Her triumph froze for a second, then she tossed the knife to a henchman.
"Never mind," she straightened, smoothing her coat. "Even if you had more, against dozens of our guns, it wouldn't matter."
"Come in," she said, venom lacing her tone. "This is where you wish you were dead."
I buttoned my jacket slowly and walked to the center of the deck, cataloguing every rifle and position in my head.
Then I saw Elena tied to the main mast and Stella locked in the iron cage. Elena's eyes flared when they met mine, then filled with fear. She shook her head frantically, lips moving silently — Get out, it's a trap.
My chest tightened.
"Daddy!" Stella's voice cut through. She clutched the bars, eyes swollen but bright with faith. "Daddy, you came! I knew you would!"
"I'm here, baby." I kept my voice steady, though I felt like I was breaking. "Daddy's here to get you."
I wanted to run, tear them free, kill everyone. Instead, I held my ground. I needed cold control.
"How touching." Natasha drifted to my side, dripping scorn. "Such a pretty family. Shame—"
She raised the gun and aimed at Elena's head. "This picture's about to be ruined."
Every muscle in my hand clenched until my palms hurt.
"Natasha." The words ground out through my teeth. "This is between you and me. Not them."
"Not them?" she laughed like someone unhinged. "She ruined my life! Because of her, you tore up the engagement! Because of her, myfather shot himself! Because of her, my mother went mad! I'm the laughingstock! And you say it's not about them?"
"Those were my choices." I stepped forward, and every rifle swung toward me. "I broke the engagement. If you want revenge, take it from me!"
Hatred burned in her eyes.
"You think I haven't wanted to kill you?" Her voice dropped to a raw, hollow whisper. "Igor, I dreamed of killing you. But killing you would be too easy. I want you to lose everything. I want you to watch the people you love die. I want you to live the five years of pain I lived!"
Her barrel pressed at Elena's temple. Elena shut her eyes and mouthed something to me.
I saw her lips shape: I love you.
"Now," Natasha said, voice ragged with perverse delight, "choose, Igor. Your woman or your daughter. You can only save one."
Stella screamed from the cage, "No! Don't hurt Mommy! Daddy, save Mommy!"
"I give you three seconds." Natasha sounded like she was playing a game. The muzzle swung between Elena and Stella. "If you don't choose in three seconds, I'll kill them both. Three—"
Every muscle in me tightened. My brain chilled and moved like a machine, calculating distances, angles, reaction times.
"Two—"
Her finger tightened on the trigger, and the barrel settled at Elena's forehead. My heart hammered, but some part of me was fiercely calm. I'd imagined every move a hundred times.
My calf coiled like a wound spring. My left hand hovered, ready to signal the teams.
Then — "Enough!"
A low voice with a heavy Italian accent sliced the night. Salvatore emerged from the cabin in an expensive suit, a Cuban cigar smoldering between his teeth. Smoke curled in the moonlight. His hooked nose cast a shadow, and his dark brown eyes were hawk-sharp.
He stepped up to Natasha and forced herhand down.
For a fraction of a second, the pressure in me eased.
