Chapter 18 Dimitri
DIMITRI
I'm in my car, three blocks from the warehouse.
The engine idles, and the audio feed cuts mid-sentence—someone's voice tells Katya this is "standard procedure".
Then static fills the air.
Then silence.
I stare at the phone.
My thumb hovers over the screen.
Every instinct screams at me to act.
I want to move, to do something, but I force myself to wait.
If she's talking herself out of this, I must let her work.
I know that barging in now could mean walking into an ambush. She’d hate me for ruining her play.
I pull up the tracking app.
The blinking dot that represents her pendant still moves.
It shifts slowly from the entrance of the warehouse toward the interior.
She's alive and still moving.
I lean back in the seat and watch the dot creep deeper into the building.
This is normal.
This is expected.
She goes in, they test her, she proves herself.
That's the plan.
The dot stops.
It’s in the southwest corner, likely a back room.
Five minutes pass, and the dot on the tracking app remains stationary.
Ten minutes later, there's still no movement.
I check the audio feed again, but it’s dead, completely severed.
My jaw grits as unease settles in.
This is taking far too long.
A simple test shouldn’t drag on like this.
They could be thorough, or perhaps they’re pushing her to prove herself.
Worse, they might have found the wire.
Twenty minutes pass and the dot hasn’t moved.
I dial Gavriil, but it rings several times.
"The wire’s dead," I say when he answers. "The tracker’s still alive. She’s stationary in the southwest corner of the building."
"How long has she been there?" he asks.
"Twenty minutes."
He’s quiet for a moment. "That’s not good."
"I know."
I run a hand over my jaw.
The stubble rasps against my palm. "Get to the command room. I need eyes on that warehouse. Pull satellite feeds, street cameras, anything we can access. I need to know what’s happening in there."
"You think they found the wire?" he says.
"I think something’s wrong."
I'm growling out commands at him like he's my enemy, but this is eating at me.
"Just get to the command room. I’ll meet you there."
I hang up and stare at the tracking app.
The dot blinks once, then twice. It mocks me with its stillness.
Twenty-five minutes have passed.
She never left that warehouse.
She’s still in there, in the same spot.
I have no idea if she’s alive or dead. I don’t know if she’s playing them or if they’re breaking her, but if I interrupt prematurely, I lose my leverage.
I start the car and drive toward the Vetrov estate.
My hands stay steady on the wheel, but my mind races.
She could be fine.
She could be handling this exactly as we planned or she could be bleeding out on a concrete floor.
The not knowing is worse than anything.
The drive takes eighteen minutes.
I walk into the command room.
Gavriil is already at the main table.
His laptop is open, and multiple screens show feeds from cameras around the city.
"What do we have?" I ask.
He pulls up a map of the warehouse district.
"We have limited coverage in that area. One street camera sits three blocks north. Nothing has a direct view of the building."
He types rapidly and pulls up a grainy overhead view.
The warehouse roof is visible, along with the surrounding lots.
Two vehicles are parked in the back.
"A black sedan and a white van. Both are registered to shell companies, likely Radich."
I lean over the table and study the image.
"Can you tell how many people are inside?"
"No. The satellite can’t penetrate the roof."
He switches to another feed.
"But the tracker shows she’s still there in the same location. She hasn’t moved in thirty-two minutes."
Thirty-two minutes have passed.
"Prep a reconnaissance mission," I say.
"I need someone to get close, check the perimeter, and report back on any movement. I need to know if she’s breathing."
Gavriil nods and pulls out his phone.
He makes two calls and speaks in clipped tones.
When he finishes, he says, "Two men are en route. They’ll be in position in fifteen minutes."
"Good."
I move to the window and stare out at the estate grounds.
"Tell them to stay quiet. They should observe only and not engage. I just need to know what’s happening in there."
"Understood."
The door opens behind me.
I turn to see Rolan enter.
His expression shows concern, and I'm not sure what to say to him.
As Pakhan, he could see this as a liability, but he moves to the table without a word and studies the screens.
He takes in the whole situation before he speaks.
"Gavriil filled me in," he says. "The girl’s wire's dead. She hasn’t moved in over thirty minutes."
"I’m working on it," I tell him, but I feel on edge.
I don’t like having to explain myself to my brother.
"I can see that."
He leans against the table and crosses his arms.
My brother is a hard man, just like our father.
But after seeing him with his wife, I know he understands what a woman means to a man.
"What do you need from me?"
The offer catches me off guard.
There’s no judgment, no lecture, just support.
"I need to know she’s alive," I say.
"I need to know this is just part of their test and not…" I can’t finish the sentence because my chest knots up.
Rolan nods.
"You’ve tied yourself to this girl more than you should have for an informant."
He's quieter, but not softer.
It's like he's assessing me to help me make the best decision.
"Yes."
There’s no point denying it.
He’s quiet for a moment and studies me.
"Then we make sure she comes back."
His face shifts and he says, "What’s your plan?"
"Reconnaissance first. I’ve got men moving into position. Once I know what we’re dealing with, I’ll decide the next steps."
I turn back to the screens.
"But I need information. I need to know if she’s working a play or if they’ve made her."
"Smart."
Rolan moves to stand beside me.
"If you need men, you’ll have them. If you need weapons or extraction routes—whatever it takes—I’m with you on this."
His words settle something in my chest.
It’s not relief, but I know I’m not alone in this.
"Thank you."
"She must be important to you," he says.
"You’re risking a lot for her."
"She is."
When I say the words, my throat constricts.
It's the first time I'm admitting it aloud to anyone else.
"I can’t let her go, Rolan. I thought I could. I thought when this was over, I’d send her on her way, and that would be it. But I can’t."
"Why not?"
I’m silent for a long moment and stare at the blinking dot on the screen.
"The hollow spot she’d leave in my chest if she were gone would destroy me. It’s not about the operation anymore. It’s not about what she knows or what she can do for me. It’s about her."
Rolan processes this and nods.
"Then we make sure she survives. But Dimitri, you need to understand something. If she knows you love her, she becomes leverage for the Radiches, for anyone who wants to hurt you."
"I know."
I check the tracker again.
Forty-seven minutes have passed, and she’s still stationary.
"But I can’t change how I feel. I can only control what I do about it."
"Fair enough."
Rolan moves to the screens and examines the satellite feed.
"For what it’s worth, I hope she makes it out. Anyone who can earn your loyalty deserves mine."
My phone buzzes with a text from one of Gavriil’s men.
They’re in position and there’s no movement outside.
The building appears empty.
There are two vehicles in the back lot.
And the men are waiting for further instructions.
I show the message to Gavriil.
"Tell them to hold. They should keep watching and report any movement immediately."
He types a response and looks up at me.
"How long do we wait?"
"As long as it takes."
I sit down at the table.
My eyes stay on the screens.
The waiting is unbearable.
Every second that passes without movement makes my chest constrict further.
She never left that warehouse.
She’s still in there, and I have no idea what’s happening to her.
Rolan takes the chair across from me.
"Tell me about her," he says. "Who is she?"
I look at him, surprised by the request, but I answer.
"She’s a thief and a con artist. She grew up with nothing and learned to survive on her own. She’s smart, resourceful, and defiant. When I caught her trying to steal one of our horses, she spat in my face instead of begging for her life."
Rolan raises an eyebrow.
"And that impressed you?"
"It did."
I lean back in the chair.
"She doesn’t break easily. When I gave her this assignment, I expected her to run at the first opportunity, but she didn’t. She stayed, did the work, and proved herself."
"You love her," Rolan says.
It’s not a question but a statement.
I don’t deny it, but my head hangs as I acknowledge it myself.
"Yes. The thought of losing her would destroy me."
Rolan nods with understanding.
He grips my shoulder and squeezes it.
"Then we make sure you don’t lose her."
My phone rings.
It’s Gavriil’s man.
"Report," I answer.
"There’s still no movement outside, but we heard something a few minutes ago. Voices shouted inside, then it went quiet."
My blood runs cold.
"How long ago?"
"Five minutes. There’s been nothing since then."
"Stay in position. Keep me updated on anything you hear or see."
I hang up and look at Gavriil.
"They’re still inside. Something happened."
"Should we move in?" he asks.
"Not yet."
I force myself to stay calm.
"If she’s working a play, I don’t want to ruin it by going in too soon. But if they’ve hurt her—" I stop. My jaw clenches. "We wait, watch, and gather information."
Fifty-four minutes have passed and the dot is still stationary.
I pace the room while Rolan watches me with understanding.
He doesn’t tell me to sit or calm down. He just lets me move.
"What will you do when this is over?" he asks.
"I don’t know."
I stop pacing and meet his gaze.
"I promised her freedom when the job was done, but I don’t know if I can keep that promise anymore."
"Then be honest with her," Rolan says.
"Don’t trap her or manipulate her. If you love her, tell her. Give her the choice."
"And if she chooses to leave?"
"Then you let her go."
His voice is gentle.
"But something tells me she won’t."
I want to believe him, but right now, all I can think about is that she’s still in that warehouse.
She never left, and something is wrong.
My phone buzzes again and I see another text from the reconnaissance team.
They heard a door slam.
Male voices moved away from the building.
Engines started, and two vehicles left the lot.
I show it to Gavriil.
"They’re leaving."
"Should we move in now?" he asks.
I check the tracker.
The dot is still there, still stationary.
"She’s still inside, but if the Radiches are leaving…"
I run a hand through my hair.
"Maybe they left her there. Maybe she’s—"
I can’t finish the thought.
Rolan stands.
"Send the reconnaissance team in carefully. Have them check if she’s there."
I nod to Gavriil, who immediately types instructions to his men.
We wait.
Five minutes pass, then ten.
These are the longest minutes of my life.
My phone rings.
It’s the reconnaissance team.
"We moved in and had to pull back, Boss. There are guards everywhere. We'll blow it…"
I cuss under my breath and scowl.
"Pull back. We can't burn her. They'll kill her on the spot."
Damn my cursed heart for caring about her, and damn me for allowing her to go alone.
I knew better, but she insisted.
My God, I can't stand this.
Rolan grips my shoulder.
"We’ll find her."
I stare at the blinking dot on the screen.
All I can do now is pray that when we find her, she’s still breathing.
I hope this was all part of her play, that she’s okay and I’m panicking over nothing.
But deep down, I know better.
Something went wrong in that warehouse.
Now all I can do is wait and hope I haven’t already lost her.