Chapter 5
Sienna
Elif projected another file onto the screen in her husband’s office, a profile containing the photograph and information of one of the women from the major Bratva families.
Information that was useless to me, since I already knew it all by heart.
After all, I had been working more or less for the Bratva for eight years, even if the bosses had never known it.
Vassili had hidden us well inside his business, a business the Ivanovs knew nothing about, a business I wanted to expose but could not, not as long as Vassili still held my leash.
Not as long as I refused to let them discover what I truly was.
A network rooted so deeply, spreading so far, growing so powerful, a business that should no longer remain in Vassili’s hands.
I was working on it. I would find a way to free all those women, to kill the Master and all his disciples, and to bring the truth into the open before the Ivanovs. But for now, I had to wait.
I stared at the screen with a bored expression while Elif explained everything we needed to know about Natalia Orlov.
I glanced at my sister sitting beside me and couldn’t help snorting when I saw her half-asleep.
She hadn’t really woken up from her nap, pregnancy was exhausting her, and we were all doing our best to help her, especially with the boys constantly demanding her attention.
But no one could replace their mother, a mother the twins and Mikhail had only recently recovered.
As if summoned by the thought, Mikhail entered the room just then, knocking softly, a tray in his hands.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” my sister asked, straightening up.
“Yes. I brought you a strawberry smoothie, Mom. I added the vitamins your doctor prescribed,” he said, setting the tray on the table.
I hid my smile behind my hand. It never ceased to amaze me how attentive the Ivanov men were toward the women of the house, from the youngest to the oldest. No one was treated as secondary or insignificant.
And that was something I had loved about the Ivanovs from the very beginning.
After all those years witnessing how women were treated like objects, like toys for the most perverse fantasies…
in a world where betrayal and injustice were routine, where trust was nothing but a tool to be exploited, this family was different.
Here, family stood at the center of every decision.
Everything was done for its protection, for its survival.
And when everyone fought toward the same goal, success became inevitable. That was why they were so powerful.
“And what about us? Do we count for nothing?” Elif suddenly asked, crossing her arms despite the smile on her lips.
Mikhail looked at us, cheeks flushing adorably.
“Leave him alone! This one’s just for me!
” Selina said, opening her arms. “Thank you, sweetheart, it’s perfect,” she kissed his cheek, making him blush even more.
My smile widened as warmth spread through my chest. Mikhail, Andrei, Alexei, even Ivan and Dimitri, to me, there was no difference between them and Rafael.
I would do anything to protect them. Hadn’t I already done so, months ago?
My gaze drifted to my right palm, where a thin scar crossed my skin, one of the few my body bore.
I brushed it with my thumb as memories of that dark night resurfaced.
I pulled the blanket higher over Dimitri, Andrei, and Rafael, who had fallen asleep tangled together, smiles still lingering on their faces.
It wasn’t surprising; they had drifted off telling stupid jokes and giggling.
I’d had to force them to sleep, since it was nearly four in the morning.
Elif and Selina would kill me if their kids couldn’t stand upright tomorrow, kids I adored.
I hadn’t spent much time around children before, and I never thought I had a maternal instinct, certainly not like my sister.
But being with these little monsters did me good.
They were carefree, innocent, free. Free from the world surrounding them…
for now. Their origins would eventually catch up with them.
They would grow into men like their fathers and uncles. Even Rafael would follow that path now.
I slid under my makeshift bedding on the floor.
A draft slipped under the door, so I’d chosen that spot to keep the children warm.
The wind howled outside, branches swaying, but the sound didn’t bother me.
I was used to noise. I could fall asleep in the middle of a nightclub if I had to.
I sighed as my thoughts drifted toward my Shadow.
He had been brooding a lot lately, and I knew exactly why, though he refused to talk about it.
He could be just as stubborn as I was. I needed to find a way to distract him.
My thoughts softened into murmurs as sleep began to pull me under… when suddenly something changed.
My eyes snapped open and fixed on the wall opposite me, where the shadows of branches danced through the window. I didn’t move. The first thing Ashwin had taught Kenji and me was to identify the threat before acting.
Something was wrong. The air felt different.
Too still. The soft draft under the door had stopped.
My gaze slid toward the door at the foot of the mattress, and my throat tightened when I saw shadows shifting on the other side.
My eyes darted to the metal pen the boys had left on the floor.
My hand slid from under the blanket and wrapped around it.
Cold. Heavy. Good. I slipped it beneath my pillow just as the door handle slowly turned.
My eyes closed, my heart pounding wildly.
Fear flooded me, real fear, but nothing was going to happen to those kids. Not on my watch. Never.
Footsteps entered the room. One person? No, two.
Heavy steps, deliberately quiet. I recognized the rhythm instinctively.
“Which one is it?” a rough voice whispered near my bed, “I don’t fucking know.
Why are there so many kids and a woman? They said there were only three,” another voice replied sharply.
Someone had helped them in. Someone had given them information about where the boys slept.
“I think it’s this one. He kind of looks like Rasili,” the first voice muttered.
My breath caught. Rasili. Italians. They had infiltrated the house.
It didn’t matter. I had to act. They were here for Rafael.
“Give me the sedative. I’ll handle it,” the impatient one growled, stepping closer to the boys’ bed as my fingers tightened around my weapon.
"Do you think Pablo took care of Nikolai Ivanov? He has to kill him and get the boss's wife," he suddenly grumbled as I felt him bend over the boys. The moment he mentioned my sister, my body reacted on instinct. I threw off the blanket with a shout that echoed through the house and drove the pen straight into the thigh of the man with the rough voice, the bigger one, just as I’d guessed. He screamed. I smashed my elbow into the second man’s throat as he turned in surprise. The boys woke screaming. My eyes met Mikhail’s as he leapt from the bed, dragging his cousins toward the back of the room, yelling for them not to move.
The second man grabbed my hair, but I already had his wrist in a hold.
I spun around without letting go and twisted his arm, making him scream.
His other hand reached down toward his boot, and I saw the glint of his knife.
Unfortunately for him, I was more agile than he was.
I bent down, grabbed the knife sleeve before he did, and pushed him with my shoulder.
His feet got tangled up in the boys' toys, and he fell halfway onto my mattress.
I saw the blow coming out of the corner of my eye and, despite my best efforts, I couldn't dodge it.
The burly man's fist met my cheek and the pain exploded, but I ignored it.
I would feel it later. Adrenaline helped me, and I crouched down, dodging the second blow.
I stood up, knife in hand, and without hesitation, I plunged it into the man's ribs, taking advantage of the opening.
He screamed, but I was already pulling the weapon out, pushing him with my forearm.
"Puttana!" (bitch) yelled the second man as he approached behind me.
Gunshots rang out in the villa as my fingers tightened around the knife handle.
The boys' cries filled the room as an iron grip grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.
Big mistake. Before the man had time to raise his fist, my knife was already slicing his throat with a swift, precise movement. Blood spurted out, hot and viscous.
His hands closed around his own throat as he dropped to his knees, gurgling, his eyes rolling back.
I staggered backward, breathless, sweat running down my spine.
The sight of blood did nothing to me. The man dying in front of me did nothing to me.
The life I had just taken did nothing to me.
I had seen and felt the cruelty of this world far too long ago and I had done far worse, hadn’t I?
“So much worse,” a dark voice whispered in my ear, and I shuddered. Not now. Not now.