He turns, gaze locking on mine. “Harper—”
“No.Listen.” I push off the wall, adrenaline pulling my spine straighter. “We upload Anton’s confession. The ledgers. His entire network of deals. All of it.”
“Harper—”
“Publicly,” I force out. “Not to the Bratva. Not to Iosif. Toeveryone.”
His silence is heavy but not dismissive. He’s weighing reality, and the consequences.
“She’ll retaliate,” he says finally. “She’ll burn every bridge we’ve ever stood on.”
“She already has.” I take a step closer. “But the truth is stronger than her theatrics.”
His eyes soften at the edges imperceptibly.
“You want to expose the entire Ignatov ledger?” he asks. “Global accounts, offshore routes—”
“Every deal your father touched,” I finish for him.
“My father built a cage,” he whispers roughly. “I’m done dying inside it.”
Water drips from the ceiling again, slower now, like the entire tunnel is holding its breath alongside us.
“We’ll need a live access point,” he says finally. “Something off-grid. Something she can’t overwrite.”
“There’s one,” I say. “In the old transit hub above us. Remember Anton’s emergency uplink? She’ll expect you to run.” I touch the drives again. “She won’t expect me to speak.”
Damian studies me like a man trying to understand the horizon while the storm advances behind him. He nods wearily, closing his eyes as he gathers his bearings. He steps closer, his hand rising and caressing my cheek. His thumb brushes away a smear of soot I didn’t realize was there.
“You don’t have to be the one to do this,” he murmurs.
“I don’t,” I answer. “But I want to.”
“You’re shaking.”
“Suits the background, no?” I try poorly at humor. “Survivors just keep moving.”
His expression is raw, somewhat a mirror of the thing breaking open inside me. Then he steps back, shoulders straightening with the kind of resolve that can topple kingdoms.
“Stay behind me,” he orders gently.
Like I ever will.
I stand beside him, our arms brushing. The drives at my hip no longer feel like a weight against my thigh but a guarantee of a future I could never imagine. We start moving up the long incline of the tunnel, the overhead lights flickering like they’re unsure whether to reveal us or hide us.
The air grows colder. The static in my headset crackles.
I know Inessa’s eyes are on the city above us now. She has probably overheard what Damian and I have discussed, andmy gut warns me that it won’t be long before we are ambushed again.
Inessa won’t back down, but she doesn’t know who the fuck she’s up against.
We turn a corner and the tunnel opens into a narrow catwalk suspended above an old rail shaft, cables dangling like thick vines. Pipes hiss with steam as if warning us to turn back.
Kiro’s voice crackles faintly in my ear—static, breath, then the clipped precision that means he’s fighting to keep the line alive. The relief of hearing him again is short-lived because he delivers exactly what I had been fearing.
“Two turns ahead. Then up. Move fast, they’re closing.”
They’re closing. Damian and I share a glance, not needing a clarification on whotheyare.
