“On you.”
Her smile was small, but real. Outside, the city continued unaware. I knew Kliment would regroup, and there would eventually be consequences for the choice I had just made. Possibly exile, confrontation, or war. But for the first time, I wasn’t calculating ten moves ahead. I was here. With her. And whatever came next, it would not be because she was a piece on the board. It would be because I chose her. And she chose me back.
Chapter 21 - Elisse
The silence should have warned me. Fyodor had told me that for the past few weeks, the Chernykh networks had gone dark. There were no intercepted signals, no movement on the edges of the city, and no retaliatory strikes. Fyodor had called it what it was. Iosif, Avgust, Timofey, and Lukyan were not even seen in public. What was even more surprising was that even Zhenya, Clara and Ilana had disappeared.
The calm before the storm.
I had pretended not to hear the tension beneath his voice when he said it, but I knew my family too well to know that this was not normal. It obviously meant something. That morning, the penthouse felt unusually still. Too still. The guards had rotated at dawn. Anya was in the kitchen arguing softly with one of the staff about flowers that had arrived wilted. The sky outside was a flat gray, heavy with impending rain. I was in the studio space I had carved out for myself, standing barefoot, smudged with charcoal, with fabric samples scattered across the table. A half-finished sketch lay beneath my hand.
It was a gown made with ivory silk. It had structured shoulders. Strength and softness stitched together. My phone, which was still secured and monitored, but finally returned to me a couple of weeks ago, sat untouched beside the window. I had not used it to call them. Not once.
Everything felt so quiet that the first gunshot almost didn’t sound real. It echoed from somewhere below, distant and muffled, and I froze. It was quickly followed by a second shot, which was much closer now and definitely not random. The needles fell from my hands as I looked around, unsure of what was happening. Fyodor was not home.
The sound of shattering glass detonated down the hallway, and my heart almost stopped. The penthouse erupted, which was quickly followed by shouting and the sound of boots. I could hear the faint crack of suppressed weapons, and I ran towards the door just as Viktor burst into the hallway, blood streaking down one side of his forehead.
“Inside,” he barked.
“What’s happening?”
“Stay in your room.”
Another explosion of sound rocked the building. The alarm system flickered once and immediately died. It had probably been strategically dismantled. My stomach dropped, making me realize that the power had been cut.
“Who is it?” I demanded.
He didn’t answer, but that was only because he didn’t have to. A part of me already knew exactly who it was. Just as I was beginning to absorb the news, the front doors blew inward without any chaos. It was all done with quiet precision instead. Men flooded the living room in coordinated formation, dressed in black tactical gear. Men I knew with their Chernykh insignias shining on their chests. Exactly like one of the insignias that I owned too.
And at the center of it all were Iosif and Avgust. My brothers.
They moved like they had rehearsed every single one of those steps. As much as I knew them, they probably had. Since the networks had gone silent, they hadn’t been dormant, but they had been planning instead.
“Secure the perimeter,” Iosif ordered coldly.
Shots were fired down the east corridor, followed by more shouting. I could hear the battle sounds all around me and the Romanov guards retaliating just the same. From what I had witnessed during my time here, Fyodor’s men were both smart and experienced, and it was not going to be an easy battle.
I stepped out from inside the studio, and Avgust saw me first.
“Elisse.”
His voice wasn’t soft, but it was furious. He crossed the room in seconds, his gaze raking all over me as if he was inspecting me for chains or wounds or marks, but he found none of it. I was wearing a yellow sundress, my hair thrown open, and just until a few minutes ago, I had been calm with the world. He held me by the shoulders and pulled me in for a hug, but I couldn’t find the heart to hug him back. As good as it was to see him, I was still in shock.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, questions rushing out of him.
“I am fine. I am fine,” I replied, still trying to find my footing. “How did you guys get here?”
“That is not important. What’s important is that you are safe, and now you need to come with us.”
“What are you doing?” I demanded, heart pounding as I pushed myself away from him.
“We are taking you home, Elle.”
“I am home.”
His jaw clenched at my response, but for some reason, he didn’t exactly look surprised. “Please don’t say that. You were kidnapped, and you have been kept here against your will. I am not sure if he married you or not, but if he did marry you, thatdoes not mean you belong to him, or that this is your home. The marriage means nothing.”
Iosif stepped forward more slowly, gaze scanning me for injuries.
