“I’m gambling on timing,” she said. “We make sure no civilians are anywhere near the demonstration site. The blast will wipe out the shipment and the men who arranged it. After that, Revenant’s leaders will turn on each other trying to hide from the fallout.”
Viktor crushed out his cigarette and grinned. “I like her plan. It burns the right people.”
Roman crossed his arms. “And what happens to us when Revenant realizes the Dragunovs are the ones who lit the fuse and we’re the ones who helped them?”
Katya’s mouth twitched. “They won’t.”
Lev’s quiet chuckle was humorless. “You really think we’ll get out clean?”
“I think,” she retorted, “that we’ll be alive. And for people like us, that’s as clean as it gets.”
“Well,” Roman quipped, pushing off the railing, “it’s insane. I like it.”
Katya arched a brow. “You’re in, then.”
He grinned. “Obviously.”
Lev sighed. “Of course we are.”
“Me too,” I added.
For a moment no one spoke. I looked from one Markov brother to the other—Roman’s smirk already forming, Lev’s jaw set in silent resolve, Dmitri’s eyes dark with thought—and felt the ground shift under us again.
“We’ll give you the night to think about it,” Katya said finally. “Revenant expects an answer in the morning.”
Roman’s brows rose. “You meanyouexpect an answer.”
Her mouth curved up in a polite smile. “Same thing, darling.” She turned and gestured toward the sliding doors. “There’s foodin the kitchen, rooms upstairs. The view’s spectacular, and the system is locked down tighter than a presidential vault. I’d suggest enjoying the amenities.”
Lev frowned. “You’re not letting us leave, are you?”
She met his gaze without apology. “Let’s just say Revenant prefers their guests where they can be found. This floor’s security protocols are… particular. Elevators, stairs, even the service lifts are coded until I reset them in the morning.”
Roman gave a short, low whistle, half amused, half annoyed. “So, we’re prisoners in a penthouse.”
“Luxury has its limits,” Katya said, her tone too smooth to be mistaken for regret. “Try not to redecorate. Viktor likes the rug.”
Viktor smirked from the doorway, cigarette dangling between two fingers. “The silk ones are a nightmare to replace.”
Dmitri’s voice was quiet. “You really think a night makes a difference?”
“I think everyone makes better decisions on full stomachs and less adrenaline,” she answered. “You’ve all been running on fumes. Eat. Sleep. Decide if you’re willing to join me to start a war.”
She turned, heels clicking against the marble, and disappeared back into the penthouse. Viktor followed, flicking his cigarette into a crystal tray as the door slid shut behind them.
For a moment, the balcony was silent except for the wind. The city glowed below us, endless and indifferent.
Roman leaned his forearms on the railing, watching the traffic. “I hate being grounded.”
I folded my arms and sighed. “So, what now?”
Dmitri glanced back toward the city. “Now,” he said quietly, “we rest. Because tomorrow, we go to war.”
Roman exhaled, pushing away from the railing. “Fine. But if I’m going to be trapped, I’m ordering room service.”
Lev didn’t miss a beat. “Sure,” he said dryly, brushing past him. “Ask them to bring you a muzzle while they’re at it.”
Roman laughed under his breath. “You wound me, brother.”
