Page 4 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

Mikhail didn’t flinch. “I did what I thought was right.”

“There is no right in this world, Mikhail. There is only power. Control. You let her live, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Mikhail’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew there was no point. He had crossed a line, and he knew the consequences.

I stood slowly, the tension in the air thick and suffocating. “You’re going to bring her back,” I said, my voice sharp, final. “You’re going to fly to her, and you’re going to bring her to me yourself. Now.”

Mikhail hesitated for the briefest of moments, but then he nodded. “I’ll bring her back.”

“And, Mikhail,” I added, my voice dark with warning. “If you defy me again, if you keep anything else from me, I will kill you. Understood?”

He nodded again, his face pale, but resolute. “Understood.”

I watched as he stood, the weight of his betrayal still hanging heavy between us. He turned and walked out of the bar, disappearing into the cold Moscow night.

I remained standing, staring into the flames of the fireplace, my mind racing. Anna was the key. Rossi’s heir. The one loose end that Mikhail had failed to tie up. She was alive, and now she would be mine. I would use her to take control of everything Rossi had left behind. His assets, his businesses, his power.

But as I stood there, a new thought crept into my mind.

Why had Mikhail spared her? Why had he kept her hidden for so long? And why, after all these years, did I find myself curious about her?

It didn’t matter. Curiosity was a weakness, and I had no use for weakness. Anna was a tool, nothing more. A means to an end.

She was coming back to me. And when she did, I would get what I needed from her.

Or I would kill her.

CHAPTER 3

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the wooden floor. I loved mornings here, in the quiet countryside. It was so different from the chaos I remembered. The world outside my window was peaceful, almost idyllic. It had been my sanctuary, this small village in Russia, far from the life I had once known.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun on my skin calm the small knot of anxiety that always seemed to live in the pit of my stomach. This was my routine—wake up, remind myself I was safe, and push the memories as far down as they would go. Smile. Be bright. Be kind. Move forward.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the shadows of my past. I could still see him. Maxim Ivanov. Cold, ruthless, like a dark force of nature that had blown into my life and left destruction in his wake. I still remembered the sound of his gun going off, the way Rossi had fallen to the ground in front of me, lifeless.

I hadn’t known who Rossi really was back then. I hadn’t realized the man who had allowed me to stay in his mansion after my mother had died hadn’t been doing it out of kindness.Back in the day, I had thought it was compassion. Maybe gratitude for my mother’s years of service as his housemaid. I’d been naive. Maybe that was why everything hurt so much more—because I never saw it coming.

I thought I’d been safe.

I opened my eyes and forced a smile. It was what I did now—smiled, even when the memories threatened to pull me under. The Petrovs, the family that had taken me in after Mikhail had sent me here, didn’t know anything about the girl I used to be. To them, I was just Anna, the bubbly, bright girl they’d come to love. I made myself indispensable, worked hard on the farm, laughed easily, and always made sure to help others. It was who I needed to be now. This Anna was everything the old Anna hadn’t been. I liked her. She was stronger. She didn’t break.

But deep down, the truth was always there, whispering just beneath the surface.

I wasn’t okay.

It had been years since Mikhail had sent me here, away from New York, from that night. And yet, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t over. That something was coming. Sometimes I would catch myself staring at the horizon, wondering if Maxim knew. Wondering if he would come for me.

I didn’t know why, but part of me feared him… and part of me didn’t.

Because, for as much as I hated him for what he did, I couldn’t forget how he spoke about his sister that night. The pain in his voice, the way he talked about protecting her. That kind of love, that kind of fury, resonated with me in a way I didn’t want to admit. He had lost someone. I had lost someone. In that moment, when he had spoken of her, I had seen him as more than just a killer. I had seen him as a man who had been hurt beyond repair.

I didn’t want to feel anything for him. I didn’t want to be curious about the man who had turned my world upside down. But I was. And that scared me.

A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I frowned, glancing at the clock. It was early for visitors, and the Petrovs had gone into town for supplies. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I walked to the door and opened it.

Mikhail stood there, his tall frame shadowing the doorway, his expression unreadable. My heart dropped into my stomach, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His presence here, after all these years, could only mean one thing.

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