Chapter 158

“You don’t understand,” she murmurs, though I’m not sure if she’s talking to Sam or herself. “We were the ones who had it all planned. Every detail. The funeral was supposed to be your ending, not ours.”

Sam takes one deliberate step forward. “You still think you know me, Kat?” His voice drops to that dangerous velvet that sets my skin on fire. “After all this time, you still haven’t learned?”

The gun at my temple wavers as Katerina processes the truth: she never really knew him at all.

Her desperation rolls off her in waves. The same turbulent terror that clings to abused dogs when they’re cornered. Ready to bite because they see no other choice.

I’m not out of the woods just yet.

I meet Sam’s eyes over the wall of tactical gear between us. His finger hasn’t moved from the trigger, but something in his expression shifts when I give him the tiniest shake of my head.

“You don’t have to do this, Katerina,” I say quietly. “There are other ways out.”

Her laugh is like stones crumbling. “You think I have options? I never had fucking options. Ilya made sure of that. The moment I agreed to his plan, he owned me. Every move, every breath—” Her voice quivers. “He used me, just like your precious Samuil did.”

“The FBI can protect you,” I murmur. “You could start over, build something real⁠—”

“Shut up!” But there’s a frantic edge to her command now. “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose everything.”

“Don’t I?” I think of my father, my brothers. The family I lost to corruption and greed. “Sometimes, losing everything is how you find what really matters.”

The raw anguish in Katerina’s face is jarring. For the first time since I’ve known her, the polished mask slips completely.

“I loved him,” she spits out, and her grip on me loosens just enough that I can finally take a full breath.

I frown. “Sam⁠—?”

“No,” she snaps. “Not Samuil—never Samuil. Ilya. Since we were young, I loved him.”

Through the bathroom door, the agent’s voice rings clear as he reads Ilya his rights. The charges roll off his tongue like a grocery list: racketeering, conspiracy to commit murder, money laundering, trafficking. Each one drives Katerina’s nails deeper into my shoulder.

“I thought, once we took power, we’d finally be together.” She sniffles and hiccups. “But he lied. Didn’t even tell me he was making this move. I was just another pawn.”

The gun slips a fraction lower. I scoot a fraction farther.

My eyes find Sam’s again. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t holstered his gun. But there’s something in his gaze now—not quite sympathy, but understanding. He knows exactly what it’s like to have love turned into a weapon.

“You have a choice,” I tell her softly. “Right here, right now. You can be more than what Ilya made you.”

For a heartbeat that stretches into eternity, the bathroom fills with the sound of Katerina’s ragged breathing and the echo of Ilya’s curses from the hall.

And for that heartbeat, I feel like we’re all going to make it.

She’s going to drop the gun. Going to surrender. Going to make the right decision for once and⁠—

Then she wrenches me closer and jams the gun into my belly. Her finger goes to the trigger.

Men shout.

Things move.

Then the shot rings out before I can scream.

My ears explode with white noise. Time warps and stretches like taffy as two things happen in rapid succession.

The first comes from below. Myles rises from beneath us, unsteady but roaring a wordless battle cry as he knocks Katerina aside. She screams, too, and whirls the gun from my gut toward him. From this close, I don’t see how she could miss.

The second thing comes from afar. A blur comes flying in and Samuil dives in front of the gun…

Right as it erupts.

Boom.

Blood sprays across the mirror shards, turning their reflective surfaces into rubies. My throat burns from a scream I can’t hear over the ringing in my ears.

Katerina’s grip on me goes slack in her shock. I drive my elbow back into her sternum. Her hold breaks completely. The gun clatters to the floor as she stumbles.

FBI agents swarm the space, piling on top of Kat, but I’m already dropping and crawling toward Sam. His blood soaks into the knees of my black dress as I reach him. He’s conscious, gray eyes blazing as they find mine.

“The baby…?” His voice sounds far away through the lingering echo of gunfire.

I press my hands over his wound. “We’re fine. I’m— We’re— Fuck, somebody help me!”

Myles kneels beside us, pressing his balled-up jacket against Sam’s shoulder where it’s pouring blood. His face is pale from his own blood loss, but his hands are steady. “You really went and took a bullet for me, you melodramatic bastard?”

Sam’s laugh turns into a cough, then a grimace. “Consider us even for the boat rescue.”

Behind us, Katerina’s hysteric sobs mix with the sounds of handcuffs clicking shut. But I can’t look away from Sam’s face, can’t stop counting his breaths, because each one means that he’s still here, still with us.

He caught a bullet meant for his friend. Meant for me.

Just when I didn’t think I could love him any more.

I can’t stop shaking as Sam’s blood seeps between my fingers. The shoulder wound gushes with each beat of his heart, dampening his crisp white shirt into a grotesque watercolor.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, pressing harder. His muscles tense under my hands, but he doesn’t make a sound.

I glance over my shoulder in time to see a glimpse of Kat’s face through the tangle of black-clad limbs. She thrashes and screams, mascara turning her tears into black rivers. The blood of the two men she tried to kill paints her cheeks red.

“Target secured,” one of the FBI agents barks. “Room clear.”

Boyko appears beside us, his previous injuries now just yellowing bruises on weathered skin. He squats next to Sam and pats him on the knee.

“As agreed, Mr. Litvinov. Full immunity in exchange for your brother and the Andropov network.”

Sam manages a tight nod, his jaw clenched against the pain. “Make sure… Nova and the baby are protected, too.”

“Already done.” Boyko stands and retreats as paramedics rush in. “Your family’s safety was part of the deal from day one.”