Snow crunched under their feet as she led him deeper into the maze of St. Petersburg's side streets. The gun's pressure against his ribs had faded to something almost gentle, like a reminder rather than a threat. Her grip on his arm stayed firm, guiding him through pools of lamplight and shadow.

"Keep walking," she whispered, her breath visible against the cold air. "Don't look back."

Matteo's heart hammered against his chest, but not entirely from fear anymore. Adrenaline mixed with something else, something that made his skin feel electric wherever she touched him. This was insane. He was walking through enemy territory with a gun pressed to his side, and all he could think about was how her perfume smelled like winter flowers and how her fingers felt through his jacket.

Streetlamps cast halos in the mist, making the falling snow look like tiny stars. Flakes clung to her dark hair, and every few steps she'd brush them away with her free hand. The movement was unconscious, graceful, and it made something twist in his chest.

"You're Luca's brother," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Athan's son. That means you'll understand."

"Understand what? What do you know about Luca?"

She turned to look at him, and those dark eyes held something that made his breath catch. "What it's like to have someone telling you what to do. To want out."

They'd reached the embankment. The Neva stretched out before them, dark water reflecting the city lights like scattered diamonds. Snow fell harder now, creating a curtain of white that muffled the distant sounds of traffic.

She stopped walking and turned to face him fully. The gun was gone now, but her other hand came up to rest against his chest, right over his racing heart.

"I know what it's like," she said, and for a moment her accent seemed less pronounced, her voice carrying an ache that made his chest tight. "I'm trapped and I hate them and I hate this and I just want it to stop."

She took his hand in hers, squeezed it, and looked directly into his eyes. Her fingers were warm despite the cold, and when she smiled, it was real, vulnerable, a glimpse of something genuine beneath the surface.

A spark passed between them, electric and impossible. Promise and danger wrapped up in the space of a heartbeat.

But then, footsteps echoed off wet stone, coming from multiple directions. Shadows moved in the mist, figures approaching through the snow.

Her grip on his hand tightened for just a second, then released.

"They're coming. I have to run," she whispered turning away.

"Wait." The word burst out of him before he could stop it. "I don't even know your name."

She stopped and turned, smiled, sad and beautiful. "Anastasia."

Then she melted into the snow like she'd never been there at all.

Matteo stood frozen for a heartbeat, staring at the space where she'd vanished, his hand still warm from her touch.

Energy bolts suddenly lit up the night.

Blue fire streaked through the falling snow as figures emerged from the shadows on both sides of the embankment. Muzzle flashes strobed like lightning, turning the peaceful winter scene into a war zone. Matteo dove behind a stone bench as energy bolts sizzled past his head, leaving scorch marks on the snow-covered ground.

"Echo-1, get down!" Sabine's voice crackled through his earpiece, sharp with controlled fury.

More energy blasts. Someone screamed in Russian. Boots pounded against wet pavement as figures sprinted through the snow, firing as they moved.

The firefight was loud, brutal, and mercifully brief. IFC training versus whatever half-assed surveillance the Russians had set up. Sabine and the IFC teams moved like shadows with teeth. Within minutes, the Velvet operatives were retreating into the maze of side streets, leaving behind scorch marks against the walls of the canal and surrounding buildings

Silence fell over the embankment, broken only by the whisper of snow hitting stone.

"Matteo!" Sabine appeared beside him. "Are you hit? Are you injured?"

"I'm fine." He pushed himself up from behind the bench, brushing snow off his jacket. "I'm good."

"Good." Her voice could have cut glass. "Because when we get back to base, you and I are going to have a very long conversation about following orders and not compromising operations by thinking with your dick."

He should have been focused on her anger, on the fact that he'd screwed up royally and nearly gotten everyone killed. Instead, all he could think about was Anastasia's hand in his, the way she'd said his brother's name, the promise in her dark eyes before she'd vanished into the snow.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Matteo." Sabine's was distant. "What did she say to you?"

He stared into the swirling snow where Anastasia had disappeared, feeling her absence like a physical ache. The firefight was already fading into background noise, but the memory of her touch burned bright and immediate.

"She knew Luca's name," he said finally. "She knew about our family."

The private dining room at the Command Center of the Genesis Platform was designed for quiet conversations and negotiations. Rich wood paneling, soft lighting, the kind of place where billion-credit deals got hammered out over expensive wine.

Outside the viewport, asteroids drifted in their eternal dance around the belt, silent and cold. Nothing peaceful about this conversation.

Athan Rossi set down his fork with deliberate care. "You used my son as bait."

Karen Stevens didn't flinch. She'd been expecting this ever since the reports came in from St. Petersburg. "Matteo volunteered for reconnaissance. He knew the risks."

"Bullshit." Athan's voice carried the kind of cold fury that came from years of building empires and protecting what mattered. "You had people all over that city. Surveillance teams, backup operators, probably half the damn IFC special operations division. You could have triggered that meeting a dozen different ways."

"But none of them would have been as effective."

"As using an eighteen-year-old boy to draw out Russian operatives?" Athan pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against polished metal. "Jesus Christ, Karen. He's my son. He's a kid."

Karen's expression stayed level, but something flickered behind her eyes. Regret, maybe. Or just calculation. "He's also Luca's brother. That made him the perfect trigger for the Velvet Chain to reveal themselves."

"Perfect trigger." Athan repeated the words like they tasted bitter. "You're talking about my child like he's a piece of equipment."

"I'm talking about him like someone who can handle himself in the field. Which he proved he could." Karen leaned forward, her voice carrying steel. "He followed protocol, gathered intelligence, and survived contact with hostile operatives. That's more than most agents twice his age could manage."

"He survived because you had backup teams ready to intervene." Athan stood, pacing to the viewport. Asteroids tumbled slowly past, chunks of rock and ice that had been drifting here since the solar system formed. "How many people did you have watching him?"

"Enough."

"Then why did it turn into a firefight?"

Karen's jaw tightened. "Because they brought more people than we anticipated. They were scared and desperate. That made them dangerous."

Athan moved back to the table, leaning forward on his hands. "Scared of what? A corporate investigation? Or scared because they know exactly who they're dealing with and what you're capable of?"

"Both."

The honesty in that single word hit harder than any excuse. Athan sank back into his chair, suddenly feeling every one of his years. The weight of Maddie's death, of holding the family together, of watching his sons grow up in a world that seemed determined to tear itself apart.

"How far are you planning to take this, Karen?"

"As far as necessary."

"That's not an answer."

Karen drummed her fingers once against the table, then stilled them. Her tone softened, just for him. "You think I don't know what it would mean to lose one of your boys? I won't bury another Rossi, Athan. Not if I can stop it."

He held her gaze, searching for cracks, then finally looked away. "Barkov orchestrated the Genesis attack. That much you're certain?"

"I am. He tried to kill your sons and my crew. The UER won't touch him; they're too busy playing politics. That leaves me."

"So you'll tear half of Eastern Europe apart if you have to?"

"If that's what it takes."

"The Velvet Chain," he said finally. "What exactly are we dealing with here?"

Karen's expression shifted, became analytical. "Small adventuring company. Still independent, no UER affiliation. They're fewer than fifty people, barely more than a startup compared to what we've built."

"And they tried to kill my sons?"

"No." Karen shook her head. "They're tools, Athan. Barkov is using them, probably promised them contracts or threatened to destroy them if they didn't cooperate. The Velvet Chain is exactly what we could have been: small, ambitious, trying to survive in a world that eats independent companies alive."

Athan felt something cold settle in his stomach. "You think they're innocent?"

"I think they're trapped. Barkov gives them two choices: fold into the UER's corporate structure as a subsidiary, or get crushed when he takes over the IFC. Either way, the Velvet Chain ceases to exist as an independent entity."

"So he's using them to cover his tracks."

"Exactly. When the sabotage gets traced back to Russian operatives, it leads to the Velvet Chain, not to Barkov directly. And if the Velvet Chain gets destroyed in the process..." Karen shrugged. "Two birds, one stone."

"My boys don't get involved anymore," Athan said finally. "Especially Matteo. He's eighteen, Karen. Eighteen. He should be worried about university applications and girls, not dodging energy blasts from Russian assassins."

"He handled himself well..."

"I don't care how well he handled himself." Athan's hand slammed on the dining room table. "I won't lose another family member because they can't do their damn job."

Karen's eyes flickered. "You think I don't know what that would mean, Athan? I won't bury one of your sons. Not if I can stop it."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken grief.

"The UER should be handling this," he said, voice quieter now. "They should be investigating the attack, pursuing the perpetrators, making sure something like this never happens again."

"But they're not."

"No. They're not." Athan looked out at the asteroid field, watching chunks of rock and ice drift past the viewport.

"Which is why I have to act."

"I know." The admission came out tired. "I know you do. I just... I don't want my sons paying the price for Anderson's failures."

Karen reached across the table, her hand covering his. "Matteo will be safe. No more field operations, no more direct involvement. I promise you that."

"And if he volunteers again?"

"Then I'll tell him no."

Athan looked at her, reading the sincerity in her expression. Karen Stevens didn't make promises lightly, and she didn't break them.

"Good." He squeezed her hand briefly, then pulled back. "Now tell me what you found in St. Petersburg."

"We tagged six Velvet operatives during the firefight. We'll know who they are by morning and start unraveling Barkov's structure"

"And the girl who made contact with Matteo?"

Karen's expression shifted, became grimmer. "Anastasia Volkov. Eighteen years old. Parents died in the northern Moscow overflow during the initial portal crisis. She and her older sister joined the Velvet Chain in those first chaotic weeks when the System arrived."

"So she's not a professional operative."

"She's a survivor who got swept up in something bigger than herself." Karen set down her wine glass with deliberate care. "Her sister is one of the Velvet Chain's senior members. Probably the only family Anastasia has left."

Athan felt that familiar cold weight in his chest, the same feeling he'd had when Maddie died. "Another kid caught in the crossfire."

"Another tool Barkov is using." Karen said, her voice softening. "He's got leverage over both sisters."

"You think she'll make contact again?"

"I'm counting on it." Karen leaned back in her chair. "She's looking for a way out, and she thinks your son might be her ticket to freedom."

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