I looked at Mikhail incredulously. “That’s not happening.”
“Ella, please,” Mikhail stepped toward me, his face earnest. “My father is dangerous. If something happened to you—”
“She’s my daughter,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m going. End of discussion.”
The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I lifted my chin, daring anyone to challenge my decision.
After a moment, Declan nodded. “Alright then. Let’s gear up. We move in an hour.”
The next forty minutes passed in a blur of preparation. I was fitted with a tactical vest that felt impossibly heavy, given a refresher course in basic firearms from Mia, despite my telling her I knew how to shoot a gun, and briefed on plan B in case plan A fell through.
Just as we were finalizing details, Kat appeared with a tray of still-warm cookies and thermoses of coffee. “Fuel up,” she ordered, setting everything down on a table. “You’ll need it.”
I automatically accepted a cookie, though my stomach was too knotted to eat. The smell reminded me of baking with Nora, her little hands covered in flour as she helped me roll out dough. The memory hit me like a physical blow, and I had to turn away to compose myself.
Jake found me a few minutes later, staring out the window again. “Hey,” he said softly. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“It’s alright to be scared,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m terrified, too.”
I looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “You don’t seem scared.”
“Years of practice hiding it,” he said with a small, sad smile. “But trust me, I’m as scared as you are. Difference is, I’m also angry. And right now, that’s what’s driving me.”
I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. The fear was paralyzing, but the anger—the pure, white-hot rage at Alexei for taking my child.
“We’re going to get her back,” Jake said, his voice low and fierce. “And then we’re going to end this, once and for all.”
“Promise me,” I whispered, needing to hear the words even if they were just a comfort.
“I promise,” he said without hesitation, pulling me into his arms. “Nothing on this earth could stop me from bringing her home to you.”
I leaned into him, drawing strength from his certainty. For just a moment, I allowed myself to believe that everything would be okay, that this nightmare would soon be over.
Then Declan appeared in the doorway, his expression grim. “It’s time,” he said.
We followed him back to the library, where everyone was gathered for final instructions. The plan was relatively straightforward: Declan, Kane, and a team of four reapers (the men who took care of those that Declan needed taken care of) would create a diversion at the main gate, while Jake, Mikhail, and I would approach from the rear of the property, entering through a service tunnel that Mikhail knew about from his childhood visits. Connor, Mia, and Rory would follow a few minutes later.
“Once inside,” Mikhail explained, “we’ll locate Nora using the tracker. Jake will secure her while I deal with my father.”
The way he said “deal with” sent a chill down my spine, but I pushed the thought aside. Right now, all that mattered was getting Nora back.
“Communications check,” Radley said, handing out earpieces. “Channel two for the main team, channel three for the extraction team.”
As we prepared to leave, Wren approached me with a small package. “For Nora,” she said, pressing it into my hands. “When you find her.”
I looked down at the carefully wrapped bundle—cookies, I realized. The simple, thoughtful gesture nearly undid me.
“Thank you,” I managed, tucking the package into my coat pocket.
Outside, the snow was falling steadily, but not yet the blizzard conditions predicted for later. Two black SUVs waited for us, engines running. I climbed into the second vehicle with Jake and Mikhail, my heart pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it.
As we drove away from the estate, I looked back at the imposing mansion. The contrast between the safety and luxury we were leaving and the danger we were heading toward wasn’t lost on me.
“Forty minutes until we get there,” Declan announced through our earpieces. I looked through the windshield to see him navigating carefully through the worsening weather.
I closed my eyes, picturing Nora’s face—her smile, her laugh, the way her brow furrowed when she was concentrating. My beautiful, brave girl. I sent a silent promise that floated on the winds ofthe approaching storm… I’m coming, baby. Hang on just a little longer. Momma’s coming.
