34. Chapter 34
Addy
Elena had done exactly what she said she would and introduced me to her close-knit group of girls, most of whom were her sisters, cousins and other extended family. They had also accepted me into their fold and it felt like I was a long-lost cousin who had finally returned to the family.
We even had a weekly gathering at one of the local restaurants or cafés. It felt as though we had known each other for years rather than just a few weeks. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed that until it happened.
My guards would usually drop me off and then park down the street. The only way to stop them from hovering awkwardly nearby was to send them status updates via text every fifteen minutes.
It was slightly annoying, but better than having to explain their presence to my friends.
By the time I pushed open the glass doors of the marina café, the familiar sounds of laughter and conversation drifting out onto the terrace loosened something in my chest in a way I still wasn’t quite used to.
“You’re late!” Elena announced immediately, lifting her sunglasses onto her head and squinting at me across the table.
“I’m three minutes late,” I protested, sliding into the empty chair beside her.
“Still late,” she sing-songed.
“You already ordered wine?” I surveyed the glasses on the table, some of which were already filled.
“Correct.”
“It’s noon.”
“It’s Thursday,” Carmen chimed in helpfully, pushing a glass toward me with a grin.
“Of course.” I nodded like it being Thursday actually made a difference.
“Now she gets it.” Elena giggled.
I joined in her laughter and picked up the glass. The cool stem was slick against my fingers as I glanced around the table.
Carmen was leaning forward over her margarita, exuding the bright, mischievous energy seeming to accompany her wherever she went.
Beside her sat Sofia, calm and elegant, idly tearing pieces of bread from the basket while listening with the quiet amusement of someone who had long ago accepted the chaos simply following this group around.
Elena radiated effortless poise, her dark hair twisted into a loose knot and her linen dress catching the afternoon breeze. I still didn’t fully understand how I had ended up here, but I was grateful for it.
Carmen leaned closer. “What’s that face for?”
“I’m just thinking,” I replied with a smile, though I had absolutely no defense against my mind wandering.
It had wandered because this — this table, this laughter, this completely normal day with women complaining about husbands, work schedules and bad hair days — felt so different from the strange, carefully controlled bubble of my life with Sasha.
Which wasn’t a bad life, it could just get … intense.
And Elena, somehow, had slipped through that intensity like a beam of sunlight through a crack in a wall.
She was easy to talk to, warm, but also sharp and hilariously funny without trying. The kind of woman who asked questions and actually listened to the answers. The kind of woman I hadn’t had in my life for a long time.
“You’re quiet,” Elena whispered, elbowing me gently.
I took a sip of wine. “I’m listening.”
“You’re brooding.”
“I do not brood.” I shot her an incredulous look. “I’m literally the embodiment of positivity.”
Her smile turned teasing. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you but it sure looked like you were brooding.”
“Nah, that’s my boyfriend’s job.”
That got a laugh out of everyone at the table.
“Ohhh!” Sofia wagged her eyebrows. “The mysterious boyfriend.”
Ah yes, the mysterious boyfriend who liked to walk around with a fucking semi-automatic rifle slung over his shoulder.
Elena tilted her head toward me. “How is Mr. Broody?”
“Off brooding somewhere.” I waved a hand around vaguely. “There was some kind of … situation.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“It sounded ominous when he said it, too.”
“And you just let him leave?”
“What was I supposed to do?” I shrugged. “Grab his leg and refuse to let go? Pretty sure it would’ve been interpreted as a security threat.”
This earned another round of laughter.
It was ridiculous how nice it felt to just sit there, talking about nothing important, letting the world exist outside of Sasha’s orbit for a couple of hours. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed a female presence in my life until Elena showed up in a grocery store and started judging my produce.
Even after the plates had been cleared away, we lingered, drifting from gossip to stories to ridiculous debates about which beach had the best view of the ocean. The whole time, I couldn’t shake off the same strange thought.
I hadn’t had real friends in years. Women who interrupted me mid-sentence, stole fries off my plate, rolled their eyes at my stories, and invited me into their lives without asking me to shrink myself down first.
The realization still felt fragile in my chest, like something I was a little afraid to hold too tightly in case it vanished.
Eventually we said our goodbyes, hugging in the warm golden light of the late afternoon before I made my way back to the car. I was still basking in the afterglow on the drive up to the villa.
Elena had squeezed my arm when we said goodbye outside the restaurant; her dark hair shining in the sunlight. “Same time next week?”
“Absolutely.” I’d given her a huge, genuine smile.
Because somewhere between avocado advice and wine refills and comparing the weird, brooding habits of our respective men, Elena had wormed her way into my heart.
The drive up the hill towards the villa had become familiar by now; the narrow road wound through lush greenery before finally opening onto the cliffside view that still took my breath away every time.
The driver cleared his throat politely. “We’re here.”
Right. I really needed to stop zoning out like that.
I stepped out of the car, the late afternoon air cooler up here on the hill, brushing against my skin as I walked toward the house.
Two guards were standing near the entrance: one was leaning against a pillar and scanning the driveway; the other was holding a newspaper upside down, studying it with the intense focus of someone who was clearly not reading it.
Everything looked normal. Well, as normal as it got for me these days.
Sasha and Kyrill had been called away earlier, disappearing into their SUVs after receiving a call that wiped the easy amusement immediately off Kyrill’s face, replacing it with the cool focus indicating something serious had happened.
They had taken several of the men with them, but not all of them. They never took everyone.
Paranoid much?
I let out a small breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and started toward the door, my heels clicking softly against the stone terrace.
For a few seconds everything felt completely normal again. The quiet hum of insects, the faint rustle of palm leaves in the evening breeze … and then the window beside the entrance exploded.
Glass burst inward with a deafening crash, shards scattering across the terrace like glittering rain. I froze. It wasn’t intentional — my brain just couldn’t process what my eyes were seeing.
For a fleeting moment, everything felt disconcertingly wrong, as if the world had shifted slightly off its axis and my body hadn’t caught up yet.
A dark shape dropped from the perimeter wall, followed by another. Then a third man fell and they all landed in an uncoordinated heap of limbs and swearing.
“… What the fuck?” I whispered.
The guard by the pillar threw the paper on the floor and drew his weapon, but before anyone could react, gunfire erupted somewhere on the far side of the house.
More shots were fired in response, causing me to turn towards the courtyard. Fast, urgent shouting, definitely not in Russian, echoed from the back gate.
Fucking hell.
This was an ambush.
Two more of Sasha’s guards came running around the corner of the house with their weapons drawn. They moved with the kind of sharp, practiced coordination suggesting this had instantly become a real fight.
Misha spotted me immediately.
“Inside!” he barked.
I took one step toward the door, and then three more men came scrambling over the outer wall, rather clumsily.
One of them caught his foot on the top of the stone wall and nearly fell face-first into the courtyard, but he managed to haul himself down with the determined clumsiness of someone who had watched too many action movies.
Oh, this was bad. This was really fucking bad. Sasha was going to lose his shit.
It was confusing because the guys currently exchanging gunfire with Sasha’s guards sounded … significantly more professional.
Shots cracked again from the far side of the villa. The guard beside me shoved something into my hands so quickly I barely registered it before he was already turning back toward the attackers.
“Take it!” he shouted at me over his shoulder. “Shoot if they get close!”
I stared down at the gun, then back up at the three men who had just dropped into the courtyard like uncoordinated burglars. My hands were already shaking and the weight of the weapon felt wrong. Too heavy. Too real.
They had guns, but they were clearly out of breath, too. One of them was still brushing glass out of his hair.
More shots exploded behind us, near the back of the property. Apparently, the main fight was happening somewhere else. It also meant these three idiots had probably run ahead.
Fantastic.
One of them spotted me and pointed.
“There!” he yelled in Spanish.
Oh goody.
“Okay,” I muttered, lifting the gun with all the confidence of someone who had never wanted to shoot anyone in her life.
My heart was beating so fast, I could feel it in my throat. Fuck, I could not mess this up. This was precisely the reason why Sasha had wanted me to learn to defend myself.
“This feels like a terrible decision, but when in Rome.”
One of the intruders fired wildly. The bullet shattered the stone fountain beside me, spraying water across the courtyard and I flinched.
“Rude!”