Chapter 10
Zoya
Ilean my ear against the cold wood of the door, listening to the boots thudding against the floorboards outside.
The guards aren’t standing still anymore.
They’re moving fast, their voices hushed but frantic.
I try to steady my breathing, pressing closer to the grain of the door to hear if they mention Alexei or a location, but I only catch muffled sounds from the hallway.
The wood vibrates against my forehead as a knock comes, sharp and loud.
“Miss Petrov.” One of Dato’s men. “Mr. Janelidze requests your presence downstairs. You have thirty minutes to get dressed.”
My heart pounds against my ribs as I step back, wondering if this is another sick joke or the end.
I don’t answer. I go to the closet, shove a red dress aside, and pull out black trousers and a dark green blouse. My fingers tremble, fumbling with the small buttons, but I force them through the holes.
I’m fixing my hair when the door opens without warning.
Dato leans against the frame, arms crossed, that ever-present smile curving his lips. “You look lovely.” His eyes travel down my body slowly. “Although I would have preferred the red dress. It would have matched your temper.”
“What do you want?”
“Straight to business. I appreciate that about you, Zoya.” He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “We’re going on a little trip tonight. You and me. To meet an old friend of yours.”
My stomach drops. “Alexei.”
“In the flesh.” Dato’s smile widens. “It seems the beast has finally noticed his pet is missing. He called last night, making cold threats, barely holding his rage together. I found it entertaining.” He moves closer. I hold my ground.
“Listen carefully.” The amusement drains from his voice. “You’ll accompany me. Stay silent. Appear pleasant. Only speak when addressed. And don’t try anything clever.”
“Like what?”
“Running straight to his arms.” His fingers catch my chin hard, locking my gaze to his. “Calling out. Trying anything clever.” He squeezes. “I’ve treated you well. Better than you deserve. Humiliate me tonight in front of Romanov, and that treatment changes.”
I say nothing.
“Do we understand each other?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” He releases my chin and steps back, the smile sliding into place again. “Be downstairs in ten minutes. Don’t make me wait.”
After he leaves, I stand in the center of the room, heart pounding, and try to remember how to breathe.
Alexei. I’m going to see Alexei.
Every step down the stairs pulls me closer to the point of no return.
In the quiet foyer, it’s just the guards and Stanislav waiting by the front door.
He turns when he hears me, carrying the exact same exhaustion in his eyes that I feel in my bones.
“Miss Petrov.” He gives me a polite nod, then drops his voice lower. “Are you alright?”
The question almost makes me laugh. “Define alright.”
The corner of his lips moves upward briefly. “Fair point.”
We stand in awkward silence for a moment. I can hear Dato’s voice coming from somewhere deeper in the house, barking orders at his men.
“I apologize.” Sudden and unprompted, the admission breaks the heavy quiet between us.
“For this entire situation, for what Dato’s put you through, for all of it.
” A weary hand sweeps through the air to encompass the perimeter guards and the suffocating opulence of the house, acknowledging the reality of our circumstances in one grim motion.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I could have done something. Could have…” He trails off, frustration flickering across his face. “I don’t know. Something.”
“Like what? Helped me escape?” I shake my head. “You’d be dead. Or worse.”
“Maybe.” He looks at me with those earnest eyes. “But at least I’d have tried.”
I don’t know what to say to that. This boy, this young man in a house full of wolves, actually feels guilty for not saving me. Like he could have made any difference at all.
“Stop.” The words come out quiet, aware of listening ears around us. “Don’t blame yourself for things beyond your power. And make sure Dato doesn’t see how you’re looking at me.”
“What way?”
“The way that shows you give a damn.”
He draws back at the accuracy, understanding what I’ve just pointed out. His brother appears before Stanislav can answer, surrounded by four guards moving in formation.
“Ah, there you are.” He glances between Stanislav and me, eyes narrowing slightly. “Making friends, little brother?”
“Making conversation, that’s all.”
“Sure.” Dato holds his gaze on Stanislav briefly before smiling and clapping once for attention. “Time to go. The beast won’t negotiate with himself.”
The car ride is silent. I sit in the back with Dato.
His men occupy the front seats. Another car follows behind us, full of more guards.
Dato isn’t taking any chances. I watch Moscow slide past the tinted windows.
Familiar streets made unfamiliar by circumstance.
I’ve walked these blocks a hundred times, camera in hand, chasing stories that seemed so important back then.
Now I’d give anything to be that woman again. The one who complained about being underpaid and kidnapped on Tuesdays. The one who genuinely believed a broken camera was a serious problem.
I was so naive.
We pull up to an unfamiliar structure, with a weathered brick exterior and covered openings, some deteriorated signage possibly related to fabric production in another era.
“We’re here.” Dato straightens his jacket and shifts to face me directly. “Remember what I told you earlier. Stay quiet, cooperate. Don’t try anything clever.”
I nod.
“Good.”
He gets out first. One of his men opens my door and gestures for me to follow. The night air hits my face, cold and unpleasant. I breathe it in. After five days in that mansion, even the polluted Moscow air tastes like freedom.
Our group approaches the building’s entrance while his guards create a perimeter, fingers positioned near their holsters, the atmosphere thick with nerves since nobody treats this like standard business.
The door opens onto what looks like an old factory floor converted into some kind of meeting space. Concrete floors, exposed beams, and a single table in the center under harsh overhead lighting.
And there, at the table, sits Alexei.
My breath stops.
His hands are folded on the table in front of him. Behind him stand his guards and two other men I recognize from previous encounters. Our eyes meet, and my chest constricts with conflicting sensations: comfort, dread, desire, and rage all layered on top of each other until they’re inseparable.
My body moves without permission, closing the distance between us until a sudden, violent eruption at my feet stops me short.
Debris sprays across my skin as the sound of the blast echoes, leaving me standing rigid, unable to draw a single breath into my tightened chest. I barely have time to register the fear before Dato hooks a hand around my arm and yanks me into him, his fingers digging into my skin with a bruising, desperate force.
“Oops.” Dato’s voice comes out amused. “Told you not to do anything stupid.”
The next gunshot comes from Alexei’s direction, so fast I barely see him draw. Dato staggers, clutching his shoulder where red spreads rapidly through the fabric of his jacket, his hand releasing me.
“That was a warning.” Alexei’s voice carries no emotion at all. “Put your hands on my wife one more time, and the next round goes straight through your fucking throat. I don’t miss, Dato. Ever.”
Despite the bullet wound, Dato manages to smile, blood seeping between his fingers.
“Jesus. She must have magical pussy or something for you to lose your shit over a hand grab.” He lets the silence stretch, enjoying it.
“Wonder how you’d react if you found out…
” The words cut off, leaving everything unsaid.
An eyebrow goes up on Alexei’s face, the only movement he makes before his eyes cut to me, holding there with an unreadable quality that turns my blood cold.
“Christ, fine,” Dato says, pain edging his voice despite his attempt at control. “Can we negotiate now?”
Several men converge on Dato at once, supporting his weight as they get him seated, one already retrieving gauze and antiseptic to address the shoulder where the bullet entered.
“This time I won’t push you.” Dato manages through the pain, gesturing vaguely toward an empty chair. “Go ahead and sit, Zoya.”
“Before we start anything resembling a peaceful negotiation,” Alexei says, his gaze shifting to me, “I need to know something.” His voice softens just slightly. “Zoya. Are you hurt? Tell me. Even psychologically.”
“She’s fine,” Dato interjects. “I already told you…”
“I wasn’t asking you.” The words cut through the air like a blade. Dato’s smile falters.
I meet Alexei’s gaze directly, seeing him clearly for the first time since entering. Those brown eyes carry warmth now when they’re on me, fire hidden below. “I’m not hurt,” I say, my voice coming out steady. “He didn’t touch me. Not like that.”
“But he touched you.”
My mind goes to his hands tangling through my hair, gripping my face, his voice too close to my ear, how every contact made revulsion spread through me.
“He didn’t touch me,” I repeat.
Alexei holds my gaze for another moment, then nods. He turns back to Dato. “Alright. We can proceed.” He leans back in his chair. “State your terms.”
Dato settles into his seat, regaining some of his composure. “I want access to your Polish port corridor for one week unsupervised.”
“No. Not possible.”
“Why not? It’s only for a week.”
“Pick something else.”
“There is nothing else I want.” Dato leans forward. “That corridor is the only leverage I care about. One week of access would let me establish connections that would take months to build otherwise.”
“This is neutral ground, Romanov,” Dato continues when Alexei doesn’t respond. “And you know one thing about neutral ground? One day, somebody is going to take it.”
Alexei’s expression doesn’t change. “Don’t overstep regarding my power, Dato.
I lack kindness. I lack forgiveness. Revenge though?
I excel at that. Consider it recreational.
” He waits. “Your family assassinated the last Pakhan. Fortunately, your uncle’s already gone.
Erasing entire bloodlines doesn’t bother me. Don’t discover my patience threshold.”
Nobody speaks after that, the threat palpable.
“Let me explain something to you, Dato,” Alexei continues, his voice dropping lower.
“Something your father understood but clearly failed to teach you. Killing you would be inconvenient. Not impossible. Inconvenient.” He stands, and somehow, he seems like the most dangerous thing in the room.
“A war with the Georgians would disrupt my operations, cost me money, and require attention I’d rather spend elsewhere. But inconvenience has limits.”
“Threats,” Dato says, though his voice isn’t as bold as before. “All I’m hearing is threats.”
“Then let me be specific.” Alexei walks around the table.
“Your brother. Stanislav. The soft one. The one with a conscience.” He stops beside Dato’s chair.
“I’ll start with him. I sure as hell will enjoy making you watch.
” His smile is predatory. “I bet he’s a pain junkie.
Or wait. Maybe he can’t handle pain. Is that why you don’t involve him in the business? ”
Dato’s fingers clench the chair arms, shaking visibly.
“Look, we just want the port corridor,” Dato says, his voice tight. “Just one week. That’s all I’m asking.”
“No, you get five days,” Alexei replies. “Supervised access. My men monitor everything that moves in and out. And you pay for any product that gets delayed because of your presence.”
“That’s barely enough time to revive our organization.”
“That’s my offer. Take it or fucking leave it.” Alexei walks back to his side of the table. “Either way, I’m walking away with her. And then we’ll see how long your operation survives without the mercy I’m showing you right now. I’m being generous.”
Silence stretches between them.
“Five days,” Dato says finally. “Supervised.”
“Good.” Alexei doesn’t smile. “Viktor, get the car.” He doesn’t offer his hand to shake to seal the deal with Dato. He simply turns to me. “Zoya. We’re leaving.”
I push myself up, my knees shaking so hard I’m afraid I’ll collapse right in front of them.
Dato stays pinned to his seat, making no move to stop me.
Every step toward the door feels like a mile.
Alexei follows a few paces behind, giving me space but never letting me out of his sight.
Even without him touching me, I sense him there—and that somehow comforts me.
We step outside into the cold night air.
I make it five steps before my legs give out.
Alexei catches me before I hit the ground.
His arms wrap around me. He pulls off his coat and drapes it around my shoulders, the fabric still warm from his body.
“I’ve got you,” he says quietly. “I’ve got you, Vedma.”
He guides me away from the warehouse, out of sight of everyone inside.
That’s when I fall apart. I start crying.
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” The words tear out of me between gasps.
“Why did you let me stay there with that man for so long?” My hands slam into his chest over and over. He takes each blow, letting me vent.
“I’m sorry.” His voice cracks. “Please forgive me. Hit me more if you need to. Scream at me. Put a bullet in me. I deserve it. I should’ve found you faster. This is on me.”
“Yes!” I hit him again. “It’s all your fault!” Snot runs from my nose down my face along with the tears, impossible to control. Five days of fear and isolation and doubt about rescue, about being worth saving, all erupting in this graceless, brutal release.
Alexei pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. “Blow,” he says gently.
I blow my nose into the fabric, the sound embarrassingly loud.
He wipes my nose clean, then carefully wipes the tears from my cheeks.
His touch is so gentle that it makes me cry harder.
He kisses my nose. Then my closed eyes, one after the other.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again. “I’m so sorry, Vedma.
I should have known sooner. I should have been watching closer.
This will never happen again. I swear to you, this will never happen again. ”
My breathing gradually evens out. The sobs quieten to hiccups. I sag against him, completely drained.
“Let’s go to my place,” he says softly. “From now on, you’re going to stay there. We’ll get this all sorted out.”
I can’t answer him. My eyes close as exhaustion takes over. He lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing and carries me to the waiting car.
The last thing I remember is the sound of his heartbeat against my ear as the city lights blur past the window.