Page 48 of Triplet Babies
I lean back in the passenger seat, pain from the cut mixing with a cold fury that settles deep in my bones. The Nikitins think they can manipulate me, threaten me, and use the unwanted engagement as a weapon against me. They think I’m the same man who agreed to their alliance months ago, the one willing to play their political games for the sake of peace.
They have no idea what they’ve unleashed.
I’ve spent years building walls, maintaining control, and playing their games because patience kept me alive and being careful protected what I had worth protecting. I’ve been diplomatic because diplomacy served my interests. I’ve been restrained because restraint was smart business.
Now, something matters more than all of that.
The men who attacked us today are dead, but whoever sent them isn’t. Whoever ordered this thinks I’m weak, can be intimidated, and won’t retaliate for fear of losing their precious alliance.
They’re wrong.
I close my eyes and let the rage wash over me, cold and clean and absolutely certain. I know who did this, and I’ll show them exactly what happens when you come for me or endanger Sarah.
The world can burn, and I’m ready to light the match.
15
Sarah
The drive back to the estate passes in silence, though the air between us crackles with electric tension. My hands still shake from tending Yarik’s wound, from watching him kill two men without hesitation, and from seeing how close I came to losing him before I even understood what he meant to me.
I park in the staff lot like always, though when I move to get out, Yarik catches my wrist.
“Stay with me tonight.”
The words are quiet, not quite a request and not quite a demand either. I look at him, noting the way his shirt is still stained with blood, the careful way he holds his injured side, and the intensity in his blue eyes that hasn’t faded since the warehouse.
“Yarik...”
He traces his thumb across my pulse point. “I need to know you’re safe.”
I should say no. I should go home to Nina, process what happened, and maintain the professional distance I’ve been clinging to since the engagement party. Instead, I nod. “Okay.”
Relief crosses his features. We enter through the side entrance, and he leads me through corridors I’ve never seen before, past paintings that are surely originals and furniture that looks like museum pieces. His private suite is on the third floor, accessible by a narrow staircase that ensures complete privacy.
Once inside, he moves to the fireplace and starts a fire while I stand near the windows, suddenly uncertain. The adrenaline from the warehouse is fading, leaving me hyperaware of where I am and what staying here means.
“You should shower first,” he says, gesturing toward an open doorway. “Wash away what happened today.”
I nod, grateful for the suggestion. The bathroom is larger than my entire bedroom at home, all marble and glass with a shower that looks like something from a luxury hotel. He provides me with towels and a silk robe that’s far too big, though it feels like heaven against my skin.
When I emerge twenty minutes later, he’s clearly had a shower too, perhaps in a guest room, and has changed into dark pajama pants and nothing else. The bandage on his ribs is fresh and clean, and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking lost in thought.
“Better?” he asks.
“Much.” I move closer, noting the exhaustion in his face. “How’s your side?”
“It’ll heal.” He reaches for my hand and pulls me to sit beside him. “Thank you for what you did today. I appreciate you staying calm and taking care of me.”
“I’ve had practice.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and his expression darkens. “Your ex.”
I nod, not trusting my voice. We’ve touched on Alex before, and the reality of what that relationship was like sits between us now like a living thing.
“Tell me about him.” His voice is steady, but I see the tension in his muscular shoulders.
“What do you want to know?”
