Chapter 6 - The Blood Oath
By 3:30 a.m., the master bedroom was cleared of bodies, the shattered window boarded up with temporary plywood, and auxiliary power restored to the main estate.
Dmitri stood in the study downstairs, holding a satellite phone, making rapid calls to Nikolai’s private intelligence contacts in Europe and South America.
Upstairs, in the adjoining private quarters where Nikolai slept, Vera sat on a leather sofa wrapped in a heavy fleece blanket. Her hands were still trembling, holding a mug of hot tea that had long since gone cold.
Nikolai walked out of his private bathroom, having washed the blood from his hands and face, wearing a fresh dark shirt. He walked straight to a safe built into the wall behind his bookshelf, unlocked it with a biometric scanner, and pulled out a heavy black leather folder containing offshore property deeds, corporate assets, and encrypted banking keys.
He brought the folder over, setting it on the table directly in front of Vera.
“What is this?” Vera asked, looking up at him.
“This is seventy percent of my liquid assets,” Nikolai said, sitting on the edge of the leather coffee table facing her. “Property deeds in Switzerland, secure bank accounts in Liechtenstein, and diplomatic passport documentation under a legal pseudonym.”
Vera frowned, setting her mug down. “Why are you showing me this?”
“Because at 5:00 a.m., a private helicopter will land on the north lawn,” Nikolai said, his voice quiet, cold, and entirely serious. “Dmitri will escort you to an airfield in Portland, where my jet will fly you straight to Geneva. You will be given a new identity, a secure villa in the mountains, and enough financial independence to live three lifetimes without ever having to work again.”
Vera stared at him, feeling a strange, hollow ache opening up in her chest that was far worse than the fear she had felt during the gunfight.
“You’re sending me away,” she said softly.
“I am keeping you alive,” Nikolai corrected, his grey eyes locked on hers. “Julian Vance failed tonight, but he will try again. The Helian Group will not stop until they realize that holding you is impossible. Once you are in Switzerland under a protected identity, you will be completely invisible to them.”
“And what about you?” Vera asked, leaning forward, her fleece blanket slipping off her shoulders. “What happens to you, Nikolai?”
A cold, terrifying smile appeared on Nikolai’s lips—a smile that revealed the true, ruthless mafia boss beneath the refined, aristocratic exterior.
“Before dawn,” Nikolai said softly, “I am taking my entire security force to the abandoned lumber mill where Julian Vance is hiding. I am going to execute every single man involved in this contract. I will erase the Helian Group’s presence in North America by sunrise.”
Vera looked into his eyes and saw no hesitation, no doubt, and no mercy. He wasn't just defending his business empire anymore; he was going to war to avenge the threat brought to her doorstep.
“You could be killed,” she whispered.
“I have been close to death fifty times in my life, Vera,” Nikolai replied, reaching out and gently taking both of her cold hands into his large palms. “It has never bothered me. But standing in that greenhouse today, realizing someone was looking through a rifle scope at you while you slept... that broke something inside me that I cannot repair.”
He tightened his grip on her fingers, his dark eyes ablaze with an absolute, possessive devotion.
“I claimed you as mine the moment I hired you three years ago,” Nikolai confessed, his deep voice vibrating through her chest. “I was just too cowardly to tell you until my enemies forced my hand. Now, whether you go to Switzerland or stay in this house, you carry my protection forever. No man will ever touch you. No man will ever threaten you again.”
Vera looked at his hands holding hers, feeling the warmth, the strength, and the terrifying truth behind his words.
She didn't want the Swiss villa. She didn't want the diplomatic passport. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life hiding in an immaculate mountain compound dreaming of winter roses and a cold, dangerous man in Oregon.
She squeezed his hands back with all the strength she possessed.
“I’m not getting on that helicopter at dawn, Nikolai,” Vera said, her voice steady and unyielding.
Nikolai’s dark eyebrows drew together in shock. “Vera, don't be foolish—”
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“You spent three years watching me work from your terrace,” Vera interrupted, her eyes fierce. “You spent three years caring about a woman who argued with you about soil acidity. If you think I am going to let you drive off into a slaughterhouse while I run away to Europe, you understand me even less than your enemies do.”
Nikolai stared at her, stunned into absolute silence by the stubborn, fiery courage burning in the eyes of the woman he had tried so hard to keep innocent.
