Page 80 of Triplet Babies
“Wait—” Alex raises his hands, desperation creeping into his voice for the first time since I’ve known him.
The gunshot is deafeningly loud in the enclosed space. He crumples to the floor, clutching his chest as blood spreads acrosshis black sweater in an expanding stain. He tries to speak, but only blood comes out of his mouth, dark and thick.
I watch him die with relief that the man who terrorized me is finally gone, and a tough of horror at witnessing such casual violence. Katya doesn’t even look at the body as Alex’s breathing becomes shallow and then stops entirely. She turns toward the door and calls out in the same tone she might use to summon a waiter, “We’re done here. Take her to the compound.”
Two men enter the room, both wearing expensive suits that suggest they’re more than simple hired muscle. They approach me with professional efficiency, one cutting my bonds while the other keeps watch for any signs of resistance. When they’re shifting me, I’m finally able to grasp the blade and remove it from my jacket.
As they help me to my feet, I slip the blade Nina gave me into my palm, concealing it as best I can. My wrists are raw and bleeding slightly from the rough rope, but my hands still work.
Katya watches the process with detached interest, like she’s overseeing the loading of cargo. “Be careful with her. She’s valuable.”
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Her smile is sharp and predatory, transforming her beautiful features into something vaguely reptilian. “Somewhere Yarik will never think to look, so we can have a proper conversation about your future, or lack thereof.”
As they escort me from the room, I catch a glimpse through the high window and realize we’re still in the warehouse district.Alex only moved me a few buildings away from where he first grabbed me. If Yarik is searching the area, he might still be close.
Katya clearly plans to take me somewhere else remote enough that any screams won’t be heard. I think about the blade hidden in my palm and the three lives inside me. Alex is dead, which eliminates one threat, but Katya represents something far more dangerous. She’s a woman with resources, connections, and a plan that apparently includes my death.
The cool night air hits my face as we step outside the warehouse, and I take what might be my last breath of freedom. Whatever Katya has planned for me, wherever she’s taking me, I have to find a way to survive it for my babies, the future I want to build, and the love I walked away from but still hope to reclaim.
I have to survive this.
26
Yarik
The drone footage streams across my phone screen in grainy black and white, showing the warehouse district from above like a tactical map. Valentin operates the controls with steady hands while I scan each building for any sign of movement or vehicles that shouldn’t be there. The device hovers silently above the industrial complex, its camera capturing details that would be impossible to see from ground level.
I point to a dark sedan parked behind a warehouse three buildings east of where we found Sarah’s phone. “There. Run the plates on that vehicle.”
Valentin adjusts the drone’s camera angle, zooming in on the license plate until the numbers become clear against the metal bumper. He relays them to our contact at the DMV, speaking in rapid Russian to ensure privacy, and within minutes, we have our answer.
He looks up from his phone, meeting my gaze with grim certainty. “The vehicle is registered to Roman Sokolov, which is the same alias we’ve been tracking in connection with the financial irregularities.”
The pieces click together in my mind with sudden, terrible clarity. Roman Sokolov, the man who approached me weeks ago wanting to do business in that neutral café with his practiced charm and barely concealed ambition, is also Alex, Sarah’s abusive ex-boyfriend, who terrorized her for years before she fled to Greenwich. He’s the same person, operating under multiple identities and using my organization to locate the woman he lost.
I check my weapon and signal to the twelve men positioned around us in strategic formation. “He’s been inside our network for months, but not to get to me. Sarah wasn’t a random target. This was always about getting her back, and he used me to find her.”
Valentin nods grimly as he pockets his phone and checks his own gear. “If Roman is Alex, he’s been using our business connections to track Sarah’s movements. He probably never cared about the financial operations. That was just his way of getting close to her.”
I start moving toward the target warehouse, my team falling into formation behind me. “Now he has the woman he’s been obsessing over, but that can’t stand.”
We approach the building, using shadows cast by abandoned vehicles and industrial equipment for cover. The warehouse sits in darkness except for a single light visible through a high window. No guards are posted outside, and I see no signs of movement in the surrounding area.
It’s too quiet, and too easy. Every instinct I have screams this is a setup. I signal Valentin to take four men around to the back entrance while I lead the frontal assault. If this is a trap, we’ll hit them from multiple directions and minimize their advantages. If Roman has prepared an ambush, we’ll turn his preparations against him.
The warehouse door stands slightly ajar, just like at the first location. I push it open slowly, weapon raised and scanning for threats in the dim interior. The unpleasant scent of blood and cordite hits me immediately. It’s recent and sharp, mixing with the industrial odors of rust and motor oil.
Inside, my boots echo against concrete as I move deeper into the space, each footstep announcing my presence despite my attempts at stealth. A single overhead light creates a maze of potential hiding spots. The metallic scent grows stronger as I approach a small office area built into one corner of the warehouse.
That’s where I find him.
Roman Sokolov lies on the floor in a pool of blood that’s still spreading slowly across the concrete, his chest torn open by what looks like a close-range gunshot. His face, now slack in death, is the same one as the man who sat across me from weeks ago, offering something that sounded too good to be true. He’s the scumbag who tried to negotiate a business partnership while trying to use me to hunt down the woman who escaped him.
I kneel beside the body, noting the single bullet wound and lack of any defensive injuries on his hands or arms. Someone he trusted shot him at close range, execution-style. I hope it was Sarah, but if it were, she’d likely still be here. With a grimace, I dip my pinkie into a splotch of blood, finding it’s still fresh andwarm, which means Sarah was here recently, but now she’s gone again. I wipe my finger on a clean spot on his sweater before standing.
Valentin appears from the back entrance, weapon drawn, his team spreading out to secure the perimeter of the warehouse. He takes in the scene with professional detachment, cataloging details that might prove important later, before meeting my gaze.
