without hesitation or fear. She also doesn’t apologize for entering without knocking. She’s full of that same quiet strength that’s been undoing me piece by piece since the night we met.
For a second, I forget why I’m angry. All I can think about is pulling her into my arms and kissing her senseless.
Then I remember the footage and the familiarity Kostya showed her. I can’t stand to watch it. I need to hear from her exactly what happened.
“Tell me everything about your encounter with Kostya,” I demand without greeting her.
Her spine straightens immediately and I watch as her guard goes up. She’s not going to put up with my shit, and I love her for that.
“I was folding laundry,” she replies coolly, eyeing me with derision. “Then my he climbed through my window and started lying. I pressed the button like I promised I would. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”
Defiance flashes in her eyes, sharp and bright. Normally I’d admire it, but right now it feels like fuel on a fire I’m barely containing.
“That isn’t all that happened,” I remind her. “You were the one who opened the window.”
It’s almost an accusation, like I’m trying to catch her out. Like I think she’s going to lie to me.
“Yes, I did,” she answers. “And I pressed the alarm to alert your guards that he was there. Which you already know.”
My jaw tightens. She’s right. I do know. I watched the guards close in before he even finished speaking. That isn’t the point.
“You let him inside your home,” I press. “You wanted him there.”
Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t,” she protests. “But I’m starting to wonder if you did. Did you send me to my apartment just to lay a trap for him? Was that your plan?”
The calm logic in her voice makes something snap.
I snap at her. “You were safely sent to your apartment with men to protect you. You were never in any danger.”
“You could have told me!” she shrieks back. “I’m not a pawn in some game of yours. Or maybe I am. Maybe you’ve been lying to me this whole time, and you’re the monster Kostya says you are.”
“How dare you accuse me of that!” I nearly roar. “I would never hurt you. I’ve done nothing but protect you and keep you safe this whole time. I’ve put my own safety at risk for you. Don’t you ever accuse me of trying to hurt you.”
“Then don’t accuse me of doing something I didn’t do,” she shoots back coldly. “I didn’t want Kostya there, and I only let him in so I could tell him off. I hate him. Do you understand that? I absolutely loathe him. So you have no reason to treat me like I’m a traitor.”
“He put his hand on you,” I seethe.
“And I pulled away,” she says softly, though there’s still rage behind her eyes. “The idea of him touching me repulses me.”
My mind flashes back to the footage anyway. The way he stepped closer. The way he reached for her. The way he said her name. Rage surges fast and irrational and impossible to justify.
“That’s not the point,” I say.
“Then what is the point?” she shouts, throwing up her hands. “Because it seems to me like you’re acting like a jealous asshole, but you have nothing to be jealous of. You never have.”
“He’s dangerous,” I remind her. “He could have hurt you.”
She groans in frustration. “He wouldn’t have gotten the chance. Wasn’t that the whole point of the panic button? He was no danger to me. Just admit that you’re jealous.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s dangerous,” I say, ignoring her last words. “Not in this world.”
“And you don’t get to act like you own me,” she snaps. “If you want to be upset that I had a conversation with my ex, then fine, but I’m not letting you treat me like this.”
She turns on her heel and storms out without being dismissed. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but somehow I am. She’s never followed convention, and she certainly doesn’t give a damn about Bratva rules.
I hate that she’s right, though. I am jealous, even if I can barely admit it to myself. Kostya is a problem that I need to handle, and letting my feelings get in the way won’t help with that.
I stay in my office for a long time, trying to plan and pivot. I’m sure my men will find Kostya, and when the time is right, I’ll have him brought to me. I have to think of a suitable punishment, but right now all I can think of is Alina’s anger toward me.
Hours pass before I go back out. Alina is nowhere to be found, although I do see an empty plate sitting on the kitchen table. I pass by her room and hear nothing but silence. I should apologize. I even consider knocking on her door to do just that.
Then I remember her anger. I remember my anger. My jealousy threatens to spill over again, and I realize that I’m never going to be happy until I can be sure that she’s mine. That’s when the plan forms.