Vivika is our shot at cracking open the Veche family to take what we need. She doesn't know it yet, but she's about to become the most important game piece on the board. And if she helps us, she could walk away from this a very wealthy woman. Or a very dead one if things go wrong. Only time will tell.
I find Yuri in his study with a glass of vodka in his hand and a map of the border regions spread out on his desk. He looks up when I enter and he looks tired. Months of fighting back against the Kozlov regime and hunting down his son's killers have strained him. Every time we get one victory—like taking out a witness who could've put his wife in prison for life—we take afew steps backward in another attack. It's like the universe keeps kicking us in the teeth, and it’s starting to wear on everyone.
"Dimitri called," I say. "The Veches are moving on Belarus. They're positioning to cut off our weapons routes entirely."
Yuri's jaw works as he grits his teeth and the muscles beneath his five o'clock shadow work. He sets down his glass and leans over the map where his fingers trace the routes that connect our operations to the suppliers we depend on.
"How long?"
"Days. Maybe a week."
"Goddammit." He straightens up and runs a hand through his hair. The silver at his temples has never been more prominent. "Yaros is getting bolder."
"Yes he is, and we have to push back hard…" I stalk toward him as he narrows his eyes on me.
Yuri looks at me, one eyebrow raised. "You have a plan?"
"I do…"
When everything lines up perfectly, the Earth sits in the shadow of the moon as the sun is eclipsed. Right now, Yaros is shining because he thinks he has authority to do so. But when the sun rises over Gravitch territory, the entire Veche family will see just what happens during an eclipse.
Luka Kolar will be enlightened. Yaros Veche will fall, and everyone with Gravitch blood coursing through their veins will celebrate that we've taken down those who would seek to end us.
"And it involves Ana Veche…" I tell him, settling in across from him at his desk as he takes his seat.
Using Vivika to play a part in this just sharpened into a double-edged sword. When I tell Yuri what I'm thinking, he will understand just why Ana Veche is the key to fixing every problem in our organization. And when we enact this plan, we'll never have to worry about whether our trades will go smoothly.
The only thing left after this will be hunting down the last few men who attempted to take us out, and I know Dimitri can handle that task on his own.
6
VIVIKA
Iwake on the third morning of my captivity with a plan already forming in my mind.
The light coming in between the curtains tells me it's early, maybe six or seven, and I lie still for a moment listening to the sounds of the house. I hear the distant clatter of pots and pans and the hum of some music from somewhere, probably Rosa making breakfast for whoever is here.
I slip out of bed and dress quickly, pulling on the jeans and sweater that Rosa brought me yesterday. The jeans are designer, fitted perfectly to my hips and thighs, and the sweater is cashmere, so soft it feels like wearing a cloud. They're just more props like the original pile of clothes Lev dragged in here trying to make me appear more and more like this Ana character. I'm starting to hate everything about this woman I've never met.
The only shoes I have are the cheap canvas ballet flats I was wearing the day they took me. They're scuffed and stained from the slush on the driveway when one of them fell off. They're outof place next to all this luxury, but they're the last piece of my real life I have left.
I slip them on and walk to the window.
Yesterday, it rained from morning until well past dark in a steady, cold drizzle. I stood here multiple times staring out at the constant rivulets of water streaming down the windows wishing it were a nice day. The trellis I spotted on my first day would've been slick and dangerous in the rain, and I'd have fallen and broken something.
But this morning, the conditions are perfect for me to slip out this window and past the dead vines snaking up the weathered wood. The trellis is right there, maybe three feet to the left of my window, close enough that I can reach it if I lean out far enough. From there it's a straight shot to the ground, maybe fifteen feet, and then I run, and I disappear into the countryside before anyone knows I'm gone.
I know it's a shit plan. But it's the only plan I have, and I'd rather die trying to escape with a shit plan than sit here waiting to find out what these men have in store for me. I don't want to pretend to be someone else, not even for a second. I want to go home and I want to tell the police about these psychos so they can’t do this to some other innocent woman.
I unlock the window and push it open and instantly shiver. I don't have my coat and the cold air slaps me. My breath fogs as I lean out and gauge the distance to the trellis. It's farther than it looked from inside. The gap between the windowsill and the nearest wooden slat is at least four feet, maybe more, and there's nothing but empty air beneath me. This isn't a shit plan. This is a fucking death trap, and I'm walking right into it willingly.
"I can do this," I encourage myself.
I swing one leg over the sill, my ballet flat dangling in the open air, and grip the window frame with both hands. My heart is pounding so hard, I feel like it might make me lose my nerve, and my palms are slick with sweat. I just have to reach out, grab the trellis, and pull myself over. One smooth motion. Don't think about the drop or what happens if I fall—broken leg, maybe a broken neck.
Shifting my weight, I prepare to lunge, but my shoe slips off my foot.
Time seems to slow as I watch it tumble through the air, end over end, until it hits the gravel below. And since it's early morning with zero traffic or even animal noise outside right now, the dropped shoe sounds like a fucking bomb going off.
