My jaw tightens.
He’s been watching her longer than I thought.
The screen on the far wall flickers to life.
Lev appears first, calm and composed, eyes sharp. Roman joins a second later, posture immaculate, already calculating. Dimitri comes in last, scowling, arms crossed like he’s ready to break something.
Roman speaks first. “This better be urgent.”
“It is,” I say. “Markov.”
The word lands heavy.
Dimitri’s expression darkens. “That snake’s still breathing?”
Lev leans closer to his camera. “You’re sure?”
I slide the file across my desk, as if they can see it through the screen. “Hart’s disappearance. The blocked trails. The reused ciphers. It’s him. And if he knows Raelyn is under my name, then we’re already compromised.”
Roman’s gaze sharpens. “If Markov knows she’s alive, he’ll move.”
“He already has,” I reply. “We just haven’t felt it yet.”
Silence stretches.
Then Dimitri exhales harshly. “So this isn’t about whether the marriage was necessary anymore.”
“No,” I say coldly. “It’s about whether it was fast enough.”
Lev’s voice is quiet. “If Markov is inside the perimeter—”
“He’s not inside,” I cut in. “But he’s close enough to breathe on the glass.”
Roman nods slowly. “Then we assume surveillance. Internal leaks. No nonessential movement.”
“And Raelyn?” Dimitri asks.
My answer is immediate. “She doesn’t leave the estate. Not without me. Not without full lockdown.”
Lev watches me carefully. “You’re sure you can keep her safe?”
I meet his gaze without hesitation. “Don’t ever fucking ask me that ever again!”
Neither of them speaks for a moment.
Roman finally says, “We’re with you, Konstantin. But if Markov makes his move—”
“I’ll end him,” I say simply. “And anyone standing behind him.”
The call ends shortly after. No theatrics. No reassurances. Just understanding.
I’m too restless to sit still. The walls feel closer than they should. I push back from my desk, intent on walkingthe perimeter myself—seeing my men, reminding my body that control still exists in motion.
I open the office door—
—and nearly collide with her.
Raelyn stands in the hallway, just outside my office, like she’s been holding herself together by sheer will. Her eyes are bright, furious. Her hands tremble at her sides—not fear. Anger.