“Permission to open the door and speak to your men?” Rafail asks. I can tell it takes a lot for him to ask someone for permission.
“Granted.”
Rafail gestures for all of us to stand back. Everyone is quick to obey before he opens the door. On cue, the Popov guards raise their weapons in perfect sync, the clicks echoing like the clicking of a grenade. But Rafail doesn’t flinch. He stands tall, still commanding the space around him as though daring them to make a move. He’s the one in control here, and everyone knows it.
My heart slams against my ribs, every beat a reminder of how close we are to unraveling. Zoya stifles a gasp beside me, but I can’t tear my eyes from Rafail. He’s deadly still. I reach wordlessly for Zoya’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
A phone rings, and one of the guards holds up a hand to the others.
"Nam prikazano otstupit,” he snarls.We’ve been ordered to stand down.
Rafail stands fearlessly in their midst, the call to Popov still on speaker.
“One of our party is no longer here. Check your ranks.” His words are a sharp command that can’t be ignored. No hesitation, no weakness—Rafail’s in control, and anyone who dares challenge him will regret it.
The guards stare at each other and quickly do what he says. Popov and Rafail talk to each other quietly until the first guard comes back to him.
“Sir,” he says to Popov. “We’re down a man.”
Rafail goes deadly still. “So one of your men was in league with my cousin,” he begins. “We need to find everything we can.”
“Here! Look!” Yana stands in front of one of the surveillance cameras.
Rafail swivels to the armed men, eyes blazing. “Popov, call them off,” he growls.
Popov gives the command, and the guards lower their weapons.
Yana stares, her eyes wide, until Rafail nods to her. “Go on.”
“I saw him with his cell phone a few minutes before we were cooking. There’s no footage of how he got out, but I was able to zoom in on his phone.”
Rafail walks to her, his eyes glued to the screen.
He reads quickly, cursing under his breath. “He’s betrayed us.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Anissa”
“No,”Irma says, shaking her head. “It can’t be. He did not!” She points an irate finger at Rafail, aimed like a dagger. Her voice shakes. “Youwere the one who made us come here.Youwere the one who got us in this trouble to begin with, you and your stupid bride. Don’t you dare blame my son!”
My blood boils. How dare she? I grit my teeth, my fists clenching.No oneinsults my husband, not while I’m standing.
We all know what it means for Gleb. He’s a dead man walking.
“Keep her under control,” Rodion snaps to Eduard. “Unless we know otherwise, we’re assuming Gleb betrayed us and escaped.”
“No!” Irma shouts, starting toward Rafail. I know the look of a crazed woman about to lose her mind. “You’re a fool!” she snarls.
I’m still hobbling on my cast, but that doesn’t stop me from stepping between the two of them. “Standdown, he said.”
Irma’s eyes flash to me, irritation boiling. She surges forward, trying to shove me aside, but the moment her hand reaches out, my body moves without thought.
Instinct.
Training.
My body reacts before my mind does. I grab her wrist, pivot on my good foot, and twist her arm with just enough force to tip her off balance. I don’t want to hurt her… unless I have to. No one,no one, touches my husband. The thought sends a surge of something primal through me. Love. Fear. Fury.
