I finally reach there, and as the door shuts behind me, the room erupts.
“What the hell was that?” Lev snaps the second I step inside. He’s already on his feet, hands braced on the table, eyes sharp with disbelief. “You lock yourself in a room for hours, refuse to leave her side, and now you won’t see us?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I cross the room and stop in front of the wall of monitors, my eyes scanning instinctively—perimeter feeds, thermal scans, motion sensors. All green. Too green.
Lev exhales through his nose.
Roman’s voice cuts in, calm but edged. “You’re slipping.”
I finally turn my head slightly. “Careful.”
“You think we don’t see it?” Dimitri says, arms crossed, gaze steady. “This level of possessiveness clouds judgment. You’re not thinking like you used to.”
I look at him then. Really look.
“You didn’t see the glass,” I say quietly.
They all still.
“You didn’t hear the sound it made when it cracked,” I continue. “Didn’t see the bullet on the floor. Didn’t feel her shaking when I picked her up.”
Lev’s jaw tightens. “That doesn’t change who you are.”
“It does,” I say flatly.
Silence drops, heavy and tense.
Roman steps closer. “You can’t afford emotion right now. Markov will exploit it.”
I laugh once. There’s no humor in it. “He already tried.”
Lev swears under his breath. Roman’s expression hardens.
Dimitri’s gaze sharpens, calculating. “Yeah, we heard. That’s why we’re here.”
“She was alone,” I say. “For less than five minutes. And that was enough.”
Lev studies my face now, slower, more careful. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“No,” I disagree. “I’m thinking clearly.”
Roman shakes his head. “This is how men die. When they start confusing protection with obsession.”
I step closer to the table, palms flat against it, leaning in. “You want to know what obsession looks like?” I ask quietly. “It looks like imagining her blood on the floor because I chose strategy over instinct.”
No one speaks.
“I have buried men alive without losing sleep,” I continue. “I have ordered deaths over fewer consequences than this. But the thought of her not breathing—” My jaw locks. “That does something to me.”
Dimitri exhales slowly. “That’s exactly the problem.”
“That,” I correct, “is exactly why she’s still alive.”
Lev rubs a hand over his face. “You’re risking everything.”
“Yes,” I say. “I am.”
Roman’s voice lowers. “If Markov realizes she’s your weakness—”