Page 71 of Tattooed Heart

“Sandy,” he breathes, falling to his knees before me. His hands cup my face, brushing hair and blood away from my skin.

I can’t speak. My throat is raw with silent screams, my lips trembling.

He pulls me into his chest, wrapping himself around me like armor. “I've got you now. You're safe. Both of you.”

My arms cling to him with what strength I have left. I bury my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of sweat, gunpowder, and him. My protector. My damn fool of a man who charged into hell and won.

Dimitri murmurs into my hair, his hands skimming over me in a frantic search for injuries. I flinch when he reaches my side, pain flashing across my face. “The baby? Is the baby okay?”

I nod, still unable to form words. My body shakes uncontrollably, and the adrenaline crashes, hitting me hard.

“We need to move.” Aleksandr's voice cuts through the haze of my shock.

Dimitri nods, but his attention remains fixed on me. “Can you stand?”

I swallow hard, forcing my voice to work. “Yes.”

He helps me to my feet with gentle hands, keeping me tucked against his side as if afraid I might dissolve into mist if he lets go. My legs feel like rubber, threatening to give out with each step, but Dimitri's strength holds me upright.

“Stay close,” he instructs as we move toward the exit, his gun now held ready in his free hand.

The warehouse is a maze of corridors and rooms, each doorway a potential threat. Aleksandr takes point, with Viktor and Ivan flanking us. Lev brings up the rear, his vigilant eyes scanning constantly for danger.

“We cleared most of the building on our way in,” Dimitri explains softly as we move. “But there may be stragglers.”

A door bursts open ahead of us as if summoned by his words. A man with a scarred face emerges, weapon raised. Before he can fire, Aleksandr puts him down with two rapid shots.

I flinch but keep moving. This is Dimitri's world, and it has become my world since the moment I fell in love with him. Its brutality no longer shocks me as it once had.

We encounter two more of Morozov's men before reaching the exit. Both times, Dimitri's team eliminates the threat with ruthless efficiency. I try not to look at the bodies as we pass.

Finally, we emerge into the night air. I gulp it down greedily, realizing how stale and foul the air inside was. The sky above is clear, stars sprinkled across the velvet darkness like diamonds. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

Four black SUVs wait in the gravel lot, engines running. Dimitri guides me toward the second vehicle, his vigilance never faltering even as we approach safety.

“Perimeter secure,” Ivan reports, joining us at the car. “No signs of reinforcements.”

Dimitri nods once. “Good work.” To me, he says, “Let's get you home.”

Home.The word brings tears to my eyes. After almost two days in captivity, uncertain if I would ever see daylight again, the promise of returning to the mansion—to safety, to our life together—overwhelms me.

Dimitri helps me into the back of the SUV, climbing in beside me. His composure cracks the moment the door closes, sealing us in the quiet interior. Again he pulls me into his arms, burying his face in my hair.

“When they took you...” he mutters, his voice rough with emotion.

I press my palm against his cheek, feeling the stubble that has grown during my absence. “But you found me.”

His eyes, usually so guarded, are naked with vulnerability. “I would have torn the world apart to find you,malyshka.”

We don’t speak as the others approach the SUVs. Aleksandr issues orders, and Ivan and Viktor obey. But it is all background noise. None of it matters.

Only him. Only us.

The convoy pulls away from the warehouse, headlights cutting through the darkness. I nestle closer to Dimitri, craving his warmth and solidity after days of cold isolation. His arm tightens around me protectively.

“How did you find me?” I ask after several minutes of silence.

Dimitri's eyebrows snap together. “Elena… and a lot of digging for information.”

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