Gregor was taken to the basement.
It was a cold place, windowless, concrete walls, a single light hanging from the ceiling. Sara had never been there before. She never wanted to see it again.
But Adrian brought her with him.
"You need to see this," he said. His face was hard. His eyes were distant. "You need to understand what I am. What I've done. What I'll do to protect you."
Sara didn't argue.
The room was empty except for a chair. Gregor sat in it, his hands bound behind his back, his face bruised from the struggle upstairs. He looked up when they entered, and that smile—that terrible smile—was still on his face.
"Mr. Volkov. Mrs. Volkov." He nodded politely, as if they were meeting for tea. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Adrian didn't answer. He walked to the wall where a table of tools sat—things Sara didn't want to look at, things she didn't want to name.
"You've been with me for twelve years," Adrian said quietly. He picked up a knife, examined the blade. "You've eaten at my table. Drank my wine. Watched my back. And all the while, you were planning to destroy me."
Gregor's smile didn't waver. "I was planning to destroy what you stand for. There's a difference."
"Enlighten me."
Gregor leaned forward as much as his bindings would allow. "Your father built an empire on blood and fear. You inherited it. You could have made it something better. But instead, you let it rot. You let weakness creep in. You let love—" his eyes flickered to Sara, "—cloud your judgment."
Adrian's grip on the knife tightened.
"Dimitri understood," Gregor continued. "He understood that power requires sacrifice. That mercy is weakness. That the only way to rule is to make everyone around you too afraid to betray you."
"Which is why Dimitri is locked in a cell and you're tied to a chair."
Gregor laughed. "For now. But we both know he won't stay there forever. There are people who want him free. Powerful people. People who believe in what he believes."
"The woman in the car," Adrian said. "Who is she?"
Gregor's smile finally faded. His eyes grew cold.
"You think I'm afraid of you, Mr. Volkov? You think I'll break because you show me a few knives?" He shook his head slowly. "I've been in this life longer than you. I've done things you can't imagine. Things that would make you sick. You don't scare me."
Adrian set the knife down.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I don't scare you. Because you're not afraid of pain. You're not afraid of death. You've made peace with that."
Gregor watched him warily.
"But there are things you care about. People you care about."
Gregor's expression flickered. It was brief—barely a second—but Adrian saw it.
"Your daughter," Adrian said softly. "Anastasia. Eighteen years old. Studying art history at the university. Lives in a small apartment near the campus. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Beautiful girl."
Gregor's face went white. "Don't."
"I've had men watching her for the past hour," Adrian continued, his voice calm, almost gentle. "She's safe. For now. But that can change in an instant. You know how fast things can change in this world."
Gregor strained against his bindings. "If you touch her—"
"I don't want to touch her." Adrian stepped closer. "I want you to tell me the truth. Who is the woman? What is she planning? And what does she want with my wife?"
Gregor's chest heaved. His eyes were wild now, the calm mask completely gone.
"She'll kill you," he hissed. "All of you. She's smarter than Dimitri. More patient. More ruthless. She's been planning this for years."
"What does she want?"
Gregor looked at Sara. Something flickered in his eyes—pity, almost.
"She wants what was stolen from her. What your husband's father took. What your husband kept."
Sara stepped forward. "I don't understand. What was stolen?"
Gregor laughed bitterly. "You really don't know, do you? He never told you."
Adrian's hand shot out, grabbing Gregor's throat. "Enough."
"You think you're protecting her," Gregor choked. "But you're putting her in more danger. The woman in the car—she's not going to stop. She'll come for your mother. For your wife. For your wife's brother. She'll take everything from you, the way your father took everything from her."
Adrian released him. Gregor slumped forward, coughing.
"Who is she?" Adrian demanded.
Gregor lifted his head. His smile returned, weaker this time, but there.
"Your father's first wife."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Sara stared at Adrian. His face was unreadable, but she saw his hands tremble.
"My father was married once. Before my mother. She died. Before I was born."
"She didn't die." Gregor's voice was barely a whisper. "She was betrayed. Cast out. Left with nothing. While your father built his empire with your mother at his side."
Adrian shook his head slowly. "That's impossible."
"Is it? Did you ever ask? Did you ever wonder why there were no photographs of her? Why no one ever spoke her name?" Gregor laughed again. "Your father erased her from history. But he couldn't erase her hatred. Or her determination."
Sara's mind raced. "She's been planning this for years?"
"Decades. She watched your father die. Watched you take his place. Watched you build something new. And now she's ready to tear it all down."
Adrian stepped back from Gregor. His face was pale. His eyes were distant, lost in thought.
"What's her name?" Sara asked.
Gregor looked at her. "You want to know the name of the woman who's going to destroy your family?"
"I want to know the name of the woman I'm going to stop."
Gregor's smile widened. "Natalia. Natalia Volkov. The first Mrs. Volkov. And she's been waiting a very, very long time for this."
Later that night, Sara and Adrian sat in the library.
The fire crackled in the hearth. Books lined the walls. But the warmth of the room couldn't reach them.
Sara held Adrian's hand. His fingers were cold.
"Did you know?" she asked quietly. "About your father's first wife?"
Adrian shook his head. "No. My mother never spoke of her. My father never spoke of her. I didn't even know she existed."
"She's been out there all this time. Watching. Waiting."
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Gregor said she's been planning for decades. That means Dimitri wasn't working alone. He was working with her."
Sara's blood ran cold. "She's the one who helped him escape after the warehouse. She's the one who's been pulling the strings."
Adrian turned to look at her. His eyes were dark with something she hadn't seen in weeks.
Fear.
"I'm going to send you away," he said. "You, Tom, my mother. Somewhere safe. Somewhere she can't find you."
Sara pulled her hand away. "No."
"Sara—"
"I'm not leaving." Her voice was steel. "I didn't leave when Dimitri attacked. I didn't leave when Gregor pulled a gun on you. I'm not leaving now."
"This is different. Natalia—she's not like Dimitri. She's patient. Cunning. She's had years to plan. She knows us. Our weaknesses. Our fears."
"Then we find her first."
Adrian stared at her. "How? We don't know where she is. We don't know what she looks like. We don't know anything about her except her name."
Sara took his hands. "Then we find out. We find everyone who knew your father. Everyone who was there when she was cast out. We dig until we find something. Anything."
Adrian was quiet for a long moment.
Then he nodded slowly. "Tomorrow. We start tomorrow."
"Tonight." Sara squeezed his hands. "She's already inside, Adrian. She said it herself. She's already watching. We don't have time to wait."
Adrian pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.
"I should have killed Dimitri when I had the chance," he whispered into her hair. "Ended this before it started."
"You did the right thing." Sara held him tighter. "You chose mercy. That's who you are. That's why I love you."
"And if that mercy gets you killed?"
Sara pulled back and looked at him.
"Then we make sure it doesn't."
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