Page 20 of His Order

That thing between us earlier—it doesn’t mean anything. I have to keep reminding myself of this truth. I can’t allow emotions to rattle me the way that they have been. I need to stay the course and keep the focus.

Mikhail’s already at the front, leaning against the reinforced door like he’s been waiting. He’s smoking. Of course, he is. As I approach, he glances over, one brow raised.

“Before you try to yell at me, I need you to save your breath. I am tired, and I get it. You like her.”

I don’t slow my stride. “Shut up.”

He huffs out a low laugh, flicks the cigarette to the ground, and follows me in.

“She just gets under my skin sometimes—this girl of yours,” Mikhail says once we’re inside. “There is something about her that unnerves me as I have never been unnerved before.”

I stop, just for a second. I watch his face for a moment. I see it in his eyes. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I know that this woman does have him frazzled in ways I have never seen him be frazzled before.

Then I keep walking.

We reach the inner hallway, steel doors lining both sides. I stop in front of the weapons room and finally turn to face him.

“Well, I left her asleep. She will wake up to work on the encryption,” I say. “She’ll break his encryption in the next few hours, if not tomorrow. She had already done most of the work before I took her.”

“You trust her to do it?” he asks. The words aren’t sarcastic—but they’re not neutral, either.

“I don’t trust anyone. But she’s motivated. And grief is a hell of a motivator.”

He studies me for a beat too long. “She also has you acting out of sorts.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

Instead, I step in closer and drop my voice until it cuts like ice.

“Why do you not like her so much?”

He doesn’t blink. But his mouth tightens. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” I add, leaning just slightly forward. “You want her. Maybe not like I do. Maybe not with the same… poison in your veins. But it’s there.”

He exhales slowly. “She’s not yours, Pavel. Not really.”

“She’s mine as long as I say she is,” I say it calmly.

I see the flicker in his eyes. I know that he is only looking out for my best interest, but I know what I’m doing. I don’t need anyone interrupting what she and I have—they wouldn’t understand anyway.

“Go check in on her,” I say, stepping back. “Make sure she doesn’t burn the place down.”

Mikhail nods once, jaw still tight, and turns toward the exit. I watch him leave. I push the door to the war room open, and I see the large table that is meant to fit at least 15 essential personnel.

Roman hunched over the table, tracing his finger along the edges of a city map covered in red ink and bloodstains—old and new. Victor leans against the wall with his arms crossed, a fresh scar above his brow from the last shipment that didn’t go quietly.

“Three ports under Dmitri’s control,” Roman says without looking up. “But two of the customs agents are on our payroll now. If we hit them from the north and cut off his shipments, the others will start asking questions.”

Victor grunts in agreement. “You want to get him; you start with his pockets. The street crews will fold once the money dries up.”

“Then we move on to his lieutenants,” I say, stepping closer. “Not with bullets. With leverage. We peel them away one by one until he’s left surrounded by ghosts.”

They nod. No one questions the plan. This is why I knew I could trust them. They have been my most loyal men, and they have stood by me through the test of time.

We continue to strategize and catch each other up on our individual assignments. I am so lost in what I am doing that the buzzing of my phone jolts me back.

Mikhail.

I don’t usually answer mid-strategy. He knows that. This means that this call isn’t routine and that something is wrong.

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