Chapter 21 – Dimitri
I wake to another series of knocks at the door, groaning before I even untangle myself from Vivian. Every time I’m woken like this, it never ends with good news.
I press a quick kiss to her forehead, murmuring, “I’ll be right back,” and head for the door. Sylvester stands there, looking like he’s already aged a decade.
“What is it?” I demand.
“Can we talk in your study?” he says, urgency lacing his tone.
I narrow my eyes. “Fine.”
We march into my study together, the tension in the air thick enough to taste.
Sylvester wastes no time. “One of our outer compounds was hit again.”
I grit my teeth. “Damn. The Kovals. We have to respond. They will—”
He interrupts me, voice low and urgent. “This time, not by the Kovals. Someone from inside our own network. The mole has been feeding intel for weeks.”
My chest tightens. “I don’t have a mole in my house. That rules out your investigations. There’s no rat around here.”
Suspicion claws at me. Deveraux? The thought flashes.
“It’s Deveraux,” I growl. “That bastard is acting out, and we haven’t even hit him yet.”
Sylvester’s next words stop me cold. “It’s not him. It’s worse,” he says. “The mole isn’t one of your men.”
I freeze. My mind races. “Then who?”
Sylvester’s eyes lock on mine. “Vivian’s bodyguard. Kyle.”
The words hit me like a bullet. Kyle—the man assigned by Vivian’s mother, supposedly for safety—has been feeding them information all along.
I go rigid. “How do you know it’s him?”
Sylvester takes a deep breath, and for the first time I see a trace of hesitation on his face.
Then he lays out every step he took—the subtle manipulations in access logs, the pattern of movements coinciding with attacks, the encrypted messages traced back to Kyle’s assigned devices.
Each piece of evidence lands like a hammer.
I feel the blood drain from my face. Vivian trusted him. I trusted him. And he’s been betraying her…betraying us.
I pace the study, fists clenched. “He’s been inside my home, inside her life…watching her, reporting to them.” My voice drops. “He won’t live to see another sunrise.”
Sylvester raises a hand. “Not yet. We need him alive. Let him lead us to whoever’s orchestrating this. He’s the key.”
I stop pacing, eyes narrowing. “Fine. But the moment we get what we need, he dies. No mercy. Do you understand me?”
Sylvester nods. “Crystal.”
I don’t wait another second.
I storm out of the study, each step echoing like a warning through the halls. My blood is boiling, but my mind is ice—focused, lethal.
I push open the door to my suite, and relief punches through me when I see Vivian awake, curled against the pillows. I hadn’t wanted to wake her—not after last night, not after everything.
Her brows knit the second she sees my face. “Are you okay?”
I don’t waste time. “How long has Kyle been with you?”
She blinks, thrown off. “Kyle? Um…a while. Since last year. Why?” Her eyes sharpen. “Dimitri, what’s going on?”
I exhale, steady but furious. “He’s the mole, Vivian. He’s the one who’s been feeding intel out of this house.”
She goes still.
For a moment, she looks like someone drained all the color from her world. “Kyle?” she whispers. “No. That’s—he’s ex-military. My mother hired him. He barely talks. He—he—what? Are you sure?”
“He’s been sending details about our operations, our locations, our movements.”
My voice is harsh, but not at her. Never at her.
“He’s the reason we’ve been compromised so much lately.”
She shakes her head slowly, disbelief breaking across her features. “I…I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.”
The words come out immediately, instinctively.
And I mean them.
I step closer, touch her cheek. “Vivian, look at me. None of this is on you.”
Her breath shudders out.
I kiss her forehead—claiming, reassuring, anchoring. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”
There’s no argument in her eyes, only fear…and trust. Real, unflinching trust.
That alone could kill a man.
I turn and leave before I can think too much about it.
The fury returns the moment I’m in the hallway. My strides lengthen. My jaw clenches.
Kyle didn’t just betray me; he betrayed her.
Lived under my roof. Ate at my table. Walked behind Vivian pretending to protect her.
I reach his door and don’t bother knocking.
Because this ends now.
I kick the door open, and Kyle scrambles upright in his bed, eyes wide, a mixture of confusion and irritation twisting his face.
“What the hell—?!” he starts, voice sharp. “What are you doing in my room?!”
“Shut up!” I bark at him.
“This is an invasion of my privacy!” he says crossly.
I step inside, pushing the door wide open, and let a laugh escape. “Ironically,” I say, voice carrying like steel, “you lecture me about invasion of privacy…when you’ve been invading ours for weeks.”
Kyle freezes for a heartbeat, then groans, running a hand through his hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I step closer, and the room feels smaller, tighter, charged. “The jig is up, Kyle. You don’t have to lie. I already know everything. The accounts. The messages. The attacks. The leaks. You’ve been feeding intel. All of it.”
His eyes flicker—panic, disbelief, calculation. Then something snaps. He lunges at me, wild-eyed, trying to catch me off guard.
I pivot instinctively, catching his arm mid-swing. The motion is controlled, precise. My hand tightens around his wrist, and I throw him against the wall like a rag doll.
“Don’t.” My voice is low, a growl that rattles his spine. “One more move like that, and I will break you.”
Kyle swallows hard, eyes darting around, calculating. “I…I—You don’t understand. I was just—I don’t—we—”
“Spare me the excuses,” I cut him off, stepping so close he can feel the heat from my body. “You betrayed my family. You betrayed Vivian. And if anyone, anyone, had touched her, I would’ve torn you apart with my bare hands.”
His face pales. His chest heaves. He doesn’t move. He knows I mean it.
I step back, letting him slump against the wall, but my eyes never leave his. “You’re going to tell me everything. Every detail. Every lie you’ve told. And you’re going to do it now.”
Kyle collapses to his knees, palms flat on the floor, breath coming in shaky bursts.
“I swear—I swear I don’t know anything,” he blurts out. “I don’t. They only communicate with me through anonymous links and send my payment the same way.”
My jaw flexes. “Is it her mother?” I ask, voice low and lethal. “Did she put you up to this? Did she send you here to dig into my house and spy on us?”
“I don’t know!” Kyle’s voice cracks with desperation. “Her mother only insisted I follow Vivian here to keep her safe. That’s all she said. I swear! I swear that’s all I was told.”
I stare at him, searching for the lie.
Kyle keeps talking, words tumbling over each other in fear.
“But the messages…the intel requests…they could come from her. I don’t know. I’m not sure. All I know is—” He swallows hard, shame or fear—or both—burning on his face. “They paid thousands of dollars for every detail I sent. And I—I needed the money.”
I take a slow breath, the temperature in the room dropping with it.
“So you sold us,” I say softly. “Sold her.”
Kyle squeezes his eyes shut. “I didn’t know they’d attack. I didn’t know they’d try to kill anyone. I thought—they just wanted information. I swear, I swear—”
I crouch in front of him, lifting his chin with two fingers until he’s forced to meet my gaze.
“You didn’t need to know their plans,” I murmur. “You just needed to betray her. And you did.”
His breath stutters. “Dimitri—please—”
“No.” I rise to full height, staring down at him like the insect he is. “You’re done begging.”
His face goes pale.
I turn slightly toward Sylvester, ready to tell him to take control of the situation—but a flash of movement slices through the edge of my vision.
Steel.
A knife.
And Kyle’s eyes—wide, wild, desperate—locked on my throat.
I pivot with only a split second to spare. My hand snaps out, catching his wrist mid-swing. The force of his attack drives him forward, off balance.
I rip the knife from his grip and, in the same breath, plunge it straight into his chest. The sound he makes isn’t a scream. It’s a wet gasp—shocked, choked, pathetic. His eyes widen.
His hands claw weakly at my shirt as if he’s trying to hold on to life—or maybe to take me with him.
Behind me, someone screams.
Vivian.
Her voice is sharp and ragged, tearing through the hallway like glass.
I let Kyle’s body drop to the floor with a dull, final thud and turn toward her.
She’s standing frozen in the doorway, breathing hard, her eyes wide with fear and horror. Her chest rises and falls too fast, like she can’t get enough air.
For a moment, we just stare at each other.
“Are you scared of me?” I ask, my voice low, rough.
“What? No.”
She shakes her head hard, a tear slipping free. “I screamed because—because it hit me how close I came to being used again. Manipulated. Watched. Played.”
Her voice breaks.
And something inside me snaps.
I step toward her, wrap my arms around her, and pull her into my chest. She comes willingly, collapsing against me, her tears soaking into my shirt.
I hold her tight, breathing her in like I need her to stay alive.
“You were never safe anywhere but here,” I murmur into her hair, my voice shaking with the adrenaline still clawing through me. “Not with him. Not with anyone. Only here.”
She trembles, fists curling in my shirt as she breaks down fully, crying into the place just beneath my throat—crying from fear, from relief, from everything.
I tighten my hold, one hand sliding up her back, steady, grounding. She surrenders completely, melting into me.
After a moment, she looks up at me. Her eyes are glassy but fierce.
“What do you feel about my mother?” she whispers. “Do you think she’s guilty?”
I exhale—long, heavy. Not this. Not now.
I don’t have the answers yet, and I don’t want to be the one to shatter her.
“Vivian,” I say quietly, brushing a tear from her cheek, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep.”
She pulls back from my arms, just enough to look me fully in the eye.
“No,” she says, voice firm despite the shake. “Dimitri, I feel it—I know my mother is innocent. Someone is framing her because she’s convenient. Because she’s an easy link.”
I rub a hand over my face. “And what if you feel that way because she’s your mother?”
Her breath catches.
It’s the wrong thing to say—too sharp, too honest, too soon.
She steps back fully now, hurt flashing across her expression.
“I thought you trusted me,” she says quietly. Not accusing. Not angry. Just…wounded.
I step closer, cupping her face gently—not forcing, just holding. “I do trust you. You understand that, right? That’s why I’m not storming over there to confront your family. That’s why I’m not tearing the world apart tonight, looking for someone to blame.”
Her breath softens.
“You come first,” I say. “Always. Do you trust me too?”
“Yes.” Her voice is small, but steady.
“Then let me handle this. I swear to you, Vivian—I’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll find the truth. I promise.”
She nods. “Okay.”
I slide an arm under her knees and lift her without effort. She gasps—surprised, but she loops her arms around my neck on instinct. I can feel her relaxing against me, exhaustion settling back in.
“Now,” I murmur, carrying her toward the bedroom, “you have to go back to sleep. You’re never up this early.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “Are you going to lie with me?”
God, I want to.
The thought of holding her again is a gravity I can barely resist.
“I wish,” I admit, brushing my lips against her temple. “But I have to update my brothers. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
She sighs, curling into me like she belongs there. I carry her into the room, feeling the weight of everything pressing against my shoulders, and lay her down on the bed. My mouth finds hers. The kiss is slow, deep, almost reverent. When I finally pull back, my breath catches between us.
Her eyes meet mine.
And in that frozen second, I feel it hit me—quiet but brutal.
I’m in too deep.
In this war.
In her.
In a love I never intended to survive.