Page 60 of Rafi

“I have my ways,malysh,” Igor replies smoothly, his smirk deepening. He raises his hand again, fingers poised to touch her once more.

“Get your fucking filthy hands off her!” I snap, my voice a feral scream as I step in front of Tayana, planting myself between her and Igor. My blood roars in my ears, fury coursing through me like fire.

Igor’s eyes flick to me, surprise momentarily flickering in their depths before his smirk returns. He tilts his head, studying me as though I’m an intriguing puzzle he hadn’t anticipated. “Ah,” he says with a condescending chuckle, “so protective. How…how do you say…charming.”

I don’t back down, my fists clenching at my sides. My body vibrates with the need to do something—anything—but I know charging him now would be a death sentence. He has the numbers, the power, and the advantage. Still, I can’t let him touch her again. I won’t.

Behind me, Tayana’s breaths are shallow, uneven, each one a battle against the fear clawing at her throat. I feel her trembling, and it only fuels my rage. Igor Aslanov doesn’t get to win. Not tonight.

Daniel’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. “Enough of this posturing,” he says, his tone sharp and commanding. “Shall we get to the matter at hand, or do you need a moment to work out your… family drama?”

Igor's smirk widens, sharp and deliberate, as he steps back with an air of control that grates against every nerve in my body. His gaze lingers on Tayana, slow and calculating, like he’s savoring the moment. It makes my skin crawl. Finally, he turns to Daniel, his voice smooth and unhurried. “Patience, myfriend,” he says, the words dripping with a promise that makes my stomach twist. “We have all night.”

The casual arrogance in his tone is like a slap, but I force myself to stay still, to let them think they hold all the cards. My gut churns with unease, but then it clicks into something steadier, sharper.

They’re too at ease. Too comfortable. Standing there, posturing like they’ve already won. They’re taking their time, and that tells me everything I need to know. They don’t realize what’s coming for them.

They have no clue another unit is primed to breach the compound, no idea that their perfect little trap is about to implode.

I glance at Lucky, who’s practically vibrating with restrained fury, and catch the flicker of a shared understanding. Igor and Daniel are walking a razor-thin edge, and they don’t even know it yet. The thought steels me, the simmering rage in my chest hardening into resolve.

They think they’ve already won, but they’re dead wrong. Their world is about to burn, and we’re the ones who’ll set it alight.

I can’t believe it.

I’ve underestimated her.

I don’t think I’ve ever made a bigger mistake. As I stand here, watching her stand tall in the face of Igor and his twisted game, it’s like everything inside me shifts. I swear to myself that if I make it out of here, I’ll never underestimate Tayana Kamarov again.

She’s staring down Igor like she’s not even phased. She’s standing there, poised and calm, like the very thing that should be breaking her is nothing more than a bad memory. Her chin’s lifted, her eyes steady, not a single tremor in her stance, despite everything—the threat, the danger, the menacing predator closing in. She’s the last person I’d expect to be this composed. Yet here she is, an immovable rock amidst the storm.

And that’s when it hits me: the way she stands here, facing down Igor, not a shred of fear in her eyes—it’s like she’s already won.

I want to rip my own hair out in frustration. This woman, this badass, is playing a game I can’t even begin to understand.

Igor might think he’s the one in control, but that’s the thing. He doesn’t realize who’s actually holding the reins.

Tayana’s calm is unnerving. She’s in the lion’s den, and she’snotafraid. She’s calculated, moving through each word, each look with deliberate precision, like she’s pushing all the right buttons at just the right moment.

I watch as she steps closer to Igor, her movements slow and measured. Igor’s smug grin doesn’t falter, but something flickers in his eyes. He’s underestimated her too, and it’s going to cost him.

“You’ve spent all these years trying to find me. Isn’t it about time you told me why?” Tayana asks, her voice soft, almost conversational. It should have been a death sentence, but she says it with such quiet authority that it stops him in his tracks.

Igor’s hand freezes mid-air, just before he touches her cheek again. He looks at her like she’s a china doll, a fragile doll he can’t bear to part with. She’s using the very thing he wants to dominate—her vulnerability—and turning it into her strength. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and damn, I don’t know if I’m impressed or terrified.

“You look so much like her,malysh,” he murmurs, and I catch the slight shift in her expression—a fleeting tremor, almost imperceptible. Her eyes harden for a moment, and it’s like a shield slams down in front of her. But just as quickly as the flicker of vulnerability appears, she steadies herself, her composure returning with practiced ease.

I watch them closely, the tension between them thick in the air. It's like watching two sides of a coin—opposite, yet inextricably linked. Heads and tails. Right and wrong. Light and dark. They are the obverse of each other, each defining the other in ways I can’t quite comprehend.

“Do I?” she responds, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She’s pushing all the right buttons, and Igor’s growing impatience is visible in the tightening of his jaw, the way his fingers twitch, ready to snap. But instead, he watches her, his eyes narrowed, studying her with the intensity of a predator circling its prey.

“Why did my father send you away?” she asks, stepping closer to him. There’s no hesitation. No fear. Just her standing face-to-face with a man who could end her life in a second, and she’sin controlof the moment. She holds his attention so fully it’s like she’s reeling him in, wrapping him up in a web he doesn’t even realize is being spun.

She goes in for the kill. “What did you do to make him so angry, hmmm?”

I see the shift in Igor’s demeanor. His grip on his own control is slipping. He’s frustrated, but more than that, he’s intrigued.

It’s a game of chess, and Tayana’s the queen, maneuvering each piece with such precision that I can’t help but be in awe of her.

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