Page 111 of Inked Athena

I know that look. I despise that look. I hoped to never see that look again.

“I got a report.” His voice is low, meant for my ears only. “We need to talk. Now.”

I rise. Nova glances up, her smile fading as she reads my expression. “I’ll be back in a moment,” I tell her. “Keep the fire going.”

I follow Myles into my study, leaving warmth and laughter behind. The moment the door closes, his shoulders square.

Bad news incoming. I find myself wishing I’d kissed Nova goodbye.

“Ilya’s gone.” Myles runs a hand over his buzzcut. “The safe house in Novosibirsk is empty. Clean as a fuckin’ whistle, man. Like he was never there.”

Ice surges through my veins. “How long?”

“Unknown. Our guy missed two check-ins. When the backup team arrived, they found him with his throat slit. Professional job.”

Fuck. My brother’s always been a snake, but this is different. This is calculated. Patient.

Not Ilya’s style at all.

I cross to the window. From here, I can see the north wing where our bedroom used to be. Where Nova spent those first weeks after I brought her here, scared and unsure. Before she made this drafty pile of stones into something worth protecting.

The muscles in my jaw ache from clenching my teeth. When I turn my head, I have a vantage into the library I just left. Through the window, I watch Nova lean closer to Hope, pointing at something in one of their books.

So innocent. So pure.

So fucking vulnerable.

“Triple the security detail,” I rumble to Myles, forcing my voice to stay measured. “I want four men on Nova at all times, rotating in six-hour shifts. Get Dmitri’s team down from Edinburgh. And contact our London crew—I need eyes on every property Ilya’s touched in the past five years.”

“Already started the calls.” Myles pulls out his phone, his fingers flying. “But Sam… this isn’t like him. Ilya’s always been ahothead. Leaving zero trace? Taking out our guy that cleanly? It’s?—”

“Like someone’s coaching him.” As always, Myles is thinking exactly what I’m thinking. “Someone patient. Someone who knows how to play the long game.”

“Someone like Katerina.”

I nod. “She’s had years to work on him. To channel all that raw hatred into something calculated. Looks like she did a good job.”

“Fuck.” Myles scrubs a hand over his face. “Want me to send the team in right now?”

“No. She’ll be expecting that.” I drum my fingers on the windowsill, mind racing through scenarios. “Focus on the places they wouldn’t think we’d look. Storage units. Dead drops. Those old shipping containers by the docks that the Andropovs think we don’t know about.”

Nova’s laugh drifts through the walls, and my chest constricts. Everything I love is right here in this castle.

Which makes it the perfect target.

“And Myles?” I turn from the window. “Not a word to Nova or the others. As far as they’re concerned, nothing’s changed.”

He nods grimly. “What about the FBI operative? Boyko—remember him? Could reach out?—”

“No. This stays in the family.”

After a moment of hesitation, he inclines his head. “As you wish,pakhan.”Then he turns to begin carrying out my orders.

I watch him go, already coordinating teams through his earpiece. The library’s warmth beckons, but I can’t face Nova right now. Not with murder on my mind.

My phone buzzes. It’s Viktor, forwarding the latest surveillance photos from that email trap Hope and Nova set, right on time with his regular daily submission.

I flick through the pictures. Katerina’s Aston Martin, parked outside a boutique hotel in Geneva. Her platinum hair gleaming as she kisses some oligarch on both cheeks. Her stilettos clicking across marble floors to the elevator.

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