Chapter 2 - The House on Lockdown
Within twenty minutes, the Petrov estate was transformed into a fortress under siege.
The paramedics who arrived were met at the gates by armed guards, escorted into the private study under heavy guard, and instructed to check Alexei’s vitals without asking questions. Once they confirmed that his oxygen levels were stabilizing and that there was no brain damage, Dmitri paid them a staggering sum in cash to forget the call ever happened and sent them away.
No outside ambulances. No police reports.
The heavy iron gates at the entrance of the thirty-acre estate were locked shut. Heavy steel shutters descended over the lower windows, cutting off the afternoon sunlight and plunging the ground floor into a quiet, shadow-drenched gloom.
In the grand dining room, Maria sat at the long mahogany table, holding a mug of tea that had gone stone cold. Her knees were still shaking. Beside her, Sophie was happily coloring in a picture book, oblivious to the fact that ten heavily armed men were patrolling the hallway outside.
"Maria."
Maria jumped at the sound of her name. She turned to see Dmitri standing in the doorway. His suit jacket was off, his shoulder holster exposed, and his knuckles were bruised.
"Dmitri," Maria said, her voice trembling as she stood up. "Please... can I take Sophie home? I know something terrible happened, but she's just a child—"
"You're not going home, Maria," Dmitri said calmly, though there was an edge to his tone that made her skin prickle. "Nobody leaves the estate today. Not until we know who put that device in Alexei’s cup."
"I had nothing to do with it!" Maria insisted, stepping in front of Sophie defensively. "I was upstairs folding linens! You saw me!"
"I know you didn't do it," Dmitri said, stepping closer. "If you wanted him dead, you wouldn't have let your daughter save him. But the person who did this is still in this house. And until we find them, this entire estate is on total lockdown."
Before Maria could respond, the heavy double doors at the end of the hall opened.
Alexei Petrov walked in.
He was still pale, and his voice was completely gone, reduced to a low, raspy whisper, but his posture was upright and unyielding. He wore a fresh black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the deep red bruises on his throat where Dmitri had cleared his airway.
On his left lapel, incongruous and bright, was the small yellow smiley-face sticker Sophie had given him. He hadn't taken it off.
"Alexei," Dmitri said, turning immediately. "You should be resting."
"I rest when I am dead, Dmitri," Alexei whispered hoarsely. He walked slowly toward the dining table. His eyes scanned the room, passing over the heavy drapes, the security guards stationed at the doors, and finally settling on Maria and Sophie.
Maria bowed her head slightly. "Mr. Petrov... I'm so sorry my daughter intruded in your study. I tried to stop her—"
"Maria," Alexei interrupted, his rasping voice cutting her off softly. "Sit down."
Maria swallowed hard and sat back down.
Alexei walked around the table and stopped right beside Sophie’s chair. The four-year-old looked up from her coloring book, tilted her head, and smiled.
"Hi," Sophie said. "Does your throat still hurt?"
Alexei looked down at her. For the first time in the nineteen months Maria had worked for him, she saw a flicker of genuine emotion cross the man's notoriously stoic face. It was a mixture of awe, gratitude, and profound quiet shock.
"It hurts a little," Alexei whispered, bending down slightly so he was at eye level with her. "But you fixed it."
"I'm a very good doctor," Sophie said matter-of-factly, waving her purple crayon. "My stuffed bear, Mr. Fluffles, had a broken leg last week. I fixed him with tape."
"Is that so?" Alexei asked softly.
"Yes," Sophie nodded. "You need to rest and drink lots of water. And no more bad coffee."
A tiny, almost invisible smile tugged at the corner of Alexei’s mouth. "I agree. No more bad coffee."
He straightened up and turned to Dmitri. "Where is Marcus?"
Dmitri’s eyes darkened. "In the basement. Viktor and Sergei are keeping him company."
"Did he talk?"
"He claims he didn't put anything in the cup. He says he took the tray from the kitchen counter after the chef prepared it."
"And where is the chef?" Alexei asked.
"Chef Julian left the estate forty-five minutes ago through the service gate," Dmitri replied bitterly. "Ten minutes before you collapsed. He turned off his phone. His apartment in Lincoln Park is empty."
Alexei went quiet for a long moment, processing the information. The poison hadn't been an act of impulse; it was a coordinated strike from within his inner circle. Someone had bought off his personal chef, someone who knew his exact daily routine down to the minute he took his afternoon espresso.
"Julian didn't work alone," Alexei said softly. "He doesn't have the connections to source a military-grade choking capsule. Find out who paid him."
"I have people on it," Dmitri said. "What about the girl and her mother?"
Alexei turned his gaze back to Maria. Maria stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as the powerful man looked at her.
"The chef knows Marcus brought the tray upstairs," Alexei reasoned softly. "And whoever hired him expects me to be dead by now. When news leaks that I survived, they will want to know how. They will look for answers."
"They'll find out a four-year-old child saved you," Dmitri said grimly. "If the Sokolov family is behind this, they won't hesitate to target her to finish the job or cover their tracks."
Maria felt the world spin beneath her feet. "Target... target my daughter? Why would anyone hurt a baby?"
"Because in my world, Maria," Alexei said, looking directly into her panicked eyes, "there are no babies. There are only leverage points and witnesses."
He walked closer to Maria, placing one long, heavy hand on the back of her chair.
"From this moment on, you and Sophie do not leave this house," Alexei commanded quietly. "You will sleep in the secure quarters on the third floor. My personal guards will stand outside your door twenty-four hours a day. Everything you need will be brought to you."
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"Mr. Petrov, please," Maria begged, tears welling in her eyes. "We are simple people. We don't belong in your war!"
"You became part of it the moment your daughter placed her hand on my chest," Alexei whispered, his voice steady as iron. "I cannot change that, Maria. But I can promise you this: as long as I am breathing, no one in this world will touch a single hair on her head."
