Page 194 of Nine Months to Love
He follows me to the car and we both get in. It’s stranger than fiction to have Iakov fucking Zakharov seated next to me as we go to rescue a woman who might’ve betrayed me to my own goddamn mother. My hands are quivering on the wheel as truth after truth surges through me, upending everything I once thought I knew. Iakov is my brother. My mother gave him up because my father forced her to. And now, she’s taken the woman I love because I tried to kill her.
This is all so fucked up. But I don’t have time to process it. I don’t have time to feel anything.
All I have time for is getting Olivia back.
I floor the accelerator and tear out of the parking lot. The city blurs past. My mind is blank except for one thought.
Hold on, Olivia.
I’m coming.
55
STEFAN
The farmhouse sits in a clearing surrounded by trees. I park far enough away to avoid detection for now, then kill the engine and get out of the car. Taras pulls up beside me in his jeep and joins Iakov and me. We stand there for a moment, three men staring through the trees at a house full of people who want us dead.
“This is insane,” Taras mutters.
I snort. “You have a better idea?”
“Yeah. We come back with more men. We plan this properly. We don’t just waltz empty-handed into a fucking ambush.”
“We don’t have time for that.”
Iakov steps forward, hands in his pockets, looking far too calm for what we’re about to do. “Stefan is right. If we wait, Natalia will know we’re coming. She’ll move Olivia somewhere else.”
“So what’s the plan?” Taras asks. “We just knock on the door and ask nicely?”
“Pretty much,” I say.
Taras looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
But I no longer fucking care.
I start walking toward the house. Iakov falls into step beside me. Taras swears under his breath, then follows.
The armed men notice us immediately. They raise their weapons, shouting warnings in Russian. I keep walking. I don’t slow down, don’t stop, don’t reach for my gun.
One of them steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Far enough.”
“I’m here to see Natalia.”
“She’s not seeing anyone.”
“She’ll see me.”
He doesn’t budge. I look past him at the house. The front door opens and Natalia steps out onto the porch.
She looks exactly the same as she did fifteen years ago. Same sharp cheekbones, same cold eyes, same air of superiority that makes my blood boil.
“Stefan!” she calls out. “What a surprise.”
I have no intention of wasting time on her bullshit. “I want Olivia.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Where is she?”
