Pavel found Katya reading a book in the sunroom off the back patio. Natasha and Nikita had settled in with the babies for the afternoon and had given them both the rest of the day off. He had resisted initially, but one stern look from Nikita had made it clear that his presence wasn’t required. Pavel had stationed a trusted guard at the door to Nikita and Natasha’s suite of rooms, positioned Beast in his usual spot, then went off in search of Katya.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, she lowered her book to her lap and smiled softly up at him. The way the mid-afternoon sun shone down all around her gave Katya’s features an ethereal quality that stole his breath.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the empty space next to her on the porch swing that Kathleen had insisted Glazov install in the bright, glassed-in space.

“Please. I’d enjoy the company.”

He sat down next to her, grimacing self-consciously as the wood groaned under his considerable frame. Silence ensued, broken only by the soft, rhythmic creaking of the old-fashioned swing moving gently beneath them.

“Are you enjoying your time here?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, everyone has been lovely to me. I couldn’t ask for a better work assignment.”

“Mrs. Glazov hired you from an agency, I hear. Are you, um…I mean to say, will you--”

She frowned at his hesitation. “If you have something to say, please just say it.”

He nodded decisively, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together lightly. “Yes. Of course. Will you be looking for something more…permanent?”

“Oh. Well, not right away, but yes, eventually, I suppose I will. Why?”

The big man hung his head over his clasped hands for a long moment before turning his face toward her. “I want you here. With me. I want you to stay.”

Helena could tell Kolya was troubled. It didn’t take years of being with a man to know when there was something on his mind. The air was thick with tension and right now she needed truth to feel secure about the drastic changes she was making in her life.

“Talk to me, Kolya.” She gently stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “There’s nothing you can say that could turn me against you.”

He turned, earnestly looking at her as he weighed the truth of her words. “Do you understand that you’re involved with a man who has dedicated his life to the Bratva? Do you understand what that means?”

“I’m from the motherland. I’m more than aware of what it means.”

“I am not a good man, Helena. The man I work for is a killer. I’m a fighter and anything else he tells me to be. When he says ‘kill’, I kill for him. I don’t ask questions.”

“Whatever he’s told you to do is part of your job and I will stand by you no matter what. We can get through this together.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. She understood the ways of Bratva. Even Russian children who didn’t grow up Bratva understood the Bratva lifestyle and the expectations that came with it. The most important of those was to respect the Pakhan.

“He wants me to kill him in the ring, either while sparring or during an official fight – doesn’t matter when. It will be the second time I’ve killed a man that way. The first time was an accident. I’ve spent years trying to get past that. I can’t help but think this is some kind of test.”

“He has asked you to do something that would force you to dredge up a past trauma? That’s cruel.”

“Depends on how you look at it. Glazov is a master at finding a person’s core weakness. If you are his enemy, he will exploit it to your detriment; if you are his ally, he will ensure that you conquer it. He didn’t have to look very hard to find mine. And I do owe him. I owe him everything. He brought me over here from Russia and gave me a life and a career. He knows all there is to know about me. Me being willing to do this will show complete loyalty. And anyway, Bjarke is a dirt bag. Killing him for the Pakhan will be an honor.”

“There’s got to be another way.” She cautiously looked at him, choosing her words carefully. “Bjarke is a drunk, so it would be easy enough to drug him. A car wreck would look like an accident too, but it wouldn’t come back on you.”

He cut his eyes at her. “Are you asking me to disobey the orders of the Pakhan? That would be a death sentence.”

“For who?”

“For both of us.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

Her grabbed her by the arms so fast she never saw it coming, forcing her to look up at him. “Don’t ever ask me to betray Alexander Glazov. Do you understand me?”

“Kolya, you’re scaring me.”

“No, I’m saving your life.”

She knew in that moment if they were going to be together, her loyalty for the Pakhan would have to run as deep as his. But she wanted to protect him, to help him find a way to honor his Pakhan without facing old demons and opening a wound that was better left alone.

“This isn’t about me wanting you to defy his orders, Kolya. But…I love you. I know what it’s like to unearth long-buried secrets. It brings back all the pain until your life is out of control again. Is it so wrong for me to want only good things for you, and a good life for us?” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to defend herself against his rebuke.

“You don’t get it, do you? He isn’t just my boss, he’s our boss.”

It was true…being with Kolya meant Alexander Glazov owned her now, as well. The question wasn’t how Bjarke would die. The question was whether being with Kolya was worth taking on the responsibilities of being a true Bratva woman. There could be no halfhearted commitment to the Bratva life—it was all or nothing. It was one thing to grow up hearing tales of Bratva brutality and, yes, its own brand of honor. But this? This was different. Shit was getting real.

There had to be a way to protect her man and not betray Alexander Glazov. She just didn’t know what it was yet.