Chapter 3

(**Ivan Dominic Point of View**)

Gregori leaned back in his seat, studying me with the quiet attention of a man who missed very little.

“You never told me the entire story about that girl,” he said after a moment. “The one who sent you to prison.”

My jaw tightened slightly. “There is nothing to tell.”

Gregori raised one eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You spent five years in prison for her, Sin. That is… unusual for you.”

Silence settled between us.

Gregori was right… Men like me did not go to prison for strangers.

I exhaled slowly and turned my gaze toward the window as the gray streets of Detroit slid past outside the car.

“I only remember her name,” I said finally.

Gregori waited.

“It was Sierra.” I finally told him the name that haunts my mind for these past five years.

“Last name?”

I paused for a moment then I shook my head. “I... I forgot.”

Gregori frowned slightly at that answer.

“She was running for her life,” I muttered quietly. “A young girl asking me for help… that alone was strange enough. People usually run away from me, not toward me.”

My fingers tapped once against my knee.

“And yet the one time I decided someone deserved help… I failed her.” The words tasted bitter from my mouth. “Which makes me wonder if I was simply a moron.”

Gregori watched me for several long seconds before slowly shaking his head. “Why are you so certain she died in that crash?”

I sighed. “Because that is what I saw. The reason I accept the punishment, not because I fear the law, you know that will never happen, but because I deserved to be punished after my stupidity.”

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Gregori eventually leaned back again, accepting the answer without pushing further.

To him, the story ended there.

Just another bad night.

Just another ghost from the past.

“Sierra…?” he repeated thoughtfully, rolling the name across his tongue as though testing its weight.

I nodded once. “Yes.”

For several seconds Gregori remained silent, watching me with that calculating expression of his while the Rolls-Royce continued gliding through the quiet Detroit streets.

Gregori Petrov was many things—dangerous, intelligent, and ruthless when necessary—but above all he was observant. Very little escaped his notice, especially when it concerned the people closest to him.

Finally he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out his phone.

“I could ask people to look into it,” he said casually. “But without a last name, it would be difficult.”

His thumb moved quickly across the screen as he opened several pages, already considering the possibilities.

I shook my head slightly.

“It is done,” I said. “You do not need to waste time on it.”

Gregori glanced up at me before letting out a quiet chuckle. “So my Lieutenant Sin actually has a heart.”

I smirked faintly. “Funny, huh?”

Gregori nodded. “After everything you have done for me, it seems a young girl managed to knock on your heart, Sin.”

“I know,” I admitted with a small shrug. “Strange.”

For a brief moment I allowed the memory to surface again.

The rain. The fear in her eyes. The way she climbed onto my motorcycle without hesitation. And for someone like me, that moment felt… different.

I pushed the thought away.

“So,” I said, shifting the conversation. “Tell me what happened during the past five years.”

Gregori leaned back comfortably and began explaining.

While I had been locked behind prison walls, the business had continued moving forward. Our organization had grown stronger, but our enemies had grown bolder as well.

Particularly the Italian mafia.

“They started making aggressive moves,” Gregori said calmly. “They believed you were dead.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Dead?”

“No one knew where you were,” he replied with a nod. “Your belongings disappeared, and the police buried the case after your conviction. From the outside it looked like you vanished.”

A quiet chuckle escaped me. “So they assumed the monster was gone.”

Gregori smiled slightly. “Something like that.”

I leaned back in my seat. “So, you think it is time to give them a heart attack?”

Gregori laughed. “If you are ready to do your job again.”

I nodded slowly.

“I just need to stop by the garage first,” I said. “There is something I want to finish at the tattoo place.”

Gregori raised an eyebrow, already understanding what I meant.

That was the thing about Gregori… He knew me.

We had grown up together like brothers, even though we were technically cousins. Loyalty between us had never needed words. I would do anything for him, and he would do the same for me.

Because of that, Gregori was one of the very few people capable of reading my thoughts without me needing to explain them.

I had never cared much about anyone outside my family.

Not even the men working under us in the Bratva received much attention from me.

So the fact that I had risked myself for a stranger—a young girl I had known for less than an hour—was unusual.

Even to me…

Well… The truth was simple. I still did not fully understand why I had helped her. Perhaps it was because she had looked at me differently when most people feared me. They saw the tattoos, the scars, the reputation, and they kept their distance.

No one approached me for help. No one spoke to me unless they had no other choice.

But that girl… She had run straight toward me.

I remember how her hands grabbed my arm without hesitation. How her blue eyes had stared into mine without fear and for the first time in my life, someone had looked at me like I was not a monster.

Maybe that was why I had helped her.

Maybe that was why her death still lingered in the back of my mind after five long years.

Or maybe it was simply because I had never been given the chance to save her.

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