Page 49 of Dark Promise

“There’s always more with the Vasilievs. Always.”

Luca steps inside, his large frame filling the doorway. Snow clings to his dark hair and broad shoulders, and his expression is grim. His dark eyes scan the room quickly before landing on me.

“We’ve got to move,” he says. “Nikolai bought you a window, but it’s not going to last. If there’s one thing the Vasilievs do well, it’s send reinforcements.”

My chest tightens. Nikolai bought me a window? What does that even mean? My gaze flicks to the door as if I can see him through the wood, still standing out there, ready to take on the world for me. My heart pounds at the thought of him alone in the cold, facing God knows what.

Cassio’s hand on my arm pulls me back.

“Sabina,” he says, his tone softer now, but no less urgent. “Listen to me. We need to go. Now.”

I nod mechanically, but my feet don’t move. My body feels disconnected, like it’s resisting the very idea of leaving this cabin, leaving him.

Then I stare at my brother, confused as to how he even ended up here.

“How did you find me? How did you even know to come looking for me?” I ask, the words spilling out in a rush. My voice is too loud, too raw, and it draws both Cassio’s and Luca’s attention.

Cassio exhales sharply, like he’s been bracing for these questions. He sets the coat down on the table and leans against it, pinning me with his gaze. Then he exchanges a look with Luca, who shrugs like it’s not his story to tell. Cassio turns back to me, his expression unreadable.

“When Nikolai heard about his father’s plan to kidnap you, he went straight to Leo. Said he’d keep you safe if we worked together.”

My brows knit. “Worked together? What are you talking about? Why would Leo trust Nikolai to keep me safe?”

Cassio leans in, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves could betray us. “Leo and Nikolai had a deal, Sabina. Mikhail wanted to use you to bait Leo, to lure him out. Nikolai wasn’t having it. He stepped in, volunteered to protect you.”

“Why wouldn’t Leo send you or Dante or Damian? This doesn’t make sense,” I say, looking back and forth between Cassio and Luca.

“Because having Russos attack Ivanovs in New York, a territory that belongs to neither of us, could create a lot of issues for both families. But an Ivanov attacking Ivanovs wouldn’t even cause a ripple,” Luca says.

“Oh, I get it now,” I say, trying to mask the waver in my voice. “Family murder is just considered good housekeeping. Thanks for clearing that up.”

Cassio leans down and bumps my shoulder with his. “Ivanov is buying us some time, Sabina. Let’s not waste it. Where’s your coat?”

I don’t want to leave Nikolai here alone to face whatever comes. But I have lived in this world my whole life, and I know that sometimes, retreat is a necessity in order to be able to fight another day. I nod numbly and peel off Cassio’s coat, holding it out to him. My movements feel robotic, like my body is acting on instinct while my mind spins in a thousand different directions. Every step feels heavier than the last, like I’m walking through quicksand.

Cassio’s voice pulls me back. “Sabina, listen. Whatever’s happened here—whatever you feel—it doesn’t change what he is. What his family is. The Ivanovs and the Russos…we don’t mix. We can’t.”

My brother is too perceptive for his own good.

I turn and meet his gaze, lifting my chin. “Nothing happened here.”

Cassio nods, looking relieved. “Good.”

Luca stays by the door, keeping watch, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. I drag on the makeshift boots Nikolai made for me and push my arms into the oversized coat I wore when weplayed in the snow. Then I turn to my brother, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead.

“Let’s move,” Cassio says, taking my arm and gently but firmly steering me toward the door.

The cold hits me like a slap the moment I step outside. The snow is relentless, swirling around us in chaotic flurries. The clearing is eerily quiet, the bodies of the Vasiliev men already covered in a thin layer of snow. The chaos from earlier feels like a distant memory, erased by the unfeeling hand of nature.

And then I see him.

Nikolai stands near the tree line, his back to us, his posture rigid. His gun hangs loosely at his side, but his presence is still commanding, still larger than life. He doesn’t turn as we step out, doesn’t acknowledge us.

My feet falter, but Cassio’s hand on my back keeps me moving.

“Eyes ahead, Sabina,” he murmurs. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

But I can’t. I can’t leave like this, without something—anything—to make this feel less like an ending.

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