Page 27 of Dark Promise

I glance at the window, my hand resting lightly on my gun. I killed three of Vasiliev’s men after the crash, but one got away. Reinforcements could already be in the area. They’ll want to finish what they started. And while I don’t fear them, I won’t take a single chance with Sabina’s life.

Leo’s voice echoes in my mind from our meeting two days ago, hard and reluctant as he finally agreed to my terms.

"You swear this isn’t another Ivanov ploy to take what doesn’t belong to you?"

"I swear," I’d replied, meeting his icy glare head-on. "I’ll protect her from this. Mikhail won’t touch her. On my honor."

I don’t know if Leo believed me—entirely. But he must’ve seen something in my eyes, enough to agree. Enough to let me head off Mikhail’s plan to kidnap her before it was too late.

He’d wanted to send his own men to protect his sister. But I’d pointed out that an all-out battle between Russos and Ivanovs outside our own territory, in New York, no less, wouldn’t just feed the brewing war between our families, but would drag the New York syndicates into the mess. Whereas one man—me—foiling my father’s plan would draw little attention, if any.

“We’re already enmeshed in a battle with Chicago, thanks to their efforts to encroach on our territory. We don’t need to split our manpower further,” I’d argued.

And in the end, he’d agreed.

The wind bites as I step outside into the snow. The cabin is quiet, the woods around it eerily still, but stillness is a predator’s ally. I survey the perimeter and move to the edge of the tree line. The motion alarms are exactly where I remember them—small, inconspicuous devices mounted on the trees. Uncle Vlasta had them installed years ago, back when this cabin was part of a larger network of safe houses. I can almost hear his voice as I inspect the first one:Always expect a threat, even when you don’t see it coming.

Why didn’t he expect the threat that ultimately killed him? Why didn’t he see my father for the snake he is? The snake who poisoned him.

I push thoughts of my father’s betrayal from my mind and focus on the moment, focus on keeping Sabina safe.

The devices look intact. I flick the tiny switches at their bases, one by one, reactivating the dormant system. A faint hum confirms the sensors are back online, an invisible web now stretching through the woods. If anyone tries to get close, these alarms will pick up their movement, giving us at least some warning.

Satisfied, I head back to the cabin, my boots crunching through the snow. Inside, Sabina sleeps in the chair by the fire, the golden light catching on her dark hair. Her skin is flushed from the warmth. She’s unzipped that ridiculous oversized coat, unbuttoned the coat she has on beneath it. Her black turtleneck hugs her body, clinging to her breasts.

She’s in this because of me. I promised myself I’d never put her at risk, and yet here she is, caught in a game she didn’t ask to play. Her bruises are a reminder of my failure. I’d seen the blood on her temple, the strain in her steps.

It had taken everything in me not to grab her and carry her the rest of the way to the cabin—a gesture she would see as an unforgivable indignity, her pride bruised more than her body. Sabina Russo isn’t the kind of woman you simply haul around like a possession; she’s fire, independence, and sharp edges all rolled into one.

But there was a time she let me carry her. At the party, when she thought I was just some masked stranger in a Batman costume. For a short time that night, she hadn’t been Sabina Russo, heir to the Russo empire, untouchable and fiercely guarded. She was just a woman, open and honest. A memory I’ve thought about far more than I should.

She stirs slightly, her lips parting in some half-dreamed protest, and I find myself rooted to the spot, watching her.

She has no idea, not yet, what she means to the future I’m trying to build.

My jaw tightens as I think of my father. He’s squandering everything my uncle Vlasta built—the alliances, the order, the empire that took decades to create. Vlasta was a man of vision, a man I respected more than anyone. A man I loved like a father. Where my father rules with chaos and bloodlust, Vlasta commanded loyalty through strategy and strength. Watching Mikhail destroy that legacy makes my blood boil.

I want to salvage it, to take back the Ivanov name and restore it to what it once was. But the men who once followed my uncle are splintering, some too afraid of my father’s wrath, others quietly waiting for a better option. They don’t trust him—and they shouldn’t.

Mikhail had Vlasta killed. I’d found the trail of bank transfers routed through offshore accounts to a black-market dealer specializing in untraceable poisons. The original autopsy report, buried beneath falsified records, clearly identifying traces of aconitine in Vlasta’s blood.

Leo Russo had provided the final nail: a sworn statement from a terrified courier who had delivered the poison directly to Vlasta’s home under Mikhail’s orders. Each piece fit together seamlessly, painting a picture of betrayal so sharp it cut through any lingering doubt. Mikhail had murdered Vlasta, and now it was only a matter of time before that truth became his undoing.

I will bring the men back under control. I will not let everything Vlasta built collapse.

And then there’s Sabina. She complicates everything.

Or maybe she simplifies it.

Because when I look at her, I don’t see a truce or an alliance. I don’t see a strategic move. I seeher. The fire, the fury, the defiance. The woman who kissed me back with enough passion to sear herself into my mind forever.

I move to the fire, crouching to add another log. My movements are careful, measured. Sabina needs me to be in control, to be sharp, not lost in my own emotions.

But it’s hard to stay sharp when the sight of her makes me burn.

Her legs are curled under her, pale and bare beneath the coat, and all I can think about is how they would feel wrapped around me. Her lips are slightly parted in sleep, and my chest tightens with the memory of how they felt against mine, soft butdemanding, the perfect mix of ice and fire. My fingers ache to trace her skin, to undo the layers she wraps herself in and lay her bare, make her mine in every way that matters.

It’s a dangerous thought—one I can’t afford right now. But I’m only a man, and Sabina is the kind of temptation that can bring any man to his knees.

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