The man's eyes narrow. He sees it—that flash of darkness Lev keeps hunting for, the part of me that stops being afraid and starts being dangerous.
His finger tightens on the trigger.
Gunfire erupts from behind him.
He goes down, skull exploding in a spray of red and gray matter.
I duck, shielding Mila, and more shots ring out. Our reinforcements—three black SUVs screaming into the park, doors flying open, Lev's men pouring out with military precision.
The attackers scatter. Two try to run, get cut down before they reach the van. One makes it inside, van peeling out, but Mikhail's team is already pursuing.
It's over in thirty seconds.
Four dead on the grass. One wounded, writhing and screaming, trying to crawl away with both kneecaps shattered.
I'm on my knees, still holding Mila, shaking so hard my teeth chatter. The adrenaline is crashing, leaving me hollow and sick.
"Valerie." Mikhail's beside me, hands on my shoulders. "Are you hurt? Is Mila hurt?"
I can't speak. Can't form words past the terror choking me.
He checks us both anyway—efficient, professional, searching for injuries. Finds nothing but my scraped palms from where I fell, Mila's tears soaking my shirt.
"You're okay." His voice is calm, grounding. "You're both okay. Breathe, Valerie. Just breathe."
I try. Air shudders in, out, in again.
Sirens in the distance. Police responding to reports of gunfire.
"We need to move." Mikhail's already lifting me, guiding me toward the SUV. "Before authorities arrive. Can you walk?"
I nod. My legs work somehow, carrying me and Mila to the vehicle.
Inside, I finally let myself look at her. Her face is blotchy, her eyes red and swollen, and her whole body is trembling. But she's alive. Whole. Safe.
"I'm sorry." I'm crying now too, can't stop. "I'm so sorry, baby, I should have—"
"You saved me." Her voice is small, broken. "They were going to take me and you—you stopped them."
"Of course, I stopped them." I hold her tighter, like I can press her into my ribcage and keep her there forever. "No one is going to hurt you on my watch."
The SUV tears out of the park. Mikhail's on the phone, talking in rapid-fire Russian.
We're ten minutes from the estate when I see it.
Another vehicle approaching fast. Black sedan, windows tinted.
More of them. They're coming back.
I brace, ready to shield Mila again, but the sedan slows. Falls into formation behind us.
Escort. Protection.
My heart's still hammering when we pull through the estate gates. They close behind us with a clang that sounds like safety, like fortress walls, like nothing can touch us here.
Lev's already outside. He must have run back from wherever he was. Must have gotten the call the second shots were fired.
The SUV barely stops before he's ripping the door open.