Page 70 of Dark Embers

A bitter taste floods my mouth as I think back to the burner phone I found in Gavriil’s study. The messages between him and Tara, exchanged during the months she would’ve been pregnant—they weren’t just cryptic ramblings of lovers trying to play down what they were feeling. They were real. Meaningful and about how Tara was feeling—fuck Gavriil knew Tara was pregnant!It hits me like I’ve been struck by a bus.

I glance at Sabrina “Did my brother know?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “No. Tara ended things with him the week before she found out she was pregnant. She broke all contact with Gavriil after the pregnancy was confirmed.”

I don’t tell her about the messages. Not yet. The timing doesn’t feel right. There’s more I need to understand first.

“So Tara disappeared the morning Gavriil was killed?”

“Yes. That same day. I never heard from her again… until that night you came to my dressing room. She called me in a panic—from a phone booth in New York. She begged me to tellmy mom to call off the PI we hired. Said he wasn’t who we thought he was. Then I heard gunshots. Clyde’s voice yelling for her to run… she screamed he’d been shot right before the line went dead.”

I believe her.

The car sinks into silence, the hum of the tires the only sound as I try to process the storm of information.

“When we get home,” I say quietly, “I have something to show you.”

She turns toward me, brows pulled. “What?”

“Your sister and Gavriil were in contact the entire time she was pregnant.”

“No.” Her voice is sharp. “No, she told me they hadn’t spoken in months. Why would she lie about that?”

“I don’t know.” I exhale. “But she did. I have the burner phone Gavriil used to speak to her. I’ve had it on me since I found it.”

Sabrina’s voice falters. “Why would she lie? Tara never lies…”

“Unless it’s to protect someone,” I offer, and meet her eyes. “You lied. I’ve lied. Maybe she did too—for the same reason.”

She closes her eyes, the pain flickering across her face before she turns away from me.

“I’m sorry I kept Elena from you.”

“I get it,” I tell her. “But, Sabrina, if we’re going to survive this—whatever the hell this is—there can’t be any more secrets between us.”

She nods. “When we get home I have something I need to tell you too.”

Alarm twists in my gut over that statement but it fades as we turn into the driveway of my home, something shifts. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Something’s wrong.

The gates open like normal, the mansion is lit up in the darkness—but the silence is too heavy. Too unnatural.

I kill the engine, climb out the car, grab Elena’s car seat, and help Sabrina out. The second we step into the house, that feeling spikes. Like the air’s been sucked out of the room.

We make it halfway across the foyer when the windows shatter and the front door explodes inward. Men in tactical gear pour through the openings—Russian Special Forces, their insignia unmistakable.

“What the fuck?” Sabrina breathes.

I shove her behind me and tighten my grip on Elena’s seat.

Three men flank us, guns aimed and steady. I raise my free hand. “Easy,” I say, voice low and say to Sabrina. “Just do what they say.”

Sabrina grips my arm. “Who are they?”

“Special Forces,” I whisper. “Russian military.”

Where the fuck is my team?

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