Chapter 154 Nikolai
The bullet tore through my leg and I hit the ground hard. Pain exploded up my thigh, white-hot and blinding. I reached for the detonator but my fingers found only grass and dirt.
"Anya, run," I gasped.
But she did not run. She dropped to her knees beside me, her hands pressing against my wound, her face wet with tears. "I am not leaving you."
"You have to. Go. Now."
"No."
Alexander walked down the porch steps, his gun still smoking. His guards flanked him, at least a dozen, their weapons aimed at my head. More men poured out of the house behind them, spreading across the lawn like wolves circling wounded prey.
"How touching," Alexander said, stepping over a dead guard's body. "The loyal wife. Willing to die for a man who has nothing."
"She is not dying for anyone," I said. Blood soaked through my pants and into the dirt beneath me. The cold earth pressed against my back. "She is walking out of here alive."
"Really? Your bomb is useless without the detonator. Your guns are empty. You have nothing left, Markov. Nothing."
The detonator lay three feet away, just out of reach. I could see it glinting in the moonlight. If I lunged for it, they would shoot me before I got there. If I stayed still, they would shoot me anyway.
Alexander crouched down beside me, his face calm and composed, like we were discussing business over coffee. "You fought well. Most men would have stayed dead. But you are not most men."
"Flattery will not save you."
"I do not need saving." He picked up the detonator and turned it over in his hands, admiring it like a precious jewel. "You do. Your wife does. But mostly, you do."
"Give that back."
"No. I think I will keep it. As a souvenir. A reminder of the day Nikolai Markov finally lost." He slipped it into his pocket and stood up. My chest tightened. Without it, the bomb was just dead weight strapped to my chest.
"Anya," I said, my voice low and desperate. "When I tell you to run, you run. Do not look back. Do not stop."
"I told you. I am not leaving you."
"If you stay, we both die. If you go, at least one of us lives."
Her eyes searched mine, and I saw the war happening behind them. Love against survival. Hope against despair.
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
"With my life."
"Then trust me now. Run."
She shook her head, tears falling onto my bloodied shirt. "Nikolai, please..."
"Anya, for once in your life, just listen to me."
Alexander clapped his hands slowly, mockingly. "Beautiful. Truly beautiful. The kind of love songs are written about. But it changes nothing. You are both still mine."
He raised his gun and aimed it at my head. The barrel was dark and empty, like the grave waiting for me.
"Any last words, Markov?"
I looked at Anya. At the woman I had loved, lost, found, and was about to lose again. She was the best thing in my life. The only good thing.
"Yeah," I said. "I am sorry I could not give you the life you deserved. I am sorry for everything."
"Enough." His finger tightened on the trigger.
"Wait!"
The voice came from behind us. Loud and commanding. Everyone turned.
Viktor stood at the gate. Behind him were fifty men, armed and armored, their weapons gleaming under the estate lights. They poured through the opening like a tide, spreading across the lawn, surrounding Alexander's men from every angle.
"Alexander Volkov," Viktor said, walking forward with steady purpose. "You are surrounded. Release the Markovs and come quietly, or my men open fire."
Alexander's smile did not waver. "You are bluffing. Markov has no money left to pay mercenaries."
"I paid them."
A woman stepped out from behind Viktor. Pavel's sister. Nadia. The detective Anya had gone to for help. The one I thought had died in Volkov's attack.
"Alexander Volkov, you are under arrest for kidnapping, extortion, attempted murder, and about fifty other charges."
Alexander laughed, but there was something hollow in it now. "You think a badge scares me? I own half the police in Moscow."
"Not anymore. Your accounts are frozen. Your allies are turning themselves in. Your empire is gone, Alexander. Just like your grandfather's."
For the first time, fear flickered across his face. Real fear. "You are lying."
"I do not lie." Nadia gestured to her men. "Take him."
The guards around Alexander looked at each other, confused. Some lowered their weapons. Others shifted uncomfortably, unsure who to shoot.
"Do not just stand there!" Alexander shouted, his composure cracking. "Shoot them! Shoot all of them!"
No one moved.
"Shoot them, I said! That is an order!"
One of his guards stepped forward. Not toward us. Toward Alexander.
"We are not dying for you," the guard said, his voice steady. "You have not paid us in three months. You threatened our families. At least Markov paid on time."
Alexander's face turned red with rage. "Traitor!"
He raised his gun at the guard, but before he could fire, Viktor's shot rang out. The weapon flew from Alexander's hand and he screamed, clutching his bloody fingers.
"It is over," Nadia said. "Bring him in."
Two of her men grabbed Alexander and pulled him to his feet. He struggled and spat and cursed, but they held him tight.
"This is not over! You hear me? This is not over! I will get out! I will find you! I will kill all of you!"
They dragged him away, his screams fading into the night until there was nothing left but silence.
I collapsed back onto the grass. The pain in my leg was unbearable now, but I did not care. It was over. Finally over.
Anya crawled to me and took my face in her hands. "You are alive. You are alive."
"Barely." I smiled through the pain. "But yes."
They helped me to the car, and as we drove away, Anya leaned her head on my shoulder.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered. "When the warehouse exploded, I thought you were gone."
"I almost was." I kissed the top of her head. "But I made you a promise. I told you I would always find you."
At the hospital, they wheeled me inside. The lights were bright and the smell was antiseptic. People in white coats rushed around me, asking questions I could not answer.
But through it all, I held Anya's hand. And she held mine.
The last thing I saw before the anesthesia took me was her face. The last thing I heard was her voice.
"I love you, Nikolai."
And then there was darkness.