“What if Alexei comes back with more men?”
“We’ll be ready for him.”
I holster my weapon and pull her to me, breathing in her familiar scent while my heart rate slowly returns to normal.
“You realize this changes everything,” she says against my throat.
“I know.”
“Your organization will split. Some will follow Alexei; others will stay loyal to you.”
“Probably.”
“Was it worth it?”
I think about letting my brother execute the woman I love to preserve family unity and organizational stability.
“Ask me again when we’re not dodging bullets from people who want us dead.”
But even as I hold her close, I know the answer. Shooting Alexei to protect Katya was the first honest thing I’ve done since I pulled her from that hospital bed.
Everything else was manipulation or revenge or psychological games.
This was love.
Messy, violent, destructive love that’s going to cost me everything I’ve built over the past fifteen years.
And I’d do it again without thinking twice.
35
Katya
Katya
The woman in our doorway looks like she could kill us with her bare hands and still have time to redecorate the penthouse.
“Sasha,” Dmitri breathes. For the first time since I’ve known him, he sounds genuinely terrified.
“Don’t you ‘Sasha’ me,” she snaps as she shoves past him into the living room. “What the fuck is wrong with you two idiots?”
Sasha Kozlov is nothing like I expected. She’s petite where her brothers are tall and imposing, with blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun and green eyes that could cut glass. She’s wearing a black business suit that screams expensive and practical, and she moves through the room like she owns everything in it.
“How did you know—” Dmitri starts.
“Boris called me the second Alexei showed up here with a goddamn tactical team. Then Maxim called me from the hospital, where they’re digging a bullet out of my other brother’sshoulder.” She whirls around to face him, and the temperature in the room drops ten degrees. “Care to explain why you shot your blood?”
He waves in my direction. “He was going to kill Katya.”
“And instead of talking to him like a rational human being, you decided violence was the better option?”
“Talking wasn’t working.”
“Did you try harder than five fucking minutes?”
Dmitri opens his mouth to argue, then thinks better of it. Smart man.
Sasha’s gaze lands on me next, and I resist the urge to take a step backward. “You must be the famous FSB agent who’s caused all this drama.”
