My brother. The man who raised me, who taught me to count money and keep my head down. The man who sold me out to save his own skin.
I think about the file Maksim showed me. The payment trails, the recorded conversations, the proof that Damir had been working for the Karpin family all along. How long had he been lying to me? How long had I been nothing more than a useful tool in his operation?
The worst part is the voice recording. Damir's voice, clear and unmistakable, giving them my address. My schedule. Everything they needed to take me.
"Just make sure she doesn't suffer," he had said. "She's still my sister."
Still his sister. As if that meant anything when he was handing me over to be murdered.
I press my face against Maksim's shoulder and breathe in his scent. He smells solid, real, safe. Everything Damir stopped being the moment he chose the Karpin family over me.
What tears me up inside is that I still love him. Despite everything, despite the betrayal and the lies, part of me still loves the brother who used to bring me hot tea on cold nights. The brother who promised to keep me safe from the world.
But promises mean nothing when they're built on lies.
Maksim shifts in his sleep, and I feel his arm tighten around me. Even unconscious, he's protecting me. Even exhausted and injured, he's making sure I'm safe.
This is what loyalty looks like. Not pretty words and empty promises, but action. Protection. The willingness to bleed for someone you love.
I have a family now. Maksim and the baby, and by extension, the Vetrov Bratva. They're my family now, and I know they'll never sell me out, never use me as a pawn in someone else's game.
The city lights twinkle outside the window, and I watch them blur through my tears. I mourn the brother I lost, the family I thought I had. But I also feel grateful for what I've found.
Dawn is still hours away, but I can feel it coming. A new day, a new beginning. The old Zoya died in those tunnels tonight, the one who believed in her brother's lies and kept her head down.
The woman who remains is stronger—harder. And as long as Maksim is beside me, I can face anything.
30
MAKSIM
The Vetrov estate sits in darkness when I arrive, but the war room burns with fluorescent light. Maps cover every surface, and multiple screens display real-time intelligence feeds. Rolan stands at the center of it all, his face grim as he reviews the latest reports.
"We found them," I announce, dropping a thick folder onto the table.
He looks up, his eyes sharp with interest. "Where?"
"Belarus border. Damir's moving with the remaining Karpin leadership. They're planning an extraction." I spread the surveillance photos across the table. "Three vehicles, minimal security, taking the northern route through Tver."
Rolan studies the images. Damir's face is clearly visible in one of the shots, sitting in the back of a black SUV. He looks sicker than when I saw him in the tunnels, like he's on something, which is an explanation as to why he'd sell his sister out, but not an excuse.
"How solid is this intel?" Rolan asks.
"Confirmed by three independent sources. They're moving tomorrow night, around eleven." I point to the route markedon the map. "They think the northern route is safer, less Bratva presence. They're wrong."
"What do you need?"
"Full authorization. Five intercept units, traffic camera access, drone surveillance, and a high-speed pursuit team." I meet his eyes. "This ends tomorrow night."
Rolan nods slowly. "You have it. All of it."
"There's one more thing." I hesitate, thinking of Zoya's face when she learned the truth about her brother. "Damir Mirov dies tomorrow. There's no other way this ends."
"I know." Rolan's voice is steady. "He's Karpin. He's a threat to the family. To your wife and child."
"Zoya won't see it that way."
"Zoya doesn't need to see it any way. She needs to be protected." He leans forward. "This is what we do, Maksim. We protect our own."
