Including Kira. Including our child.
The thought makes my blood run cold.
"How many families are still with us?" I ask, forcing myself to think strategically instead of emotionally.
"Maybe ten, if we're lucky. And even they're wavering." Semyon pulls out a list. "Roman's message is effective. People are scared."
"How many men does that translate to?"
"Thirty. Maybe thirty-five if everyone shows." He doesn't sugarcoat it.
The odds are terrible. Worse than terrible.
But I've fought worse battles. The difference now is I'm not just fighting for revenge. I'm fighting for a future I never dared to imagine.
I start gathering the photos and putting them back in the envelope. I don’t want to leave them out where Kira might see them. The brutality would terrify her, and stress isn't good forthe pregnancy. She’s already struggling with morning sickness. It kills me that I can’t take away that misery.
My burner phone buzzes, which is odd because only Semyon and a few of his guys have the number. And he’s standing right in front of me.
It’s a text message from an unknown number.
My stomach drops. I know it’s not going to be good.
The message is simple:
We have something that belongs to you.
Then a photo loads.
My blood turns to ice.
Kira's father. Beaten, bloodied and tied to a chair. His face is swollen, one eye completely shut. Blood stains his shirt.
The timestamp shows it was taken an hour ago.
"Fuck." I show the image to Semyon. "They have him."
Semyon looks at the photo and shakes his head. "They're baiting you. Want you to come rushing in to save him."
"I know it's a trap." My mind is already racing through scenarios. "But we can't just leave him there. They'll torture him.”
Semyon doesn’t look all that concerned. “You’re upset about that?”
I’m not. Not really. The guy set me up to be killed. I only survived because some sick bastard enjoyed the idea of torturing me.
"He's Kira's father," I say quietly. "And our child's grandfather. Whatever his crimes, he doesn't deserve to be tortured to death."
"Sentimental."
"Maybe." I pocket my phone. "But Kira will never forgive us if we don't at least try to save him. And I can't—I won't—start our family by letting her father die when we could have helped."
He sighs. “Maksim. It’s. A. Trap. Period.”
I know it. I know it’s meant to draw me out. Kira and her father have a complicated relationship, but I know she wouldn’t want this.
"Is there a way to do this that doesn't get us all killed?" I ask quietly.
Kira and Anya are in the back room watching TV. Kira is resting after a particularly rough morning.
