MikhailSomething was wrong. I'd been staring at the ceiling for the past two hours, unable to sleep. Every instinct I'd developed over the years was screaming at me, but I couldn't pinpoint why.Liliana was curled up beside me, finally resting after everything we'd been through. Viktor and Dmitri were taking shifts on watch. Anastasia had fallen asleep in the chair by the window, looking fragile and exhausted.But my mind kept replaying the conversation from earlier. Something about Anastasia's story didn't add up.I slipped out of bed quietly and moved to the small table where I'd spread out everything we knew. Documents, photos, timelines. I'd been trying to piece together the Architect's plan, but there were too many holes."Can't sleep either?" Anastasia's faint voice came through.I turned to find her awake, watching me with those same caring eyes I'd known my whole life."Just thinking," I said."About Vlad?" She asked."Among other things." I studied her face in the dim light
LilianaMikhail tore his shirt and tied it around my arm to stop the bleeding. The tension between Mikhail and Anastasia was thick enough to cut with a knife.We were back in our motel room, all of us exhausted and on edge. The attack at the factory had been a disaster. We'd barely escaped, and we still didn't know who the real enemy was."Start talking," Mikhail said. "Everything."Anastasia sat on the edge of the bed, looking older than I'd ever seen her. Her perfect composure was cracking."I don't know where you're getting your information from," she said, her voice shaking. "But I am not Anastasia Romanova. I never was.""Don't lie to me," Mikhail snapped. "We know the truth.""What truth?" She reached into her purse with trembling hands. "This truth?"She pulled out a worn document and handed it to Mikhail. It was a birth certificate, yellowed with age."Anastasia Volkova," Mikhail read aloud. "Born December 15th, 1968. Parents: Ivan Volkov and Maria Volkova.""That's your grand
MikhailThe abandoned factory on the outskirts of Moscow looked like something from a horror movie. Broken windows, rusted metal, and shadows that seemed to move on their own. The air smelled dangerous. But it was perfect for what we needed to do."Are you sure she'll come?" Dmitri asked, adjusting his earpiece."She'll come," I said, watching the entrance through binoculars. "Anastasia can't resist the chance to finish what she started."We'd spent the last three hours setting up our trap. Instead of going to the warehouse like she expected, we'd leaked information that I was hiding at this old factory. We made it look sloppy, and desperate. Like we were running out of options.Which wasn't entirely a lie."There's movement at the north entrance," Viktor reported from his position on the second floor. "Three black SUVs.""How many men?" I whispered into my mic."Looks like twelve. Maybe fifteen.""And Anastasia?""She's in the second vehicle. I can see her through the windshield."My
LilianaI couldn't stop staring at Mikhail's face. The pain in his eyes was devastating. His own aunt, the woman who had raised him, was trying to kill him. How do you recover from that kind of betrayal?"We should call off the meeting," I said for the third time. "It's obviously a trap.""Of course it's a trap," Mikhail replied, checking his gun for the hundredth time. "But it's also our only chance to end this.""What if she has fifty men waiting for us?""Then we'll be outnumbered." He said."That's not funny.""I'm not trying to be funny."We were sitting in yet another disgusting motel room, this one even worse than the last. The wallpaper was peeling, the carpet was stained with God knows what, and there was a strange smell coming from the bathroom. But it was anonymous, and right now, that was all that mattered.Dmitri was at the small table, surrounded by weapons and ammunition. He looked like he was preparing for a war. Viktor was by the window, watching the street through a
MikhailGorky Park at 7:30 PM looked like a normal evening scene. Families were walking their dogs, couples were holding hands, joggers were running past the fountain. But I knew better. Under the surface, danger was lurking everywhere.I sat on a bench fifty meters from the target location, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. A newspaper was spread across my lap, but my eyes were constantly scanning the area. Dmitri was positioned near the pond, pretending to feed ducks.And Liliana... I had wanted to leave her at the motel, but she refused. She was now at a nearby café, sipping coffee and watching through the window.“Any movement?” I whispered into my earpiece.“Nothing suspicious yet,” Dmitri replied. “But there's definitely someone watching the bench.”“Where?”“Man in a gray coat by the newspaper stand. He's been there for twenty minutes, and hasn't bought anything.” He replied.I casually looked in that direction. The man was average height, maybe forty years old, with dark
LilianaThe motel room was disgusting. Stained carpet, peeling wallpaper, and a bathroom that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the Soviet era. But it was off the grid, paid for in cash, and the manager asked no questions. After the warehouse, that was all that mattered.Mikhail made sure we didn't go back to the safe house we were hiding before since it might have been compromised.For how long are we going to be hiding? I wondered.Anastasia had refused to stay with us. Saying the place was too ugly for her to put her head. God knows where she is.I sat on the lumpy bed, watching Mikhail pace back and forth like a caged animal. He'd been doing it for two hours, ever since we'd arrived. Dmitri was hunched over his laptop at the small table, trying to crack Lucian's phone encryption. Viktor had taken the first watch outside."You're going to wear a hole in the floor," I said, trying to lighten the mood.Mikhail stopped pacing and looked at me. His face was haggard, and exhauste