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A morning gust whipped up by warming air danced across the water, turning the glassine surface to matte as it nudged the bow to starboard, lining up the lake house at twelve o’clock. The mansion’s architecture was imposing, its elegant façade exuding an air of opulence. It stood a distance from its closest neighbor, as if safeguarding the privacy of its inhabitants.
“Did you ever once imagine that I would remember the location of your secret hideaway, Andrei?” The words rolled off her tongue, leaving behind the now bitter taste of an evening they had shared over a bottle of wine.
Memories like old photographs flickered through her mind, reminding her of their tender lovemaking on the night Andrei had told her about the lake house. It had been a time when their connection had been intense—a time when their love, like a hidden garden, had revealed itself in full bloom.
He had shared his secret home with an enthusiasm that was infectious—a dream he had nurtured, designed, and built with his own hands over the course of five years. The passion he had invested in its creation was unmistakable in every carefully crafted detail.
As she stared at his dream come to life like the gentle ripples on the water’s surface, a myriad of emotions washed over her. The house with its rustic charm made her yearn for what once was. Ignorance of what was to come at the time had fed the dreams she had created in her mind of sharing this place with him. It was now a distant memory, yet vivid in her recollection.
“Yes!” Her eyes lit up as a man exited the house. “Itisthe right house… and I’ve got you, you bastard! Shit.” She clamped her hand over her mouth as her triumphant shout escaped her lips. In her excitement, she had forgotten how far sound carried over water.
Her eyes darted nervously to the surroundings. She couldn’t afford to be discovered now, not after the meticulous planning to get there. Not to mention that she had purposely omitted to tell her brothers about the place and that she was coming here alone to investigate.
“Da, Arian is gonna be seriously pissed when he finds out,” she muttered as she peeked at the house from under the cap while pretending to check the fishing line.
Luckily, the man who had just descended the porch stairs seemed unaware of her presence as he performed a couple of stretches. His movements were unhurried, as if he was completely at ease, before setting off on a run.
Vanya watched him intently while she held her breath in suspense. With a sigh of relief, she finally exhaled. Her gaze remained fixed on his long, purposeful strides as he began to jog along the path that led away from the lakefront.
There was no doubt in her mind—it was Andrei Smirnoff. She would recognize his easy, confident gait and that striking physique from afar. The leather mask that concealed the left side of his face appeared stark black over the distance. It had become an unmistakable signature… like his dark heart.
While keeping watch on the diminishing figure, Vanya slid the oars into the water and began to pull.
The placid rural atmosphere belied the tumultuous feelings that came into sharp relief.
Breathe.
As each stroke of the oars pulled her closer, she couldn't shake the feeling of a predator closing in on its prey.
“Just row. Just fucking row!”
Vanya’s gaze darted constantly between the house and the path on which Andrei had disappeared.
The two-week stint in rehab had physically weakened her but not her newly reacquired resolve. With steely willpower, she tapped into a reserve of strength and pushed through the painful burn of lactic acid that inflamed her core.
“I must hurry. I have no idea how long he’s gonna be,” she mumbled as she reached the shore. “Blyad’, the past two weeks have turned me into a weakling,” she wheezed.
With her heart pounding, she scrambled over the gunwales and dragged the skiff into a seclusion of Horsetail reeds at the edge of the lake.
Satisfied that the boat was hidden, she quickly scanned the path, then darted toward the house. The surroundings seemed to close in on her as the tall trees and thick underbrush amplified the anxiety of being caught. Resolutely, she ignored the tension in the air and followed her gut instinct.
“Mom is in that house, I’m sure of it.”
She made her way through the trees while continuously glancing over her shoulder and checking the path Andrei had taken.
“So far so good.” Moving quickly, and with growing confidence, she approached the house.
“Destul!” She stopped to listen as the rustle of leaves startled her. “I’m not fucking scared of the prick,” she mumbled to give herself a boost of courage. “This is bullshit. You’ve got balls of steel, Vanya Guzun. Get your mind in the game!” She was determined to see this through, and although her emotions were still fragile after the grueling rehab stint, she refused to allow it to weaken her resolve.
Stepping onto the wraparound porch, she cautiously peeked through the windows. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
“Well, here goes nothing.” With her trusted K-bar in hand, she opened the front door and slipped inside. Unless she was faced with a life-and-death situation, she didn’t want to kill anyone here today—at least not until confirming her mother was there and what her condition was.
With skills honed by years in the field, she quickly cleared each room on the ground floor.
“Is there anyone here apart from you, Smirnoff?” she questioned in a hushed voice. Andrei wasn’t the type of man who would play nurse to a woman in a coma. Logic dictated that he had procured someone to take care of her mother. She refused to consider that her instinct was wrong and that Zafira might not be there. The words he had said that day at Club Extaz stopped her in her tracks at the landing of the stairs.
“She’s safe, and she’ll stay that way unless any of the Guzuns get in my way.”She could still feel how his gaze had seared her when he continued.“Especially her.”
