Chapter Eighteen
Tatiana
T en days later, TAP United Logistics, Boston...
Tatiana stared thoughtfully out of her office window. The Boston Logan International Airport stretched before her, but her mind wandered to darker places. Almost two weeks had passed since that night with Jarek, when her world had once again shifted on its axis.
“Jarek finally agreed to the Atlanta trip,” she told Levin as he settled into the chair across her desk. “Provided he goes with.”
Levin’s face twisted with disdain, not bothering to hide his feelings for her husband. “Don’t tell me he believes we’re going there for a sexual tête-à-tête?”
“As if that would bother me either way.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her inner voice screamed ‘Hypocrite!’ as she recalled Jarek’s gentle touches that night and how his strong hands had traced her skin with utmost tenderness as he consoled her. Since then, he had transformed from the cold, calculating man she married into someone who watched over her with genuine concern.
“He’s been cautious ever since that talk I had with Gregor... for obvious reasons, and to be honest, I’ve been wary about it myself.” She paused, the taste of the next words bitter on her tongue. “My grandfather is a cruel mafia Don, first and foremost. I’ve known him all my life, and believe me, he’s not the kind of man who would take what I did lightly. You know the saying... you never walk away from the Bratva alive.”
“But you’ve never been IN the Bratva, Tat. Surely he’s not that vindictive?”
Her chest tightened as she recalled her parents’ tale of their desperate escape and Maxim’s tortured expression when he spoke about Gregor killing Nikolai’s wife, leaving her to die with their unborn child never taking a breath. The truth she had buried deep inside for so many years clawed its way up.
“That’s the problem, Lev. I’m not sure what he is or how he’s going to react anymore.” She met his concerned gaze. “I only realized in the past couple of months that I never really knew him... knew them . They’re both wearing masks to the world, always have.” The admission hurt more than she expected. These people had raised her, loved her. Or had they? Did they even know how?
“One indisputable fact is that I know more about them than anyone, even than their mob alliances. Just like my parents all those years ago, I now pose a threat, and that is the problem.” She smiled wryly.
“As much as it pains me to admit it, Jarek might be right to worry.” Tatiana’s gaze drifted back to the bustling landing strip below. “Gregor’s reach is far, and his memory is long.”
The image Maxim had painted of Nikolai’s dead wife flashed through her mind. Now, she understood why Nikolai had stayed with the organization despite his hatred for his brother. He had remained close, watching, waiting—just as she should have done. In the end, Nikolai had followed the same path as his family. Gregor had struck when he finally threatened to walk out. The brutal murder of an innocent woman, her unborn child, then later, his own brother spoke volumes about the man who had raised her. A man she had called grandfather.
She caught Levin’s skeptical glance at her defense of Jarek.
“Maybe we should give him a chance, Lev. His protectiveness... maybe it runs deeper than his vendetta against Gregor.”
Yet, doubt gnawed at her core. Would Jarek have looked at her twice without his quest for revenge? Was their arranged marriage fostering real affection, or was she falling for another carefully crafted mask?
“I’m prepared to keep an open mind, but I sincerely doubt that I’ll ever trust him,” Levin said with his usual skepticism when Jarek was discussed.
Tatiana’s heart constricted at his words. She turned back to the window to hide the doubt she was also struggling with.
“Either way,” he continued, “it’s your call and your decision. Just don’t let sweet words and gentle kisses fool you, Tat. In case you forgot, he’s got one vicious reputation as the Dark One here in Boston.”
“In regard to financial manipulation and criminal investments, yes, I know.” Her voice wavered slightly. “I overheard him talking to Declan and Nevil the other night. One thing I know for sure is that they never kill without justification... and never anyone outside of the criminal enterprises. I mean, he has more than enough justification to kill my grandfather, yet that has never been part of his plan.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Levin leaned forward with his frown deepening. “Knowing the life you lived and how you hated being part of that kind of world, do you honestly want to bring a child into it?”
The question hit her like a physical blow as she instinctively pressed a hand against her flat stomach.
“No,” she whispered. The word tasted like ash in her mouth. “If I stay married to Jarek, that’s one dream that won’t come to fruition. I will never have his child as long as he’s involved with the Irish mob.”
At thirty-five, her biological clock wasn’t just ticking—it was screaming. She had always imagined herself as a mother by thirty. Now, those dreams slowly slipped through her fingers.
With resignation dragging her spirit down, she sighed heavily. Love might heal many wounds, but could it fill the void of an unborn child? Even if Jarek’s tender touches and protective nature stemmed from genuine affection, even if he ever said the words, would that be enough? Could his love compensate for the children she would never have?
The shrill ring of her desk phone pierced the tension-filled office.
“Yes?” The word barely left Tatiana’s mouth when she heard the guard’s labored breathing.
“Mrs. Farrel, we’re being invaded!” The young security guard’s whisper trembled with raw terror. “Five trucks arrived with about fifty men swarming inside.” She heard the rapid click of his boots against marble as he moved.
The unmistakable sound of automatic gunfire crackled through the line. Tatiana jerked the receiver from her ear. Her fingers felt numb.
“What... oh my God! Is that gunfire?”
“Yes.” His voice cracked. “They just shot two of our guards. There’s so much blood...”
A scuffle sounded, followed by a gruff, older voice in her ear. “They’re demanding entrance to your private elevator, Mrs. Farrel.” She recognized Robert Ward’s voice. The Head of Security, who usually was calm and collected, now sounded stressed. “They already killed two of my men and shot three employees for refusing to give them the access code.”
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. “Who are they?”
“Some of them are speaking in Russian, so I assume they’re from some local Bratva or syndicate.”
The word ‘Russian’ sent ice through her veins. Her knees weakened as realization struck. Gregor Polov had made his move. Her grandfather’s men had come to collect their prey.
“I don’t want anyone else to die here today.” Her voice shook. “Give them access to the elevator.”
“But I promised Mr. Farrel I’ll always protect you.”
“And you tried, but I refuse to be the reason innocent people die. It’s me they want, so do as I said.” Her words caught in her throat as another burst of gunfire echoed through the line.
“Only if you promise to run and phone Mr. Farrel. We’ll keep them from your fire escape elevator at the back of the building. It’s a security feature in your office that only a few of us know about. Use it, Mrs. Farrel.”
“Get the fuck out here!” The harsh command preceded the sound of splintering wood and more gunfire. The phone clattered to the floor, followed by Robert’s fading voice, “Don’t shoot. I’ll take you to the elevator.”
Tatiana’s hands shook so violently, she dropped her phone twice before managing to grab it. Her pulse roared in her ears.
“They’re here, Lev. Gregor Polov sent his men for me. We need to get out of here. Now!”
“Phone Jarek!” Levin grabbed her arm, practically dragging her toward the hidden panel.
Her trembling fingers found Jarek’s number as the elevator doors sealed them inside. The car began its descent, each floor marked by a soft ding that seemed to mock their desperation. Her breath came in short gasps that matched the pounding of her heart.
“Let’s pray they don’t know about this elevator or the escape tunnel below ground,” she murmured as the phone rang once, twice... Her free hand pressed against the cool metal wall, seeking stability as the elevator continued what seemed to be an agonizingly slow journey downward.
“Jarek.” Her voice cracked when he answered. “They’re here. Gregor’s men.”
“Jesus, fuck!” His curse echoed through her mind, and she swallowed hard as she heard the fear in his voice.
“They’ve already killed two security guards and wounded three people.” The elevator continued its descent, each floor taking them closer to either salvation or slaughter. “We’re in the fire escape elevator. Robert said he’d keep them away, but...”
“Hold fast, love. We’re on the way.” His voice darkened. “If they take you, stay calm, Tatiana, and know this... I will find you.”
“Just hurry the fuck up.”
“Be strong, love.”
Levin squeezed her shoulder as she ended the call. They watched the floor numbers decrease with excruciating slowness. Eight... seven... six...
“If they’re waiting for us, please don’t be a hero, Lev. Just stay calm.”
“Fucking easier said than done,” he muttered as the elevator shuddered to a halt.
Tatiana’s heart stuttered as the doors slid open with a soft hiss to reveal the dimly lit tunnel. The air felt thick and oppressive.
“Did you honestly think Polov isn’t an expert on hidden escape routes, Princess?” The familiar voice sliced through her like a blade. “It was the first thing he looked for on the blueprints of this very fine establishment.”
“Skull,” she whispered miserably as the massive figure emerged from the shadows flanked by four of his men. His scarred face was twisted into a cruel smile. The man who had taught her to shoot and how to defend herself was now aiming a gun at her heart. Her stomach churned at the sight of him as memories of training sessions were at war with the present danger.
Levin moved, trying to shield her with his body. Rage and terror warred inside her. Rage at Gregor for sending this monster, and terror for Levin’s life. He had no idea what he had just stepped into.
“No, stay back,” she said urgently as her fingers dug into his arm, attempting to pull him back.
Skulls’ scorn echoed off the concrete walls. “I don’t have time to babysit this asshole.” The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space.
“NO!” Tatiana’s scream tore from her throat as Levin crumpled to the floor. She caught him as he fell, frantically pressing her hands against the spreading crimson stain on his chest. “No, no, no...” His eyes, already glazing over, stared sightlessly past her. The warmth of his blood seeped through her fingers, but she couldn’t stop, nor could she accept the message those empty eyes sent.
Something snapped inside her. Years of training under this man, years of fear and submission to Gregor—they all crystallized into pure fury. She launched herself at Skull with one leg sweeping up in a vicious arc. The sharp edge of her heel connected with his jaw in a satisfying crack.
The giant barely stumbled but growled at the cut from the spike of her shoe. His eyes darkened with anger as he wiped the blood from his chin.
“You asked for this. Gregor’s princess or the fuck not, I’m not babying you.”
She never saw the punch coming. One moment, she was coiling for another attack; the next, darkness exploded behind her eyes. As consciousness slipped away, Jarek’s promise echoed in her mind. “If they take you, stay calm, Tatiana, and know this... I will find you.”
Her last thought was of Levin’s lifeless eyes and the prayer that Jarek would make them all pay for her best friend’s death... Gregor Polov most of all.