I whirl just in time to see thick pages of sepia photographs flutter to the ground.
A photo album?
The weathered leather cover has pages hanging out, filled with families staring at the camera in Victorian clothing.
He moves to the next shelf, grabbing boxes and tossing them aside. I catalogue them as they hit the wall. More albums. A box of film reels. VHS. Old family videos, probably.
The kind you would store in a cool, dark place devoted to family legacy.
“No.” His good hand sweeps across a shelf, sending everything crashing. “Fuck!”
Pavel and Anton huddle near the door as Dimitri spins, taking in the contents of the cave.
I understand now.
This isn’t the kind of treasure you leave in a bank.
On one shelf, I spy dozens of leather-bound journals. Mixed among them, my mother’s handwriting shines on one of the spines.
Another shelf holds blueprints rolled and secured with ribbon. I catch a glimpse of one title. “Alibi Club—Final Plans.” The structure my grandfather designed. Architectural drawings. Specifications.
More shelves. More archives. Birth certificates. Marriage licenses. Deeds. Contracts. The paper trail of Kozlov existence. The data of lives lived, families grown, and an empire built.
All of it’s absolutely worthless to someone desperate for money, power, and resources.
In the center of the cave, evidence of the happy family life he never got to enjoy surrounds an increasingly angry Dimitri, who’s grown intent on wealth and revenge. Instead, he’s forced to confront a family tree he has no branch on.
His face contorts with rage. “Get out.”
No one obeys.
I’m certainly not going to. I know what’s next for me. If I can get close to one of the tables, I might be able to break these zip ties. I can fight one-handed if necessary.
Standing in the heart of my family legacy, I feel my strength returning.
Chaos Island changed me once. Now, with every slow, controlled breath I take, I’m changing again. It’s time to take ownership of my life’s path, for good or ill.
Max and my family may not be here, but I’m still Anika Kozlov, and I’m not going down without a fight.
“I said get out!” Dimitri hurls a photo album at Anton.
It’s not heavy enough to be a real threat, but Anton and Pavel still duck and bolt for the door while Dimitri throws a temper tantrum that would rival a toddler’s.
I slide sideways on silent feet, searching for something I can use to get free or improvise a weapon. My stomach clenches.
I’m stuck in a cave with a mad man, with six armed men outside who will ensure I do whatever he wants. Every move I make is life or death now.
“I guess we’re done here.” Dimitri’s voice flattens as he runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “No extra money. That’s fine. I have everything I need to breed my own Bratva.”
My entire body nearly convulses with revulsion.
He’s talking aboutbreeding me.
I’ve banked my energy for this. One last fight, winner takes all.
Like he can hear my thoughts, Dimitri turns to face me. “And there’s no time like the present to start. Your sweet ass will be my consolation prize.”
“No. You were right the first time.”
