I spare a quick glance at Gabriette, her profile illuminated by the dashboard lights. The way her hair tumbles down her shoulders, the hint of determination in her eyes; it’s maddeningly attractive.

And the fact that she’s the only one who can keep a level head in this chaos? Infuriatingly impressive. My wife is no fucking timid thing, that’s for sure.

“Does it matter?” I grunt in response, returning my attention to the pursuing SUVs. “Just keep driving like you stole it, and I’ll handle our unwanted guests.”

“Yes, sir, Mr Baranov,” she retorts and I swear my cock twitches. That damn mouth.

I let out a slew of Russian curses while returning gunfire, my thoughts going to who the fuck this is and my worry for Alexei’s wheezing. The exchange of bullets continues as Gabriette swerves through the city’s maze of streets.

The car is filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder, but Gabriette’s perfume adds a subtle, sweet undertone. The contrast between danger and her delicate scent is strangely exhilarating.

“They’re gaining on us, Mikhail,” she says, her voice tinged with urgency.

I glance at the SUVs in the rearview mirror, noting their increasing proximity. “Take the next left, and then head straight. Backup shouldn’t be too long now.”

As if to prove my point when we take a sharp left onto a familiar street, additional cars join us—reinforcements summoned by Ivan. They fall into formation, effectively sandwiching our car in the middle of a protective convoy.

Three SUVs still pursue us, but now they’re outgunned and outnumbered. A hailstorm of bullets from our backup cars peppers one of the pursuing vehicles, and I see it slow down, then veer off course, crashing into a lamppost.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it’s over. A black sedan appears from a connecting road, slamming into one of the SUVs and forcing it off the road. Another sedan joins the chase, and the last SUV is taken care of within seconds.

Only when I’m sure the threat is neutralized, do I finally turn my attention back to Gabriette. Her face is pale, eyes wide and pupils blown out with an emotion I can’t place.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice softer now, though still tinged with the adrenaline that courses through me.

She looks at me through the rearview mirror, her eyes searching mine for something, then she nods.

“Good, we’re clear. Stop the car and move to the back. I’ll get us home the rest of the way,” I say, feeling my body slowly unclench from its battle-ready stance.

MIKHAIL

When we pull into the underground garage of the penthouse, I can sense Gabriette’s tension, a palpable force field of anxiety.

“We’re here,” I say curtly, as I kill the engine and look over at Alexei before I exit the car. Weapon drawn, I scan the area then signal that it’s safe for her to get out.

She gets out, her body trembling as I pull her close and take out my phone to dial Viktor.

“The job’s done?” I ask without preamble.

“One survived,” Viktor responds. “He’s been restrained and is waiting for questioning.”

“Bring him,” I say and step toward the cars that have just pulled up. Gabriette seems almost in a daze, her eyes fixed on the weapon in my hand and the men getting out of the car.

My men quickly fan out, securing the perimeter, and I hear a voice over one of their radios confirming that they’re bringing the captive.

A couple of minutes later, two of my men arrive, dragging a bruised and bloodied man between them. His hands are bound, and he’s wearing a cock-sure look on his face that pisses me off.

He’s been disarmed, but his eyes shift warily, taking in his surroundings, settling on me and then flicking to Gabriette.

“Let’s get this over with,” I say, glaring at the captive. “Who sent—”

But before I can complete that sentence, Gabriette lunges at him, her palm landing with a sharp crack against his already battered face.

“Bastardo!” she says, then continues to curse him in Italian, her words seething with anger and we all stare at her for a few seconds before I snap out of my appreciation.

I move swiftly, my arms wrapping around her, pulling her back gently. I cup her face in my hand and she looks up at me, her eyes wide and filled to the brim with anger.

“Let me handle him,Malyshka,” I say, my voice low and reassuring against the storm of her rage as I pull her close to me. “This is what I’m here for.”