"This is fabricated," Bogdan spits out. "He's trying to save his American whore's father?—"
I'm across the room before anyone can stop me, my hand around his throat, lifting him from his chair. "Say it again," I whisper. "Please. Call her a whore. Call my future wife a whore. Give me an excuse."
"Dante." Yuri's voice is sharp. "Release him."
I do, stepping back and ignoring the pain in my side. Bogdan coughs. I see fear in his eyes now. Good. He should be afraid.
"Richard Quinn is innocent," I continue, forcing calm into my voice. "The evidence will show this conclusively. He's served this family faithfully for twenty years, and my cousin tried to have him killed to cover his own crimes. They are responsible for the death of innocent men they claimed to be involved in Richard’s theft."
"And what of Radimir?" a council member asks. "What is his role in this conspiracy?"
Radimir finally speaks. "I admit I questioned Dante's leadership. The elders are aware of my concerns—his youth, his American influences, his attachment to outsiders. But I never sanctioned violence against him or his family."
"You're lying," Alexei says from his position by the door. "Ivan's confession names you specifically. You approved the ambush, promised Bogdan support from the council once Dante was eliminated."
"A confession obtained under duress?—"
"Is still a confession when it can be corroborated," Yuri interrupts. "We have reviewed the evidence Dante provided in advance of this meeting. The financial records, the testimony, the coordination of last night's attack. The conspiracy is clear."
He looks at each elder in turn, and I see them nod one by one. Consensus reached. The decision was made before they ever stepped foot in Chicago. The betrayal is a fact. There’s no arguing it. In the Bratva, that means death.
"The council finds Radimir and Bogdan guilty of conspiracy against the pakhan, attempted murder of brotherhood members, and violation of our laws regarding family violence." Yuri’s voice is formal, final. "The sentence is death.”
Bogdan and Radimir erupt simultaneously, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of denial and rage.
"You can't do this!" Bogdan shrieks, lunging against his restraints. "I'm family! You can't execute family!"
"This is a farce," Radimir roars, his dignified facade finally cracking. "Dante has manipulated all of you! He's compromised by that woman, by his obsession with her?—"
I feel nothing.
That's the part that surprises me most. I expected anger, maybe grief for what we once were. Instead, there's just cold emptiness where my cousin and uncle used to exist in my heart.
They died the moment they decided Hannah was expendable.
“And Ivan?” I ask. I’m going to kill him anyway. I don’t technically need their permission, but I want to stay on their good sides.
“Death,” Yuri answers without hesitation.
"Take them back to the basement," I order my men, my voice flat. "The council will determine when and how the sentence is carried out."
"Dante, please!" Bogdan's desperation turns to pleading as Sergei and Mikhail haul him to his feet. "We grew up together! Remember? Remember when we were kids, when we?—"
"I remember," I interrupt, meeting his eyes. "I remember trusting you. I remember calling you family. I remember believing you had my back."
"I did! I do!"
"You tried to murder my pregnant fiancée." The words come out quiet, deadly. "You put a gun to my daughter's head. You betrayed everything we were supposed to stand for."
They’re dragged out, shouting insults and simultaneously pleading for their lives.
“Well, now that we’ve taken care of that, we have another meeting to get to,” Yuri says.
"Wait," I interrupt.
Every eye turns to me. This is the moment—the one I've been planning since Hannah first told me she was pregnant. I didn’t even realize I wanted it until this morning when Hannah washed the blood from my body.
I realized I wanted a different life than the one my father chose. I never wanted her to have to take another life or stitch me up again.
