Page 58 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
After that night, the attacks increased in frequency and in destruction.
The past two weeks had been hell. Jaroslav and I were constantly chasing shadows, trying to extinguish chaos that only kept multiplying—firebombings, sabotage, thefts. Whoever this enemy was, they were relentless, with no clear pattern. Every move was random, impossible to predict.
Timur’s team had been watching Artyom like a hawk. Nothing traced back to him. No moves, no messages. Which only made everything worse. At least if it were Artyom, we’d know how and where to strike back.
We doubled the security at every business, reinforced the Hearth and added ten more men to the mansion.
With the world on fire around me, having Katya in my home felt like the one thing anchoring me. With her near, I could face anything.
Every morning, she was there. Breakfasts shared over quiet conversation. Dinners where we laughed until my sides hurt. One night, I left her flowers and a gold bracelet next to a basket of her favorite chocolates. Another, we watched someridiculous romantic comedy in her room until she fell asleep against me. I put her to bed and climbed in with her, and she automatically found me and clung to me.
There were times she asked about seeing her family, hope in her eyes, a softness in her voice that made it hard to say no. But I always told her the same thing: with everything going on in the faction, now wasn’t a good time. What I didn’t tell her was that the thought of her walking into Artyom’s world again made my gut twist in ways I didn’t want to admit.
And somewhere in between, I stopped pretending I didn’t look forward to those moments with her. I felt something for Katya. Maybe not love, at least not yet, but whatever it was, I was done fighting it.
Earlier that afternoon, we’d gotten word about another attack before it went down. We thought we had time. We thought we could stop it. But everything went horribly wrong. Three of our men didn’t make it out.
I was barely holding back my rage when I stepped through the front door, and I headed straight for the office. It was already past midnight. I figured Katya was asleep by now.
Still, part of me wanted to see her. Touch her. Breathe her in just to feel something other than the rage that strained against my veins.
But first, I needed to calm down. I paced the office, fists clenched, my mind spinning, until a knock at the door interrupted me. I didn't even wonder who would be knocking at this hour; I just answered.
“Come in,” I barked.
Katya stepped inside, holding a tray.
“I thought you might be hungry. Since you missed dinner,” she smiled.
I just looked at her, caught off guard by the simple kindness. I’d spent my whole life taking care of others, leading, protecting, making sure everyone had what they needed. It hit me then, that no one had ever really taken care of me since I was a child. But this…this small, quiet gesture from Katya, it moved me.
Katya shifted under my gaze, her smile fading.
“I’m sorry. You’re probably busy. Maybe you already ate,” she added quickly, turning to leave.
I crossed the room in a few strides. “Katya.”
She paused. I gently took the tray from her hands and set it down on the side table. Then I kissed her softly.
“Thank you,” I said.
Still holding her hand, I led her to the couch.
“How was your day?” I asked.
Her gaze dropped to her lap. She hesitated, then bit her lower lip. Something was bothering her.
I tilted her chin up with one finger. “Katya. Talk to me.”
“Kira reached out to me today…”
My brow arched. “What did she want?”
“The same thing I want. Another meeting. I want to see my siblings, Lev. I want a relationship with them.”
I sighed. “Katya…it’s not the right time.”
Her eyes flashed. “So when will be the right time? If you're worried about what happened at the house, I’ll talkto Artyom. We can meet somewhere neutral. A public place, even…”
