Page 237 of Mile High Ruin

He comes around the car, opens my door and helps me out too quickly for it to feel gentle, though his hand does shift carefully when I stumble.

More shots echo between the warehouse walls. The sound is much closer now.

“Hide there,” he says, pointing toward a low concrete loading dock partly shielded by stacked pallets and a rusted metal container.

“No.”

“Do it.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“If you stand here, you will get shot.”

That works. I move because the baby moves, because fear becomes practical when there is someone inside me depending on whether I’m stupid or not.

Viktor guides me behind the pallets, then crouches in front of me for one second. “Stay down.”

“Viktor—”

He’s already gone.

I crouch behind the container with one hand braced on the rough concrete and the other over my stomach, trying not to breathe loudly, which is absurd because the whole lane is full of engines, shouting and the brutal, unmistakable sound of men arriving ready to kill.

Then I hear Vadim.

“Petrov.” His voice carries through the industrial yard with terrifying ease. “I know you enjoy making a spectacle, but hiding behind pregnant women is disappointing even for you.”

My heart lurches.

I shift just enough to see through a gap between the pallets. Vadim walks into the lane with Anton and Marek several steps behind him, his gun in his hand, his coat moving slightly in the wind. He looks nothing like the man who held me in the hospital suite. Nothing like the man who touched my stomach and looked as if the world had stopped.

This is the man people fear.

Viktor steps out from beside the car, gun already raised. “Careful, Chernovar.”

Vadim’s gaze sweeps the yard once. Looking for me. I know the exact second he finds the place where I’m hiding because his eyes pause for less than a heartbeat before moving away again.

He doesn’t betray me.

He looks back at Viktor. “Where is she?”

“Safe.”

Vadim smiles without warmth. “Not a word I associate with you.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same.”

Anton shifts, but Vadim lifts one hand slightly. “Stay back.”

Viktor notices. “So it’s just us?”

“If you have the courage for it.”

Viktor laughs once. “You always did enjoy pretending your violence was honor.”

“And you always did enjoy pretending your cowardice was strategy.”

For a few seconds, they stand with guns trained on each other, the lane silent except for the idle of engines and the distant clank of metal somewhere beyond the fence.