Page 102 of 10 Days to Surrender

“Two weeks,” I say finally. “Not a day more. And I want daily reports on every movement Dragan makes.”

Kosti nods, satisfied. But I notice he doesn’t quite meet my eyes.

A muffled cry pierces the night. My body moves before my brain can catch up.Ariel. Moaning in fear.

I’m halfway out of my chair when Feliks’s hand catches my wrist. “Boss.” His voice is gentle but firm. “We need to finish this.”

The maps spread across the table swim in my vision. Territory lines blur into meaningless shapes as another whimper filters through the ceiling. I know these nightmares. I’ve held her through enough of them to recognize the cadence of her fear.

My shoulder throbs as I force myself to sit back down. The bullet wound seems to pulse in time with her distress.

Feliks watches me with too much understanding in his eyes. He’s seen me gut men without flinching, seen me take bullets without breaking stride. But this—this helpless tension as I listen to Ariel struggle alone—is this what finally breaks me?

“She’ll be fine,” he says quietly. “The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can go to her.”

I grunt in acknowledgment, but my eyes keep drifting to the ceiling. Each sound is like a hook in my chest, pulling me in two directions at once. When did I become this man? This person who can be unmade by a woman’s nightmare?

“Focus,” I growl, more to myself than the others. But even as I bend over the maps again, my ears strain for any sign that her dreams have eased.Just a little longer,I promise silently.Hold on,ptichka. I’ll be there soon.

We talk strategy, trying to find a way to break down Serbian defenses and reclaim the key patches of the city. Eventually, the others shuffle out, their footsteps heavy with the weight of everything we’ve discussed. Only Feliks remains.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he says as he gathers the surveillance photos into a neat stack.

“Which one?”

“About being ready.” He taps the stack of photos against the table, squaring the edges. “And I don’t mean physically.”

I scowl at him. “Did I wander into a confessional booth by mistake?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I’ve known you since we were kids smashing windows in Moscow. I’ve seen you make impossible choices. But this…” He gestures vaguely upward, toward Ariel. “This is different.”

“How?”

“Because for the first time in your life, you actually have something to lose.” His voice drops lower. “Something that matters more than power.”

I want to deny it. Want to tell him that nothing matters more than maintaining control, that love is still the weakness I’ve always believed it to be.

But the words stick in my throat. I know they’re untrue. He does, too.

Feliks watches my internal struggle with knowing eyes. “Just… think about it, okay? Really think about what you’re willing to sacrifice. Because once we start this, there’s no going back.”

He leaves before I can respond. Maybe that’s for the best—I’m not sure what the fuck I would say anyway.

I sit in the dark kitchen for a long time, surrounded by maps of a kingdom I may have to choose between keeping or deserving. When I finally go upstairs, moonlight catches a pair of openeyes, glowing like silver coins. Ariel doesn’t ask where I’ve been or what kept me. She doesn’t need to.

The mattress dips as I slide in beside her. Her body instinctively curves toward mine. My hand finds its home on her hip.

“Whatever you’re planning…” she whispers into the darkness, her voice barely a breath, “just come back to us.”

I pull her closer and inhale her scent. She trusts me to return. After everything, she still believes I’ll choose her—choose us —over the darkness that’s always defined me.

I press my lips to her temple and make a silent vow to prove her right.

39

ARIEL

No one told me the third trimester came with superpowers.

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