CHAPTER FIVE: The Fault Line
1272 Words
Smoke still hung in the air when they reached the warehouse.
The building was half gone. Fire trucks stood nearby, but the flames were already dying. What remained was black steel and broken glass.
Anya stepped out of the car behind the brothers. The heat brushed her face.
Dmitri walked ahead first. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched.
“Anyone inside?” he demanded.
“One guard injured,” a man answered. “No deaths.”
Alexei nodded once. “Good.”
Nikolai studied the damage. “This wasn’t random.”
“No,” Anya said quietly. “It was precise.”
Dmitri turned to her. “You’ve seen this before?”
She looked at the blown-out corner of the building.
“Yes.”
“How?” he pressed.
She kept her voice steady. “My father doesn’t waste resources. He makes statements.”
Alexei glanced at her. “What is he saying?”
“That he knows I’m here.”
Silence fell between them.
Dmitri exhaled sharply. “Then he moves faster than we thought.”
Nikolai crouched near a piece of twisted metal. “The charge was placed inside. Someone had access.”
That word settled heavy.
Access.
Dmitri straightened slowly. “You think we have a traitor.”
Anya did not answer right away.
Instead, she walked closer to the building. The ground was uneven. Ash coated her shoes.
She felt lightheaded for a moment but ignored it.
“He won’t strike blindly,” she said. “If this is internal, he’s testing loyalty.”
Alexei stepped beside her. “And if it isn’t?”
“Then he wants you angry,” she replied. “Angry men make mistakes.”
Dmitri gave a humorless smile. “I don’t make mistakes.”
She looked at him. “Everyone does.”
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
A medic walked past carrying equipment. The sharp smell of chemicals mixed with smoke.
Anya swallowed hard. Her stomach twisted suddenly.
She stepped back.
Nikolai noticed first. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly.
“You’re not,” Alexei said.
The ground seemed to shift under her feet. The noise around her faded for a second.
Dmitri caught her arm before she stumbled.
“I said I’m fine,” she insisted, pulling away.
Alexei’s voice turned firm. “Enough. We’re leaving.”
“I can stand,” she said.
“Good,” Dmitri replied. “Stand in the car.”
She glared at him but did not argue.
The ride back was quiet.
Anya leaned her head against the window. Her mind replayed the explosion. The timing. The message.
He knows.
The thought circled like a shadow.
When they reached the estate, Alexei turned to one of the guards.
“Call the doctor.”
“That’s not necessary,” Anya said immediately.
“It is,” Nikolai answered.
She stepped out of the car without waiting for help.
Inside, the house felt colder than usual.
Dmitri followed close behind her. “You don’t look weak.”
“I’m not,” she snapped.
“Then stop swaying.”
She froze.
“I am not swaying.”
He held her gaze for a moment.
Then he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t have to prove yourself every second.”
The words caught her off guard.
Before she could respond, Alexei entered the room.
“The doctor is on his way,” he said.
Anya crossed her arms. “This is unnecessary.”
“You nearly collapsed,” Nikolai replied.
“I was tired.”
“You don’t get tired at explosions,” Dmitri muttered.
She ignored him and walked toward the stairs.
Halfway up, dizziness hit again. Stronger this time.
Her hand gripped the railing.
Alexei was beside her in seconds.
“That’s enough,” he said quietly.
“I said—”
Her words cut off as her vision blurred.
The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the sofa in the study. A glass of water rested in her hand.
The doctor stood in front of her. Older. Calm.
“Stress,” he said gently. “Lack of rest.”
“I told you,” she muttered.
He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe that.
“I’ll need a blood sample,” he added.
Dmitri frowned. “For stress?”
“For certainty,” the doctor replied.
Anya stiffened.
“That won’t be necessary,” she said.
Alexei’s voice came low but firm. “It will.”
She met his eyes.
For a second, something unreadable passed between them.
Then she looked away.
“Fine.”
The needle was quick. Efficient.
No one spoke while the doctor worked.
After he left, silence filled the study.
Dmitri paced once across the room. “This is inconvenient.”
Anya looked at him sharply. “Excuse me?”
“You collapsing during an attack,” he clarified. “It sends the wrong message.”
She stood up slowly. “I am not your weakness.”
Nikolai stepped between them before the tension could rise further.
“No one said you were,” he said calmly.
Dmitri stopped pacing. “Not yet.”
The words hung there.
Anya’s expression went still.
Alexei watched her carefully. “If you are hiding something, now is the time.”
Her pulse quickened, but her face stayed controlled.
“I’m not hiding anything that concerns your war,” she said.
“That’s not an answer,” Dmitri replied.
“It is the only one you’re getting.”
Alexei’s eyes did not leave her.
“Very well,” he said finally. “We wait for the results.”
Anya nodded once.
But inside, something had begun to unravel.
Later that evening, she stood alone on the balcony. The air was cold against her skin.
Below, guards moved along the walls.
Her father had struck first.
That meant he was nervous.
Good.
Footsteps approached behind her.
Nikolai stepped outside.
“You were right,” he said quietly. “The explosion was meant to provoke.”
“I know.”
He leaned against the railing beside her.
“You didn’t seem surprised.”
“I wasn’t.”
He studied her profile. “There’s something else.”
She did not look at him.
“Everyone in this house has secrets,” she said.
“Yours could affect all of us.”
“And yours don’t?”
A small pause followed.
He didn’t argue.
Inside the house, a door opened downstairs. Voices murmured. The doctor had returned.
Anya felt it before anyone spoke.
A shift.
Nikolai glanced toward the hallway.
Alexei’s voice carried faintly.
“Are you certain?”
The doctor’s reply was too quiet to hear.
Dmitri said something sharp.
Anya’s stomach tightened.
Nikolai looked back at her slowly.
“Stay here,” he said.
She didn’t.
She walked past him and down the hallway.
The study door was half open.
Alexei stood with his back to her. Dmitri faced the doctor. Nikolai stepped in behind her.
The doctor cleared his throat.
“There’s no internal injury,” he said carefully. “But there is something else.”
Alexei turned slightly.
“What?” Dmitri demanded.
The doctor hesitated only a second.
“She’s pregnant.”
The word echoed in the room.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Sharp.
Dmitri went still.
Nikolai’s expression changed.
Alexei looked at Anya.
Not angry.
Not shocked.
Calculating.
Anya’s heartbeat roared in her ears.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Dmitri asked the question that mattered.
“Is it ours?”
And just like that, the war shifted again.
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