Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He holds it up, grim. “Rafail.”
It’s Ruthie.
She’s sobbing.
Her voice is cracked, broken glass. “At the bar, Rafail.” She gasps. “Tell me you have him. Tell me he’s with you.”
Rafail locks eyes with me, his face stone. “Who, Ruthie?” he asks, voice like a blade.
“Vadka.” Her voice cracks. “Tell me you have him.”
“I’m here, baby,” I say, my voice loud and raw. “I’m right here.” I don’t care who hears me. “I’m here. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” she breathes out. “But… oh, Vadka. Where is everybody?”
“We’re all here, Ruthie,” I say. “Every one of us. We’re safe. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I’m okay. What happened?”
“Listen, baby, we don’t know what happened yet,” I say out loud so she can hear me.
We’re going back to the house.
We’re questioning Zoya.
“I’ll question Zoya,” Rafail says, his voice cold steel. He’s always had a soft spot for her—she’s like a little sister to all of us—but now…
He waits.
“No answer?”
“Back to the house,” Rafail barks. “Bring your women. Now.”
He turns to Matvei. His expression is grave. “Check in, see what you can find on surveillance. I’ll do the same. We meet back here. Clear?”
Matvei nods. “Yes, sir.”
And I echo him silently. Because Rafail has spoken.
And when he speaks—it’s law.
Chapter 27
RUTHIE
Vadka is safe. And so is Luka.
The room’s too quiet. Too still. The kind of silence that screams.
Vadka finds me, and the moment he does, he wraps his arms around me like I might disappear. I collapse into him, pressing my cheek against his chest. There’s a steadiness there, a certainty—his body is warm and solid, his breath slow and even. My fingers trail across the worn leather of his jacket, then up to his jaw. He smells like cold air, burnt metal, and the lingering echo of gunpowder.
He’s here. He’s safe. But he’s not okay. I can feel it in the way he holds me. The tension in his shoulders. The quiet concern in his eyes.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask softly, pulling back just enough to see his face. “What happened? Why? I-I don’t even know what I want you to answer first.”
He doesn’t speak right away. His jaw tightens before he finally says, “Have you seen Zoya?”
That catches me off guard. “No… I assumed she was here. She’s not?”
He exhales, a breath that sounds too heavy for his lungs. “Her tracker says she is,” he says, giving me a sad smile. “But she’s nowhere to be found.”
“Oh no… Is she okay? Did somebody—”
“We believe she’s okay,” he interrupts, his voice low, but there’s no certainty there. “That call she made to me? She made it to all of us—all her brothers. We all showed up expecting… devastation. But all we found was silence.”
“What? Why?” I whisper.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he murmurs. “Why. And the short answer is… we don’t know.”
None of us does.
“We need to find her,” I say, my heart thudding. “Rafail must be losing his fucking mind.”
“He is,” Vadka replies, almost too quietly.
“I’m not even one of you guys, and I would be too,” I admit.
“For now,” he says, pulling back just enough to start stripping out of his clothes, “we need sleep. There’s nothing more we can do tonight.” He presses a kiss to my temple, soft, sorrowful.
Will it always be like this? Walking the edge between life and death, grief and survival, love and devastation. Fear. Hope. Loss. Life. The edges blur.
I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But I wake again. And again. Each time with that same weight pressing down. Finally, I can’t take it anymore—I push myself out of bed. Vadka’s still asleep, fully clothed, softly snoring. He looks exhausted. My heart aches for him. I want to curl back beside him, but nausea wins.
I use the bathroom, splash water on my face, and check my phone. Google says I need protein. Fine. I quietly head downstairs. The house is quiet and somber. Still.
In the kitchen, I find a wedge of cheese and some crackers. The salty crackers settle my stomach. I’m just starting to feel human again when I hear footsteps behind me. I tense. Guards are stationed at the doors, and cameras monitor every angle—so I don’t know who to expect.
But I definitely don’t expect Zoya.
“Ruthie,” she says softly, her voice raw, her eyes troubled.
“Are you all right?”
I nod, but her voice wobbles when she responds, “I will be.”
“Sit,” she says. “Did you take that test?”
I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. Despite everything between us, despite the storm we’re all wading through, her being here feels like a breath of something good.
“I did…”
She reaches for me. “And?”
I nod, this time grinning. I don’t know how you’re supposed to tell people news like this. There’s no guidebook for what we are, for how we live. But yeah.
“Don’t tell the guys yet,” I say quickly. “They’ll go nuclear or something. But yeah… I’m having a baby. Vadka’s, obviously,” I add sheepishly.