Damian leads us down the hallway, moving with a slow, measured steadiness that's terrifying and reassuring at the same time. It’s clear, just like it was that night at the warehouse, that he knows exactly what he's doing, every movement calculated and precise.When we reach the stairs, he holds up a hand, listening for a moment before nodding and starting down.
The sounds of fighting are louder now—I can hear men shouting, the crash of furniture being overturned, more gunshots. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to keep moving, to follow Damian as he leads us through the house.
We don't go toward the main staircase. Instead, he takes us down a hallway I've never been in before, to what looks like a utility closet. But when he opens the door, there's another door behind it, this one made of heavy steel. He punches in a code on a keypad, and the door swings open to reveal a narrow staircase leading down.
"Go," he says, and I don't hesitate. I can hear the fighting getting closer, and all I can think about is getting Adam somewhere safe. Adam’s face is pressed into my shoulder now, his small body trembling, and I know he’s terrified. A burst of anger tears through me, a raw feeling that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.
Terrible things have happened to me in my life. Bad, hurtful, wrong things. Adam’s father. The men at the strip club. Sean. That night at the warehouse. But I’ve never felt hate like I do now, like I feel toward the men responsible for this attack, who are the reason my son is terrified right now. Who are the reason that some part of him will always remember this night, a trauma that will mark him forever.
I hope they die. I remember how I saw the bloody men on the warehouse floor, dead and dying, and thought that I was a horrible person for being glad that they were dead, after what they wanted to do to me.
This feels deeper, somehow. I hope Konstantin, Damian, and his men kill every one of the Russos. I hope they’re all dead by morning, just like they wanted for me. The violence of the feeling startles me, but I don’t push it away. I don’t tell myself that it’s wrong to feel it.
I’m not sure that it is.
The staircase leads to a small but well-appointed room that looks like it was designed to be lived in for an extended period of time. There are comfortable chairs, a small kitchenette, and what looks likea bathroom off to one side. And sitting in one of the chairs, looking absolutely furious, is Valentina.
"Finally," she says when she sees us, but her expression softens when she sees Adam in my arms. "Are you all right?"
I nod, though I'm not sure that's entirely true. My hands are shaking, and I can still hear the sounds of violence from upstairs, muffled but unmistakable.
"Konstantin?" Damian asks, and Valentina's jaw tightens.
"Dealing with it. Along with the rest of security." She stands up, and I can see the frustration radiating from her. "I'm supposed to stay down here like some helpless princess because I'm pregnant. As if I haven't been in worse situations than this."
There's something almost comforting about her irritation. It makes this feel less terrifying, somehow, like it's just an inconvenience rather than a life-or-death situation.
"You're protecting the baby," Damian says, and there's something gentle in his voice that I've never heard before. "Konstantin needs to know you're safe so he can focus."
Valentina makes a sound of disgust, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she turns to me, her expression softening. "Come sit down. You look like you're about to fall over."
I realize she's right. My legs are shaking, and Adam is getting heavy in my arms. I sink into one of the chairs, and Adam immediately curls up against me, his thumb finding its way to his mouth.
"Mama scared?" he asks in a small voice, and my heart breaks a little, that anger toward the men outside finding its way into the cracks.
"No, baby," I lie, smoothing his hair. "Mama's not scared. We're just having an adventure, remember? This is a secret part of the house that we’re exploring. Like a dungeon. Remember those Indiana Jones movies I like? We’re like him right now."
This seems to satisfy Adam for the moment, and he sits up, looking around a bit more curiously. The sounds from upstairs can’t penetrate down here, and in the way of toddlers, where things are quickly forgotten, his fear is rapidly receding.
Mine feels like it’s choking me.
Valentina looks at Damian, who's standing by the door, listening to something I can't hear. "How bad is it up there?"
"Bad enough," he says grimly. "But Konstantin has it handled. This won't last long.” There's something in his voice that makes me believe him. He sounds absolutely certain, like there's no question about the outcome.
"How did they get past security?" Valentina asks, and there's an edge to her voice that makes me think she has some idea. Her voice sounds not unlike Damian’s did upstairs.
"That's what we're going to find out," Damian says, his tone still cold and dangerous, like a sharpened knife’s edge. "I think someone let them in. Someone who's going to regret it."
The way he says it sends a chill down my spine, but also makes me feel safer somehow. I'm starting to understand that Damian's capacity for violence isn't something to be afraid of when you're on his side. He’s protecting us. As terrifying as this all is, I feel sure that he’s going to make it all alright. That no one can get to us, with him standing there.
Adam has gone quiet in my arms, and when I look down, I see that he's fallen asleep. The adrenaline and fear must have exhausted him. I'm almost envious—I wish I could just close my eyes and make all of this go away.
Valentina glances over at me, a small smile on her lips. "You're a good mother. I can tell."
The compliment catches me off guard, and I feel tears prick at my eyes, the whiplash of the night’s events rapidly becoming overwhelming. "I try to be. This isn't exactly the life I wanted for him."
"None of us get the life we planned," Valentina says with a slight smile. "But sometimes what we get is better than what we thought we wanted."
