Chapter 15 – Ellie
I suspected a trap the moment the message appeared on my encrypted phone. The number was unknown. The text was short.
We need to talk. I’m the one behind all of this. I just need to speak to you, and I’ll spare your husband.
Every instinct told me to ignore it.
But Mike had just walked into another dangerous plan. Another ambush meant for him. Another risk he was willing to take because of me.
Fear clouded my judgment, so I replied.
The woman’s instructions came quickly.
Step outside the estate. A car will be waiting.
Even then, I knew it was reckless.
But worry for Mike twisted my thoughts into something frantic and irrational. If I could end this—if I could remove the threat hanging over him—then maybe everything would finally stop.
It took time to slip out unnoticed.
The guards may be well-trained, but the estate is large. By then, I knew the routines, knew which corridors stayed empty at certain hours.
Mike wasn’t home.
That made it easier.
Still, my heart pounded the entire time. I moved quietly through the house and toward the back entrance. When I finally stepped outside the gates, the car was already waiting.
Black.
Engine running.
The back door opened the moment I approached.
I climbed inside.
The bag went over my head instantly.
My breath caught as rough hands shoved me back against the seat.
“Hey—!”
But the car was already moving.
Now, as the vehicle slows to a stop, my stomach twists with cold realization.
You idiot.
I should have thought this through.
I should have told Mike.
I should have realized that walking into a meeting with an unknown enemy isn’t bravery—it’s stupidity.
The car door opens.
Hands grab my arms and yank me out.
“Move.”
A shove sends me stumbling forward. I can’t see anything through the bag covering my head, and the disorientation makes my steps clumsy.
Gravel crunches beneath my shoes.
They walk me forward for several seconds before we stop.
Then someone pushes me down hard into a chair.
Cold metal presses against the backs of my thighs.
Rough hands grab my wrists.
“Hold her still.”
Rope brushes against my skin.
Panic flares.
I react instantly.
I jerk one arm free and swing wildly, my elbow slamming into someone’s ribs.
“Shit!”
Another hand grabs my shoulder.
I kick forward, connecting with a shin.
A man curses loudly.
“Stop!” I snap, twisting violently in the chair. “Get your hands off me!”
They try again to grab my wrists, but I thrash harder, adrenaline surging through my veins.
The bag over my head makes it harder to breathe.
My chest rises and falls rapidly as I fight like an animal.
Someone behind me grabs my hair to hold me still.
“Enough.”
The voice cuts through the chaos like a blade.
A woman’s voice.
Cold.
Elegant.
Commanding.
The men freeze instantly.
“Let her fight,” the woman says calmly.
Footsteps approach.
Slow.
Unhurried.
I feel her presence stop directly in front of me.
Then the bag is pulled off my head.
Light floods my vision.
I blink rapidly, my eyes adjusting.
And when I finally look up—
My stomach drops.
Because the woman standing in front of me is smiling.
She’s tall. Striking in a cold, unsettling way. Pale skin, hair slicked straight back from her face, not a single strand out of place. She’s dressed entirely in black from head to toe, the fabric sharp and tailored like armor.
The only color on her is her lipstick.
Bright red.
It makes her smile look even more dangerous.
“Sit,” she says calmly.
I realize I’ve half risen from the chair during the struggle. For a moment, I consider fighting again, but something in the room tells me it would be pointless.
So I sit.
This time, without a fuss.
My wrists are still restrained, but the men have stepped back now, standing along the edges of the room like statues.
I lift my chin slightly. “What does all this mean?”
She tilts her head, studying me as if I’m something fascinating under a microscope.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Then she smiles wider.
“I’m the architect behind your kidnapping attempts,” she says smoothly. “And Sergei’s silent partner.”
The words land like a stone in my chest.
She continues, completely unbothered, “You’ve been the leverage from the beginning, Ellie. Not merely against Mike…but against the entire Rusnak network.”
My brows pull together. “What does that mean?”
She walks slowly around me as she speaks, her heels clicking softly on the concrete floor.
“I can’t tell you very much yet,” she says lightly. “Not until I’m sure you’re all in.”
I let out a short, humorless breath. “I don’t trust anyone who tries to hurt my husband.”
She laughs.
Not offended.
Almost amused.
“Oh, I don’t need Mike,” she says casually.
She stops in front of me again, her sharp eyes locking onto mine.
“I only need you.”
A chill runs down my spine.
I swallow slowly. “What do you mean?”
She studies me for a moment, like she’s deciding how much to reveal.
Then she says, almost casually, “You’ll have to fly out with me.”
I blink. “What?”
“I can’t explain the plan here,” she continues smoothly. “It’s something I have to show you. Once you see it, you’ll understand everything.”
I let out a slow breath of disbelief.
“You must be joking,” I say flatly. “If you think I’m flying anywhere with you.”
Her expression doesn’t change.
In fact, she looks almost like she’s about to burst into a laugh.
“You don’t really have a choice,” she replies. “Now that I have you…I can’t exactly let you go.”
Anger flares hot in my chest.
“I’ll fight you,” I say, my voice sharp. “With everything I have. And I will never—never—work with you.”
For a moment, she just looks at me.
Then she sighs softly and shakes her head.
“That’s a pity.”
Her tone is strangely sincere.
“I really like you, Ellie. I admire your work. I think you’re brilliant.” She pauses, her red lips curling into a small smile. “You would be a wonderful addition to my team.”
I open my mouth to respond and ask what team, but she lifts a hand slightly, stopping me before I can speak.
“Don’t answer yet,” she says calmly.
She turns and begins walking toward the door.
“I’ll leave you alone for a while,” she adds over her shoulder. “Think about it.”
She reaches the doorway and pauses briefly.
“I’ll come back in a few minutes to hear what you have to say.”
Then she walks out of the room.
The door shuts behind her with a heavy thud.
I’m left sitting in the chair, my wrists still bound, surrounded by the silent, terrifying guards who watch me without blinking.
I refuse to show fear.
Instead, I force myself to breathe slowly and look around.
The room is part of a warehouse—high ceilings, steel beams, and concrete floors stained with oil and dust. The air smells faintly of rust and gasoline.
My eyes move carefully, studying everything without making it obvious.
One door.
No windows.
Four guards inside the room.
Two near the walls. One by the door. One leaning against a crate near the back.
I listen.
Footsteps pass occasionally in the hallway outside. Different rhythms. Different weights.
I start counting them.
One heavy step—probably the same guard pacing the corridor.
Another lighter set every few minutes.
Guard rotation.
My gaze drifts to the ceiling.
Old ventilation ducts.
Too small to crawl through.
Still…useful to remember.
I catalog everything—the distance to the door, the position of the men, the tension in the ropes around my wrists.
I will not be a helpless pawn.
Minutes crawl by.
Then—
Gunfire erupts outside.
Sharp.
Precise.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
Ruthless.
Every guard in the room stiffens.
Another burst echoes through the warehouse.
Shouting erupts in the distance.
Running footsteps.
Someone screams.
My heart jumps violently in my chest.
And I know Mike is here for me. I just know it’s him.
He found me.
Another explosion shakes the walls, dust drifting from the ceiling as the warehouse rattles. The guards exchange quick looks, tension rising instantly.
More shouting echoes through the corridors.
More gunshots.
Closer now.
Something fierce blooms inside my chest.
Not fear.
Something stronger.
Mike is coming.
Not because I’m leverage.
Not because I’m something to possess.
But because we’re fighting the same war.
The door to the room suddenly explodes inward.
Wood splinters. Smoke floods the doorway.
The guards barely have time to react before gunfire cuts through the air.
Two of them drop instantly.
The others scramble for weapons—
But it’s already over.
Then he steps through the smoke.
Mike.
Blood stains his shirt, dark against the fabric. His chest rises and falls hard, his gun still raised.
His eyes find mine immediately.
And in them—beyond the fury, beyond the violence—
Is relief.
For a split second, the entire room goes quiet between us.
Like the world pauses.
Then my gaze shifts past him.
Through the drifting haze of smoke.
And my stomach drops.
She’s there.
The woman from earlier stands several feet behind Mike, half hidden by the smoke and the broken doorway. Her expression is calm, almost bored.
But the gun in her hand is raised.
Pointed directly at Mike’s back.
My heart slams violently against my ribs.
He doesn’t see her.
He’s focused on me.
Focused on getting to me.
“Ellie—” he starts, already moving forward.
“No!” I shout.
The ropes around my wrists are still tight, so I don’t bother breaking free. I launch myself out of the chair and run. My legs move before I even think.
Straight toward him.
Mike’s eyes widen slightly as I rush forward.
It’s my turn to save him, and in that moment, I realize I’ll put myself in harm’s way if it means keeping him safe.