Chapter 7
Present day
Katya
The safehouse sat on the outskirts of Dubai, tucked behind rows of half-constructed villas and palm trees planted too recently to look natural.
At night, the place felt abandoned in that eerie way only new developments can—quiet, sand drifting across empty sidewalks, and the city skyline glittering far in the distance like a mirage.
The Dragunov brothers had shown me this place not long ago, back when we were still circling each other with the suspicion of our uneasy alliance.
I remembered Mikhail calling it ‘a temporary fallback location,’ which—coming from him—meant it was basically a fortress disguised as an investment property no one asked questions about.
There was no way Revenant would know it existed.
That alone made it the safest place within a hundred kilometers.
I paced the length of the living room, checking the blinds, checking the locks, checking my pulse.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and I didn’t know if it was adrenaline, fear, or fury.
Probably all three. The whole place smelled faintly of dust and leather, but the scent of my men was missing entirely.
I’d followed Andrei’s instructions exactly: get out, get clear, get here. He’d texted me not long after I had texted him.
Waiting was killing me, though. I couldn’t relax. I hated feeling nervous and I really hated having to be patient.
Nine hours. That’s how long it took him to get from southern China to Dubai. Nine hours where my mind kept replaying Viktor’s face. Nine hours imagining Kara, Roman, Lev, and Dmitri—all trapped in Revenant’s tower, drugged or bound or worse.
Nine hours replaying the moment Revenant’s senior interrogator looked at me with too-knowing eyes and said,
“Double agents never last long, Miss Volkov.”
By the time I heard a car pull up outside, headlights sweeping across the front windows, my heart felt like it was trying to escape my ribs. I moved toward the door on instinct, one hand on the handle, the other hovering near the knife I’d stolen from the Revenant lab corridor before escaping.
The door cracked open.
Andrei stepped inside, his face beard-shadowed from travel, his coat half-zipped, dark hair wind tossed. He closed the door behind him and locked it, scanning the room like a man expecting an ambush.
Only when he spotted me did something in his posture ease.
“Katerina,” he breathed out. “Thank God.”
I didn’t realize until that moment how close I was to coming apart. The sound of my name—my full name, shaped by his accent—hit me deep.
He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled me into him before I could protest.
For a heartbeat, I let myself melt into the warmth of him. He smelled like their private jet: leather, cold air, and adrenaline. His hands pressed against my back like he needed to make sure I wasn’t a hallucination.
Then I pushed against him lightly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he said softly, searching my face. “But you’re alive. That’s enough for now.”
His eyes held worry that made my throat burn. Andrei Dragunov didn’t worry easily. He hid it under humor and charm, but he wasn’t trying for that right now.
“What happened?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Revenant happened.”
He shoved a hand through his hair, pacing once before returning to me. “Start from the beginning.”
So I did. I told him everything—meeting Revenant’s envoy, the guards, the split-second we lost control of our plan.
How Revenant had taken the Markovs and Kara captive.
How Viktor dragged me into the service hallway so we could hit their meeting and instead walked us straight into an ambush.
The separation from Viktor, the Markovs, and Kara, and the cold, gleaming interrogation wing they dragged me through.
The escape route I carved through the drainage system and the message I sent him with trembling fingers.
He listened in silence, jaw tight, shoulders pulled back.
When I finished, he leaned on the table, bracing himself like the weight of the world had just landed across his back.
“All of them. They took all of them,” I said quietly.
He swore viciously under his breath, something in Russian that sounded like a threat and a prayer tangled together.
“That’s not all,” I said, pacing. “They know I was playing both sides.”
“Katerina.” Andrei’s expression hardened instantly. “Why would they—? Did they say it?”
I just nodded.
He cursed again, running a hand down his face.
Finally, he pushed off the table and stepped closer.
“We’ll get them out,” he said. “All of them.”
I stared at him. “It’s not that simple.”
He cocked a brow. “I didn’t say it was simple.”
“We’re outnumbered.”
“Not new.”
“We’re outgunned.”
He shrugged. “Also not new.”
“This is starting to feel hopeless,” I said, breath unsteady. “Nobody wins against Revenant. Not for long.”
He reached out and cupped the side of my face, thumb brushing under my cheekbone with such gentleness it nearly undid me.
“Katerina Volkov,” he murmured, “I don’t care who they are. I don’t care what they’ve built. I don’t care how many weapons, guards, scanners, or twisted little power games they have in that tower. They made one mistake.”
My throat tightened. “And what’s that?”
“They took my brother.” His thumb grazed my cheek again. “And they took you.”
Heat prickled behind my eyes; whether it was anger or fear, I didn’t know.
He stepped back just enough to reach for the bag he’d dropped by the door. “We start planning now. No sleep. No waiting. No giving them another damn second.”
He rummaged through the bag, pulling out a tablet and a thumb drive.
I paced again, adrenaline back in full force. “You know this is suicide, yes?”
He glanced up with a crooked grin that did nothing to hide the steel in his eyes.
“I prefer the term ‘creative risk.’”
I snorted despite myself. “You’re crazy.”
“And you,” he replied, “are too calm for someone who climbed out of a drainage pipe after escaping a black-ops detention wing.”
“Oh,” I replied flatly. “I’m not calm. I’m furious.”
“Good. Fury helps.” He paused, then tilted his head. “But it doesn’t hide the fact that you smell like you wrestled a sewer rat and lost.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
He lifted both brows, lips twitching. “Katerina, you are incredible. Brilliant. Beautiful. Terrifying. One of the deadliest people I know. But right now?” He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “You smell.”
Heat rushed straight to my face. “I crawled through nano-coated sludge, Andrei. I didn’t exactly think to find a luxury spa.”
He laughed quietly, the sound warm enough to take the sting out of the words. “No judgment. But you are covered in… I don’t even know.” His gaze dipped to the unidentifiable substance on my sleeves. “And I’m not even going to ask what that is.”
I stared down at myself—the dirt and slime smeared on my clothes from top to bottom, the bits of rust flaking off various parts, the unpleasant stickiness I’d been trying to ignore—and groaned. “Fine. I’m disgusting.”
“You are,” he agreed cheerfully. “Absolutely.”
I swatted his arm, which only made his grin widen.
“But,” he added, softer now, “you’re alive. And that’s the part that actually matters.”
My blush deepened, which annoyed me more than the dirt and the sludge. “Fine. I’ll shower. After we figure out the plan.”
He gave a slow, knowing nod. “Of course. But I’m standing upwind until then.”
I glared. He laughed again, the tension in the room easing for one brief moment.
Andrei moved to the table and opened his laptop with a decisive click. I slid into the chair beside him.
“Let’s burn their tower down,” I grinned.
Andrei’s smile widened, turning lethal. “We will.” Then he scrunched his nose as he scooted his chair a little further away from me.
“After I shower,” I muttered, finally admitting defeat.
He chuckled. “Yes, please. Before the paint starts peeling off the walls.”
I kicked his shin, and for the first time in hours, I felt almost like myself again.
The shower in the safehouse was really nice, with steamy hot water, decent pressure, and tiles that weren’t cracked or stained with questionable history. It didn’t erase the grime of the drainage tunnels instantly, but the steam helped loosen the knots in my shoulders.
It also didn’t stop my thoughts from spiraling about Viktor. I hoped he was okay. I hoped they weren’t hurting him. Revenant wasn’t known for their mercy, especially when it came to interrogations and my stomach tightened just thinking about it.
I scrubbed every inch of my body, like soap and enthusiasm could make the problem smaller.
I shut off the water and stood there dripping, breathing hard, trying to center myself. Stress made my pulse race. Made my mind scatter. Made me want things that had nothing to do with planning a rescue and everything to do with sex.
And I knew exactly who was sitting outside this bathroom waiting for me like the responsible Dragunov he pretended to be.
I towel-dried quickly, put on fresh clothes—a loose black shirt and yoga pants—and finger-combed my hair. It wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just needed to feel like I was back in control of something. Anything.
When I stepped back out into the main living room, Andrei looked up from the laptop. His eyes flicked over me once, careful, respectful, but with a glimmer of amusement he couldn’t hide. His mouth tugged slightly. Just slightly.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “But I’m cleaner.”
“That’s… a huge improvement.” He tapped a key. “Come here. I pulled up internal schematics for Revenant’s tower. Maybe—”
“Later.”
He blinked. “Later?”
“Yes, Andrei. Later.” I walked over, planted my hands on the table, and stared him down. “Because right now, I am two seconds from climbing the walls with stress. And you’re sitting here, acting like you’re going to solve this all by yourself, and it’s deeply irritating.”
His brows lifted, amused. “So, this is my fault?”