Myvoryare here. They’re ready to fight this to the end. This isn’t just personal to me now—it’s personal to all of us. Desya killed two of ours. He’s threatening to kill more.
And after that…
After that, he’ll turn his sights on Mia.
Like fuck am I going to let that happen.
Something starts to solidify in my head. A reckless, dangerous plan. No blueprints, just the hazy outline of it. It’s half-formed, but it’s unmistakably mine.
I turn to them, all of them. “You said you’re willing to risk it all,” I say. “If you stay, I’ll hold you to that. If not, the door’s right there.”
Not one of them moves.
Good.
“Then we’re going fishing.”
I take thevoryinto a private side room, deep in the chapel. The light is low, spilling from a lone bulb overhead, casting long shadows over our faces as I lay out the plan.
“You want to usebait?” Anton balks.
“Yes.” I steeple my fingers on the desk. “It’s the only way to smoke them out.”
“Clever,” observes Kazimir. “But we’d need something worth dangling in front of them.”
“How about the girl?” It’s Zhenya, blunt as usual. “They went for it once before. Maybe?—”
“No.” I’m already on my feet, voice low and lethal. It’s not a shout, but it strikes like one. “No one touches her.”
Zhenya blinks, then frowns. “It’s our best bet. Desya kidnapped her, didn’t he? It’s clear he wants her. All we’d have to do is?—”
My fists slam into the desk, and thecrackechoes through the room like a gunshot. Even the walls seem to flinch.
“No. One. Touches. Her.” I hook every single gaze in the room, leaving Zhenya for last. “She’smine.”
Zhenya swallows, shrinking slightly from me. “Fine,” she mutters. “No to the girl. Who does that leave, then?”
“You.”
She straightens. “Me?”
“He means all of us,” Kazimir interprets. “We’re the target. Makes sense we’d be good bait.”
Zhenya settles back into her chair, deep in thought. Anton looks greenish at the prospect of being dangled in front of the sharks. Maybe he’s regretting that he didn’t leave earlier. That he didn’t drag his sister with him and run for the hills.
Too late. They’re in this now.
Maksim wolf-whistles. “Bold move, boss. Shall we go over the details?”
“Let’s.”
We stay there for hours, ironing out the plan. By the time the sun starts sinking over the horizon, our trap is laid. Sharp, perfect, lethal.
We’re coming for you, motherfucker.
28
MIA
