The silence that descended upon the Volkov estate after midnight was absolute. The house slept—guarded, but peaceful. The heavy stone walls held the sleeping breaths of our twin sons, the watchful silence of the guards, and the profound, quiet peace of a battle won.

Isabella was next to me, propped on the pillows of our massive bed. She had been gently watching me since I emerged from the en-suite after a long, necessary shower. I had shaved, cut away the weeks of grime and desperation, and ...