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Temur whips his head toward me, his eyes wide. “Son of a bitch,” he snarls, and in a flash, he’s slamming his hand against the lockdown button.
The room seals with a metallic hiss. He storms out of the room, his footsteps heavy with urgency, and I hear him tearing through drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. Moments later, he’s back with a first aid kit in one hand and a cold, determined look in his eyes.
“Isabella, I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get rid of it. Now.” His eyes look pointedly at my arm.
“How?” My voice trembles as I see him unsheath a knife, the blade gleaming ominously under the soft lights of the room. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest.
“We have to cut it out.” He looks at me apologetically. “This is how they’ve been finding you.” He kneels beside me, taking my arm. “Hold still,” he mutters.
Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, the blade slices into my arm. A white-hot pain shoots through me, and I bite back a scream, my nails digging into the armrest. The pain intensifies as he digs deeper, his focus unwavering.
“There it is,” Temur breathes.
His fingers carefully prying out the small device nestled beneath the layers of flesh. My vision blurs with tears, but I blink them away, watching as he finally manages to grip the tracker with a pair of tweezers.
With a quick, precise motion, he pulls the device out, a tiny, bloody chip now held between the metal prongs. I gasp in relief, the intense pain subsiding into a dull throb as Temur tosses the tracker onto the floor and crushes it beneath his boot.
“Are you okay?” Temur asks, his hands steady as he quickly bandages the wound.
“Well, you just sliced into my arm,” I snap through gritted teeth, the pain throbbing. “And two psychopaths with their private military army have just stormed the house… so how do you think I’m doing?”
“I’m going to take that angry outburst to mean you’re okay,” Temur tells me, a flash of amusement in his eyes as he turns back to watch the drama unfold on the monitors.
I glance back at the monitors, and my blood runs cold as I see Lev and Stacy’s mercenaries swarming the farm, guns drawn, the situation spiraling out of control.
The dull throb in my arm reminds me of what Lucien told me. “Lucien must have left that tracker in me on purpose, to lead Lev right to us.”
“Lucien’s a fucking idiot,” Temur growls, looking at my arm. “He’s playing with fire, and he’s going to get burned by your brother, your uncle, and even your grandmother.”
“I can’t believe they tagged me like some kind of animal.” Rage flares within me, boiling over as I turn back to the monitors, my eyes narrowing. “And I’m even angrier at myself for not seeing through Stacy’s lies.” I look up at Temur, the betrayal cutting deep. “She deceived me at every turn.”
“She’s a damn good actress,” Temur says, shaking his head. “She and Lev had everyone fooled, even the commander. Konstantin’s only flaw is that he’s too trusting when it comes to the people he loves.”
“That’s just a human flaw,” I mutter, my eyes locked on the screen as Stacy and Lev storm through the farmhouse like they own the place. Their private military contractors drag Lucien and Harry out of the study and into the living room, shoving them toward Lev and Stacy. “We need to go help them.” I glance at all the other monitors. “Is this another Bratva house where all Dmitry’s men are?”
“I wondered that myself,” Temur said. “There were only three guards when I came in here and they were Lucien’s men.”
Our eyes widen as we look at each other, saying in unison. “This is another trap!”
Chapter 27
ANDREY
We’ve been in position for what feels like hours, hidden in the shadows of the tree surrounding Dmitry’s farmhouse. The compound is eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustles of leaves in the wind or exchange between the guards at the front door and the ones patrolling the grounds.
Konstantin is beside me. Like a hawk, his sharp eyes scan the area. The rest of our team is spread out waiting for our command, while Sasha has disappeared into late afternoon darkness to scout the house.
Suddenly, the low hum of an engine breaks the silence. My heart skips a beat as the headlights cut through the darkness, and a sleek black limo pulls up to the front of the farmhouse. Konstantin and I exchange a look—this wasn’t expected.
“Who the hell is that?” I keep my voice low.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Konstantin murmurs, his focus never wavering from the limo as it comes to a stop.
I watch as the doors open, and my breath catches in my throat when Roman and my mother step out of it.
“Fuck!” I hiss. “This is going to complicate things.”
Before Roman and Grace can take more than a few steps, Lev’s PMCs appear from the shadows, swarming around Roman and Grace.
