Except for the Bratva men hidden throughout the crowd.
I spotted them if I looked carefully. A man pretending to read a map near the fountain, his posture too alert, his attention too focused on everything except the paper in his hands. Another man pushing a stroller with no baby in it, his eyes constantly scanning the plaza. A woman on a bench who’d been “reading” the same page of her book for fifteen minutes.
And Kirill. Somewhere close. I couldn’t see him, but I felt his presence like a physical thing. Knew he was watching. Knew he was probably barely controlling the urge to call this whole thing off and drag me to safety.
My hands trembled beneath my summer jacket despite the heat. I clenched them into fists, trying to project confidence I didn’t feel. Trying to look like Barbara Davis—scared, alone, desperate to appease her blackmailer.
Not like Barbara Petrov—protected, armed with Bratva backing, setting a trap.
Movement caught my eye. A figure walking across the plaza, moving with the casual confidence of someone who thought he held all the cards.
Sebastian.
My heart stuttered, then raced. He looked different than the last time I’d seen him in person, leaner, harder, his hair shorter and darker like he’d been dying it. But the walk was the same. The smirk was the same. That particular brand of arrogance that came from thinking you were smarter than everyone else.
He reached the center of the plaza where I waited, stopping just out of arm’s reach. Close enough to talk. Far enough to run if needed.
Always planning his escape.
Coward.
I threw the bag at his feet before he could speak. It landed with a heavy thud, fifty thousand dollars in cash, more than I’d ever given him before. The final payment he’d demanded along with the threat.
Sebastian’s eyebrow raised. He knelt slowly, unzipping the bag, checking the contents. His expression shifted from suspicion to satisfaction.
“Good girl.” He stood, the bag in hand. “I knew you’d come through eventually. You always do.”
“Take it and leave.” I forced the words past the fear clogging my throat. “Take the money and disappear. Delete the video. Leave me alone.”
He stepped closer, and my mouth went dry. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it pulsing in my throat, my wrists, my temples. Every instinct screamed to back away, to run, to get away from this man who’d terrorized me for five years.
But I held my ground.
“You’re always so good at pretending you don’t like games, Babs.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate, which made it worse somehow. “But we both know you enjoy this. The drama. The danger. Why else would you marry into the Bratva?”
I squinted at him, anger cutting through fear. “You called me. You blackmailed me. You threatened to release the video. How can I possibly be playing a game?”
“Because you’re here.” He gestured around the plaza. “In public. In broad daylight. Surrounded by….” His gaze swept the crowd, and I saw the moment he spotted the Bratva plants. Saw his expression shift from confident to calculating. “Interesting.”
My stomach dropped.
He knows. He figured it out. We were compromised….
Sebastian reached into his pocket, and I tensed. But instead of a weapon, he pulled out something small. A tiny remote control, barely bigger than a key fob.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t anticipate this?” He smiled, and it was the most terrifying expression I’d ever seen. “Did you think I’d just walk into a trap without insurance?”
“What is that?” But I already knew. Already felt the bottom dropping out of my world.
“This entire plaza?” Sebastian gestured with his free hand. “You’re standing in the middle of an art piece, sister. Mymasterpiece. One wrong move”—he held up the remote, thumb hovering over the button—“and boom! You’ll go home in pieces.”
The world tilted. My skin went cold despite the scorching sun. Explosives. He’d rigged the plaza with explosives. Had turned my trap into his, had planned for exactly this scenario.
Of course he had. This was Sebastian. This was what he did. He was always three steps ahead, always planning, always—
“I know Bratva and Zetas are working together against me.” His laugh burst out, sharp and cruel. “Your dear brother has fooled them both. They think they’re closing in. They think they have me cornered. But I’ve been watching them. Watching you. Watching Kirill play his little games with surveillance and tracking.”
He was enjoying this. Actually enjoying watching the fear dawn on my face.
