I got the call halfway through breakfast that something had happened at our building.

My heart stopped as I listened to Anya's frantic voice, the sound of gun shots and screams rang like a terrifying symphony in my ears. I didn't even bother finishing my omelette, I just leapt into my car and floored it. Eddie and Felix had to take another car to catch up to me, both of them with their guns loaded and ready for a fight.

My building, the legacy of my late father was under attack.

The lobby was full of people. The moved out of the way as I made my way to the elevators. Their concern manifested in hushed whispered and pointed stares. I could feel the panic in the air as my body guards surrounded me on all sides, escorting me toward my office.

I could hear the faint sound of gunshots. With each shot, the crowned flinched or nervously glanced at the full exits.

"Evacuate the building." I said to one of my managers who trailed behind me nervously. "I don't want anyone here, understood?"

He nodded, tugging at his collar. "And the police?" He asked, glancing over towards the exits. The dual lights of blue and red flashed over the marble floors. "Should I dispatch them upstairs to sweep the floors."

I glanced over to two officers who were busy trying to reassure people in the main lobby. They were just normal patrol cops, I doubt they could do anything but shoot.

"Just do as I say," I order him. "Make sure everyone's out. I don't want any casualties in case things go bad."

It wasn't a bomb. It would've went off by now. I wouldn't put it past Zoya for trying something like that. As much as we wanted to kill each other, neither of us could stand cops. This was an attack on me, hitting me where it hurt.

I entered the elevator. Nik and Eddie stood next to me, both of their hands on their guns. Who knew what was going to be up there. I pulled out my gun too, unlocking the safety. The gold inlaid into the hilt felt heavy, I wondered just how many more times I would have to use it.

I counted the floors. All three of us were tense until the doors opened.

And then it was just chaos.

Whoever they were—they opened fire on us. I could hear the rush of air as the bullets flew past my head.

Four other men were hidden away, dressed in all black with ski masks over their heads.

"Not the best of welcomes!" Felix yelled, taking a few well aimed shots. One of them went down in a flail of limbs, his blood staining the floors in macabre shapes.

"Zoya is really a bastard!" I said, ducking out of the elevator and taking cover behind a office wall.

There were already bullet holes and blood, it looked like a war zone than a corporate office. I just hoped that I would get out in one peace.

I needed to find Anya. I knew she was on this floor and I didn't know if her bodyguards were with her or not...and I don't know if she was alive. No matter how much I called, she didn't pick up her phone. I couldn't imagine losing someone again—especially her. Anya had sacrificed a peaceful life in London to support me when I needed her most. There was nothing I could do to repay that. My debt to Anya was immeasurable.

There was an opening between the volley of gunshots. I took my chance and ducked down, quickly making it into one of the offices. The cat cut into my skin as I crawled underneath a shit out window, the blinds in tatters around me.

Eddie and Felix were still pinned. Three gun men were firing from pillars, all of them dressed in black and had ski marks on. Similar to the ones that I saw the night Zoya tried to have me killed.

I had to help them. I aimed my gun and squeezed the trigger. I felt the rush of adrenaline and the euphoria as my bullet sailed through the air. I heard a cry and then the sound of a body hitting the ground. I pulled the trigger again, aiming at the second gunman who hid behind one of the overturned desks. I could see his eyes train on me as I missed. He returned fire, one of the bullets shattering a potted plant next to me. I ducked back down, reloading my gun. The next time I peaked over the broken window, Felix had broken through and was in a fist fight with the second gunman. He took him to the ground and started to rain his fists down in him.

I looked away, knowing that he could take care of him self.

The fourth gunman was gone and I knew he was looking for me. I had to get out of here and search the floor for Anya. I crawled under the broken window and reached for the door handle. The door kicked open and the fourth gun man came barreling in. He kicked the gun out of my hand and kicked me in the chest, pushing me to the ground.

I scrambled for the gun but his boot was on my neck and pressing down.

A single, clear shot rang out—to a dying man it was a beautiful sound. The man in the mask looked at my hand which was empty and then the blood pouring out of his chest before slumping over, his body hitting the floor with a loud thump. I felt my heart skip in my chest as I looked up.

Anya stood in her office, a silhouette against dimly lit lights. Her silver revolver was in her hand, the muzzle still smoking as she glared at the man at my feet bleeding out. There was little remorse or sympathy in her blue eyes. Her own bodyguards were hot on her heels, both of them with their guns drawn. One of them had a bruised face and a bloodied nose. Their sunglasses were missing a lenses, making them look a bit ridiculous.

I was just happy that my sister was okay.

"Boss!" They relaxed once they saw me. One offered his hand to pull me up which I gladly accepted.

"Good work, men." I said, tucking my gun away into my holster. "I'm going to give all of you a proper raise for Christmas."

"Ivan." Anya called out. Her hair had been pulled back in a severe bun, exposing her face.

I wrapped my arm around her narrow shoulders and pulled her close. Anya sighed deeply, placing a hand on the back of my shoulder. "You're alive."

"You think I'd let anyone take this building without a fight?"

I grin at her bravado, "Zoya underestimated you."

"Look." She said pulling back with a pinched expression, lips pursed and eyes narrowed down at the medium sized cardboard box on my desk.

It was already open. I could smell the stench of blood as soon as I walked in—now I knew who's it was.

"Look at what they've done." She hissed, slamming her hands down on the desk. "They've killed Viktor."

In the box was a severed hand with a familiar gold ring. I recognized Viktor's family ring. It was always on his pinky ring. Now it was just a morbid decoration. I had met him only a few months ago when I met with the council. Back then, he had given me a chance to plead my case with Jack Sciarra. Now he was dead—a clear warning to the Council to not interfere in our business.

"Zoya." I confirmed. "He has a thing for hands."

"And his bastard of a kid."

"So it's begun." I closed the lid of the box but I could still smell the rotting flesh and the stench of blood. "This is how he's letting us know. Sick bastard. Couldn't even spare his life. I doubt we'll be able to find the rest of his body."

"Ivan!" Nik slams the office door open. He's a bit bruised, his eyes wide and I see the phone clutched in his hand.

"What?" We both snap at him. "What now?"

"It's mom." He says, breathlessly.

Anya gasps, her hand covering her face in horror. I grip the side of the desk, my mind in a sudden uproar. A million scenarios raced through my head, each one worse than the last. This day had already been terrible and now this.

"Go," Anya said. Her expression hardened. "Go keep Mom safe. My men and I will hold down the fort."

I looked around at the change around me. "But—-"

"Go, damnit!" She shoved me. "Just make sure she's okay!"

When I made it the Greenwich house, I didn't know what I was going to be in for.

This morning had been terrible. And now it had taken a turn for the worse. Several of our business had been vandalized and our men had been ambushed. Some of them taken out by common street gangs to throw us off but I knew exactly who was behind it. And now mom had collapsed. That's all anyone said. Not fainted or dizzy. Collapsed. Like a house of fucking cards.

By the time I got there, Irene was in the kitchen with a blanket wrapped around her tiny shoulders. Her eyes welled up with tears as soon as she saw me. She wasn't much help, she was a spluttering mess of sobs and hiccups. I could barely get any information out of her.

Felix yanked open the door, ushering me in. Eddie and Nik were right behind me.

"Ivan?" My mother was on the couch near the fireplace, sitting with a blanket draped over her lap. She looked pale and her hair was messy but other than that, she was alive and well. "What are you doing here——?!"

I took three steps over and crouched down to hug her as tightly as I could. She automatically wrapped her arms around me. I didn't remember how angry I was at her or how much I wished she would stop nagging me, I was filled with relief. Even through all the fights and endless cutting remarks, she was still my mother. She didn't say it but I knew she was relieved as I was.

"I heard that you collapsed." I said, breathing out a sigh of relief. She felt so small when I wrapped my arms around her. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to hear from Nik of all people?"

"Just an old woman's heart," she said, patting my back gently. "Thankfully one of the  doctors came in to check on me."

"Dr. Carlson?" I asked, confused.

"No. Not him. The one you always talk about."

"Meera?" The name feels heavy on my tongue. "I mean...er...Dr Saravana?"

"She's very good." Mom having me a knowing look. "I can see why you like her. She's absolutely wonderful."

"Mom, please." I scrubbed my hand down my face, anticipating her 'please-get-married-I-want-grandkids' lecture. "Tell me you didn't interrogate her when she was here?"

"As if Felix would let me." She said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not that old to roll into a grave yet, Ivan. You think I would've married your father if I wasn't strong?"

I just sighed and sat down next to her. Nik perched himself on the armrest, his expression worried and anxious. For once he was quiet and quipless. Irene silently sat next to me, she moulded herself along my side. She was taller compared to last time I saw her.  Minus Anya, Nat, and Dimitri, this was my entire family—gathered here in my mothers parlour while a war raged on in the streets.

I was so close to losing this, and so much more.

*****

My mothers townhouse was located in Greenwich village, entwined in ivy and brick. The 19th century home had withstood invasion, storms, and political strife. It had been my mothers home away from home. I had many memories of living with my mother here when she and my dad had an argument...or when she wanted to get away from my father when he was in his moods.

My mother hated the kitchen but I had good memories here. Maybe that was why I came here, sitting on the same barstool as when I was a fifteen year old. There was the same granite countertops and dusty orange wallpaper that needed to be changed. I had poured myself a glass of cognac that I stored here, taking small sips as my men went through the house, looking for any surprises that Zoya may have left behind.

There was something homely about this place. Compared to my townhouse, it was warm and inviting. My place just felt like a necessity rather than a home, even after living there for almost two years it felt empty. I hadn't decorated anything. Anya had placed a few knickknacks here and there but that was about it.

I wondered if Meera would like it. I dismissed that thought. I'm sure she enjoyed Nat's house more, somehow they both became friends. It was good for Nat to have someone to lean on. God knows it's been a long time since she opened up.

"Geez! still brooding, huh?" I turned my head to see a young man standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Glad to see some things haven't changed."

"Dimitri." I greet him, tipping my glass at him.

He grinned, his cheeks forming dimples that made him look even younger. "Ivan."

Dimitri was the second youngest child in our family and my mothers third favorite. He looked more like her; chestnut hair that came down to his ears, warm green eyes, and a narrow nose. He had grown taller, coming up almost to my shoulders. I'm sure by the end of the year he's be even more taller. I'm sure Nik would throw a fit if he was.

"So......." Dimitri slung his arm over my shoulder and plucked the glass out of my hand, gulping down the amber liquid in one go. "I see you've been busy."

"And I see you've finally come out of your room." I shot back, taking back my now empty glass. I thought about pouring another one. "I thought you'd turn into a hermit."

"Very funny." He rolls his eyes, giving me a 'duh' type expression. "I need to practice. I have a recital in a few months and——"

I ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm just glad you're safe, you absolute pain in the ass."

Dimitri scowled, slapping my hand away. "That's Nik. I'm an absolute fucking delight to be around."

"Sure." I scoffed. "As long as you believe it, it's no skin off my nose."

"Ugh. You're so old."

"Wait till you get to my age, then you can complain." I said.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence that stretched with the light pouring into the kitchen. The window was small and clear, not a single speck of dust on the clear surface. I wondered how many times my mother looked out that window, wondering if she had made the right decision to marry my father.

"Why are you here, Dimitri?" I asked, leaning against my mothers kitchen counter.

Dimitri sat down next to me, crossing his ankles and swiping my drink. I didn't protest when he took a sip, wincing at the burning taste. "Honestly?"

I raised as eyebrow sharply. "You know that lying to me doesn't end well."

He rolled his eyes at my indirect threat, brushing it off like it was speck of dirt on his fancy school sports coat. "You know ever since dad died....it's been tough—" His green eyes flickered to the family portrait. "—and everyone grieves differently. You work yourself to the bone. Anya micromanaged the garden at tue main house. Mom holds charity balls. Nat runs a bar and pretends she's not over her ex. Nik beats people up because it's fun. And me....I'm lost in my music."

"Your point?"

He exhaled sharply, running his hands through his hair. "My point, Ivan, is that we're grieving but we're all doing it separately. When was the last time all of us were in the same room together?"

"Dimitri...."

"Look, I get it. There's a war. People are going to die. Hell! They're already dead!" Dimitri said. "But it's time to come home, Ivan."

I sigh and get up. "You know I can't," I say, pouring out my drink into the sink and watching it drip down the drain. "I can't bring this war home. I have to keep it from spilling out here—Where it can't reach you or Irene or Mom. Do you understand?"

"I do—but I don't want to." Dimitri gets up from the barstool, abandoning his glass of water. He gives me a mournful look, green eyes that look distant and dull. It hasn't easy for him either. "I'm going to see mom. I'll take her and Irene upstate, back home....where it's a bit safer. I think it's time for mom to come back home too. She hasn't been there since....you know."

"I do." I said gruffly. "We can spare a few men to keep an eye on you."

Dimitri opens his mouth to say something but he quickly closes it. Whatever he wants to say is gone and I couldn't say anything to reassure him...all I could do was watch him go, leaving me in the silence once again.

*****

Felix stops me before I leave. My jacket is partially on when he grabs me by the shoulder and leads me to my mothers study.

"She's in your study." He says, cryptically.

"Who?" I asked, confused. "God, what did you do now? Who is in my study, Felix?"

Felix gave me a look that was smug. I hoped the fucking bastard was proud of himself. "Dr. Saravana."

I pinched my nose between my thumb and index finger. "And Why are we keep her here?"

The corner of his lip went up and so did my urge to punch him in the face. "I thought you might want to see her."

"If I wanted to see her, don't you think I would've asked." I retorted sharply, my words coming out like lashes of a whip. "I'm sure she has more important things to do that linger around."

"Actually...she wanted to see you." Felix pointed his thumb towards the study. "I just thought you might want to see her. I know it's been a shit day but I think you need to see her."

Bastard.

"I should fire you." I said, not really meaning it.

"No, you won't." Felix gave me a grin, his hand on the doorknob. "You'll thank me for this later."

"Ass." I grumbled and brushed past him. The door opened and closed behind me quickly.

Meera stood in the study, dressed in bright blue scrubs and her hair twirled into a messy bun. She looked up, her eyes finding mine. Meera got up slowly, her fingers gripping the material of her jacket.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the window, bathing her in golden light. The light glinted off her glasses and made her eyes look like watery pools.

My heart lurched at the sight of her. She was safe and sound, tucked away in my mothers study.

"Ivan," she gasped.

Meera took a step towards me.

I crossed the room in less than five steps on shaky legs, and wrapped my arms around her. I pressed my face against her neck and hugging her as tightly as I could. Half in fear and half in gratitude.

The smell of blood and gun smoke lingered around me like death. She could probably smell it on my but I couldn't care.

I was still terrified and I could feel the anger burning in me but I just needed Meera to ground me, keep me from flying into the stratosphere.

God, I've never been so scared before.

"Thank you." I whispered into her shoulder. "I.....Thank you."

"I was just doing my job." She said. Her arms remained down by her side. "But you're welcome."

"I owe you again." I chuckled and pulled away.

Meera rolls her eyes, fondly. "We don't owe each other anything, remember?"

I see the tiredness in her eyes and the specks of blood on his scrubs.

"How bad was today?" I ask, tearing my away from her neck where a smear of blood had been earlier.

Her expression turns somber. She sinks back down into her seat, hiding her hands away in the pockets of her jacket. "Brutal. We lost several of your men."

"God, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you?" She looked up. "Dont be."

I sat down opposite to her, collapsing into the chair as the events of the day caught up to me. "It's my fault. I got my own men killed."

Meera sighs and leans forward. She picked up my hand, cradling it. Her touch feels gentle and I resist the urge to flinch away. "You can't blame everything on you. Trust me, it'll only lead you to ruin."

There was blood on her collar. I could see streaks of it, just underneath her ear and wrapping around the side of her neck. How did she not even notice that?

"You have something on your neck," I pointed out.

"What?" Meera looked surprised. She lifts her hand and rubs at the spot. "Is it gone?"

I shook my head and pointed at the floor length mirror on one of the walls. "No. There's a mirror."

Meera curses underneath her breath and walked over the mirror, roughly pushed her hair out of the way to find the streak of blood.

I couldn't help but stare when he tugged her hair out of its bun. A waterfall of ink black hair cascaded down her back to her waist. I followed it, noticing how her hair turned more brown near the tips. I wondered how she maintained such long hair, it looks shiny and thick, as if she took good care of it.

Meera made a sound of disapproval as she wiped a cloth over the neck. I glanced away, crossing my arms over my chest and staring out into the gardens. I kept glancing back to her though. I could see her face in the mirror. Today she wore a new pair of glasses. Silver round frames that caught the light. She looked so tired. More tired than usual. There were circles underneath her eyes, her hair was a mess, and her shoulders hunched over herself.

I knew the difference between being tired and then being so tired that you felt it in your bones.

I wish Meera didn't have to work so hard. I know she liked to work, it was her passion but i doubted if Meera was aware that she overworked herself into exhaustion. I could see all the burdens she was carrying——I knew what that was like.

"I can hear you thinking over there, Ivan," she says. Meera nods at herself in the reflection and turns around, still trying to tame her hair into a ponytail. "What is it?"

To be honest, I had spent the past week trying to find the right words to say to her.

I get up and pace for a bit before answering her. By the time I can settle for some words, I lean against the closed doors, twisting my ring around my finger.

"Meera." My lips formed her name, curving the vowels.

"Ivan," she responded back in the same tone.

"It's getting dangerous."

"Yeah. I remember our call." Meera glanced back, causing her hair to slip over her shoulder. "I doubt you need twenty body guards if things weren't getting dangerous ."

Of course. She's perceptive. It made me more worried that she might find out just how much I've come to care about her.

"You need to promise me something." I said, twisting my ring. "Can you do that?"

"Depends on what I'm promising." She says, glancing down at my hands. "I don't intend to make promises that I can keep, Ivan."

"Okay. Here me out."

She looked perplexed. "Not the best way to ask for something but continue."

"Meera, I'm assigning a detail of security for you. All of my board members and my fam okay are getting one as well."

Meera sighed. She grabbed her jacket and back from where it was sitting on the chair. "I'm going to assume that you asked me instead of demanding me." She said. "My answer is no."

She took a step in. I could smell the disinfectant and her perfume rolling off of her skin. Meera's eyes burned bright, a glimmer or a spark of anger that shone in her eyes. She was unhappy, who wouldn't be?

A strand of her hair had come loose. I reached my hand out and pushed it back behind her ear. I let my touch linger before pulling away. "I can't let anything happen to you." I admitted. "As long as you're safe, that's all that matters."

This was the closest I've ever come to spilling everything out. I was afraid that if I said another word, she'd run away.

"Ivan. You shouldn't concern yourself about me." She stated. "I'm not worth that much trouble. Trust me when I say that I can't take care of myself. I live with Nat, remember."

"You are. You are definitely worth it." I reached out my hand and cupped her cheek. I can't help but reach out to her. "And you're not trouble. Not to me."

"Ivan, it's impossible to keep my distance from you when you do that." She groaned. Meera stepped away, her hands running through her hair, messing it up further. She throws me a half frustrated, half incredulous glance through her eyelashes. "I don't understand you sometimes, Ivan."

"I fail to see what's so confusing." I said, frowning, throwing my arm over the back of the chair. "I care about you, damnit! Is that really so difficult to understand?!"

"Yeah, we'll.....So do I!" She stopped and turned around abruptly, the tops of her ear turning red. "But why? what do you know about me? How could you trust me so quickly? God, it so hard when I—!" Meera closed her mouth, turned around and proceeded to put on her jacket. "I shouldn't say that but....You're so wonderful, Ivan, and you make me happy. I'm just really scared right now, you can't tell but I am."

She didn't know that I could see her face in the reflection of the mirror. Meera bit down on her bottom lip, looking a bit embarrassed. I noticed how she fiddled with her pendent, twisting the slicer chain around her finger.

I looked away, smiling.

Meera huffed and finally grabbed her black bag. She trudged up to me, waiting for me to open the door.

I shifted my eyebrows up, waiting for her answer.

"Fine," she said, looking less than happy. "If it gives you some peace of mind, I'll accept it."

I sighed internally. "That's all I want."

"You're way to good at this."

"I am a business man, Meera. What did you expect."

"Yes, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're too smart for your own good."

Meera walks past me but she stops, placed her hand on my cheek. I turn my head, her hand guiding my face. At first, I thought she would kiss me. I lean in till put faces are centimeters apart, eyes half closed and waiting for her to close the gap between us.

One kiss from her would be enough make me want to live.

Meera smiles softly and chuckled. She stands up on her toes and pressed a kiss to my forehead instead. Just a gentle brush of her lips but it felt like it was being seared to my skin.

I've learned something. I was starting to get addicted to her kisses. No matter how chaste they were, it made my heart pulse harder.

When She pulls away, her hand still on my cheek. I place my hand over hers, wishing that she didn't have to leave.

I felt starved. Her touch was always gentle, never uncomfortable.

I wished she would do that again. I wished she would do that all the time.

"You're a good man, Ivan." She says. I know in my heart that her words are sincere. "I know I say that a lot but you are. Even if you brood like a 19th century protagonist."

I smile gently at her. "I'll believe that one day, Meera."

"Stay safe."

Before I can even say anything, she slips away. The audible click of the door closing is all that lets me know that she had been here. I groaned and scrub my palm down my face. If only she knew the type of power that she had over me. It was dangerous but for her, I was willing to do anything.

And that.....that was dangerous.