Page 49 of Lobanov Bratva Obsession
“Look at me,” I demanded when I felt him getting close.
His eyes opened, blue and dark and utterly focused on me. I held his gaze as we both climbed higher, as pleasure built to something almost unbearable, as the careful distance I’d maintained for twenty-six years finally, completely collapsed.
When I came, it was with his name on my lips and his eyes locked on mine. When he followed seconds later, I felt it in the tremor that ran through his whole body, in the way his arms tightened around me like I was the only solid thing in existence.
We stayed locked together for long moments after, breathing hard, sweat-slicked and tangled. Damian pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt something in my chest expand—warmth and terror and absolute certainty all mixed together.
“I couldn’t have asked for a better life partner,” he said quietly. “And I need you to know it before I walk into hell.”
My throat tightened with emotion I couldn’t quite name. “Which is why you’re going to survive. You have to. There’s too much to explore together.”
He laughed—soft and genuine—and kissed me with devastating tenderness.
“Whew. First time I heard Mr. Damian Lobanov laugh,” I commented.
“First time Mrs. Lobanov made love to me.”
I smiled at him. A small, shy smile.
We dressed slowly, reluctantly returning to our respective armors. Damian in his tactical gear, me in my silk and composure. But something fundamental had changed. I could feel it in the way we moved around each other now—synchronized, connected, bound by more than just strategy.
“Two hours,” Damian said, checking his watch. “The assault begins at 3:00.”
“I know.” I straightened his collar, an absurdly domestic gesture given the context. “I’ll be monitoring from here. And Damian? When you corner him—when Sergei’s at his end—I want him to know I chose this. That his niece, the woman he raised, destroyed him deliberately.”
“He’ll know.” Damian’s expression hardened back into the ghost. “I’ll make sure of it.”
He kissed me one more time—quick and fierce—then left the room. I heard the bunker door engage behind him, and then I was alone with the glowing monitors and the weight of decisions that couldn’t be unmade.
I returned to the command center, where Isabella waited with her characteristic patience.
“Feel better?” she asked with a knowing smile.
“Significantly.” I took my position at the primary console, pulling up the tactical displays. “What’s the status?”
“All strike teams report objectives secured. Sergei’s infrastructure has completely collapsed. The only remaining position is the Catskills stronghold.” Isabella pulled up satellite imagery of a fortified estate surrounded by winter forest. “He’s locked down. No communications in or out except emergency channels.”
I studied the compound, noting defensive positions, possible escape routes, and weak points in the perimeter. My legal mind automatically cataloged what was visible, what was implied, and what was strategically significant.
“How many people inside?”
“Best estimate is fifteen to twenty. A mix of private security and hardcore loyalists. They know this is the end. They’ll fight to the death.”
“Good.” The word came out colder than I’d intended. “Then there won’t be witnesses to what Sergei says before he dies.”
Isabella gave me a sharp look but didn’t comment.
The next ninety minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by tactical updates. Konstantin’s teams move into position. Roman confirms federal attention was successfully diverted elsewhere. Viktor coordinates final approach vectors.
And Damian, silent on the command channel, present only as a tactical marker moving steadily toward the target.
At 2:45, a new communication came through—not on the tactical frequency but on an emergency channel that bypassed all security protocols.
Isabella’s face went pale as she listened to her earpiece. “Elena. You need to hear this.”
She transferred the audio to my station. Sergei’s voice filled my headphones, and I felt my blood go cold.
“Elena Vasiliev.” He sounded calm despite everything. Almost amused. “I know you’re listening. I know you’re thearchitect of this destruction. And I know you’re too intelligent to let this end in a simple slaughter.”
