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I stand there seething. God, I hate it when Mikhail’s like this. It’s moments like these that I remember why he’s the head of the Antonov Bratva. Under extreme pressure, he doesn’t crack. It’s admirable.
“I’m a phone call away,” my brother says, turning away. “Stay vigilant.”
“You, too.”
Once he’s gone, I head inside and try to get acquainted with my new surroundings. Mikhail’s summer house boasts two floors and a basement. Tall evergreens surround the property, making for perfect cover and privacy. The inside is made of varnished redwood and large windows to let the sun in—all of them bulletproof, no doubt. There’s a small kitchen, a cramped living room space with a TV over the fireplace, and a decently sized pantry filled with questionable canned goods. All in all, though, an ideal place to regroup and fortify.
I find Dahlia seated on the couch, Simon fast asleep in her arms. The poor woman looks as weary as I feel.
“How is he?” I ask her.
“Fast asleep, Mr. Antonov. And in perfect health thanks to Natalya’s quick thinking.”
I take Simon from her and hold him tight, allowing him to snore against my shoulder. “Dahlia, this goes without saying, but if you feel like you’d rather leave…”
She shakes her head. “I’ve been serving the Antonovs for years. This isn’t the first time I found myself in this situation. Whatever you need, I will do my best to provide.”
“Thank you, Dahlia.”
“Would you like me to set Simon down in his room? I think the guards have made it up by now.”
I shake my head. “I’d like to spend a bit more time with him. You go ahead and get some sleep.”
She smiles appreciatively, starting towards the creaky old stairs. “Thank you, Mr. Antonov.”
All’s quiet. The stillness, eerie. After the day we’ve had, I suppose I should be thankful for the silence.
I take a seat on the couch and sink into the cushions, patting Simon gently on the back. He’s adorable when he sleeps, not a care in the world to be found. What I would give for a slice of that blissful ignorance.
I try to still my mind, but a tiny voice in the furthest, darkest corner of my brain continues to nag me. Something’s off and I can’t put my finger on it. It has nothing to do with my men’s deaths or the fact that my home was attacked with military precision. What bothers me is something Natalya said.
We need to get you out of here. There’s cops everywhere.
Her words play on repeat inside my skull, echoing. I know why I need to be wary of the cops, but why doesshethink so, too? As far as I can tell, I haven’t let it slip that I’m Bratva. Natalya believes I’m a government official. What self-respecting government official would hide from the police instead of going to them for assistance? None of this make sense…
Unless she knows.
But how can she know? I’ve been careful. Could she have overheard one of the guards talking about Bratva business? No, surely they’re smarter than that. Loose lips sink ships and all. They’d have to be idiots to have those kinds of conversations out in the open and within earshot.
Maybe I misheard her. Maybe my brain is officially fried from all the stress I’ve been under. I really don’t know.
Simon hiccups himself a wake. He yawns, stretching his little fingers. When he locks eyes with me, he smiles and giggles, though he’s still clearly half asleep as he pats my cheek.
“Hello, little man,” I mumble, kissing his tiny fingers. “Did you have sweet dreams?”
Simon coos, making unintelligible sounds that almost like words, but not quite. “Da…”
I chuckle. “Are you trying to say Dada?”
“Da…”
Despite how tired I am, I find myself smiling. This precious little boy, myson…
Something inside me breaks.
It finally dawns on me how much of a close call today was. From what I understand, it was because of Natalya’s quick thinking that Dahlia was able to get to Simon and barricade themselves in his room. Natalya put her life on the line to protect them and almost lost her life for it. If her attacker had decided to continue searching the house…
I shake my mind free of the thoughts. I won’t let my fears take over my imagination. The point is my son is here with me and he’s alive, happy, and healthy. I owe Natalya a great debt, one I don’t think I will ever be able to repay.
