Alexander stands. "I have contacts, I’ll get the family involved. They’ll fight for their Pakhan."
Robbie nods. "Let's bring him home. And Ivan too."
I clutch Goldie. "Please be alive, Daddy."
The city waits below, indifferent.
But we're not indifferent. Far from it in fact. I might be a sculptor, but this escape plan could be my greatest work of art yet…
Alexander pulls the sleek black sports car—another one from Ivan’s collection, low and growling, matte finish swallowing light—onto the highway.
The engine thrums beneath us like a caged animal, vibrating through the leather seats and up into my bones. Robbie is in the back, knees drawn up, clutching his phone like a lifeline. I’m in the passenger seat, Goldie on my lap, seatbelt tight across my chest.
The city has fallen behind us… now it’s open road, trees blurring past, the sky turning grey and overcast.
Alexander keeps one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. His face is still a roadmap of cuts and bruises, but his eyes are sharp, focused. He glances at me, then Robbie in the rearview.
“Okay,” he says, voice rough. “What the hell is the plan? Because if you think we’re just driving up to Caulfield’s estate and knocking politely, you’re both delusional.”
I swallow.
My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“We’re going to pretend we’re two lost boys,” I say. “Broke down or something. Need to use a phone. Caulfield’s reputation… party boy, boys, excess… he won’t be able to resist letting us in. He’ll think…fun. He’ll thinkeasy targets.”
Alexander’s knuckles whiten on the wheel. “You’re talking about walking straight into a predator’s den. You know what men like Caulfield do to boys who show up ‘lost’?”
Robbie leans forward between the seats. “We know the risk. But it’s the only way inside without guns blazing. We’re not fighters. We’re… bait. Innocent bait.”
Alexander snorts. “Bait that gets eaten.”
I turn to face him. “It’ll work. He’s arrogant. Thinks he’s untouchable. We play scared, helpless. He’ll open the gates. We find Viktor and Ivan, message you their location, and get out.”
Alexander stares at the road for a long beat. Then he exhales through his nose.
“Crazy. Reckless. Stupid.” A pause. “But… it might work. Caulfield’s ego is bigger than his security detail. If you can get inside, get eyes on them, message me immediately. Coordinates, layout, numbers. Do not, and I meando not, get involved yourselves. No heroics. You see them, you text, you leave. Understood?”
Robbie nods quickly. “Understood.”
I nod too. “Understood.”
But inside, I know it’s a lie. If I see Viktor—hurt, chained, bleeding—I won’t be able to walk away. I’ll do whatever it takes.
Even if it’s stupid.
Even if it’s fatal.
Alexander continues. “I’ve contacted the generals. They’re mobilizing. A small team, trusted ones. They’ll be driving up too, but they’re coming from different directions. Might take longer to converge. If we’re lucky, they arrive not long after we do. If we’re not…” He trails off.
Alexander doesn’t need to finish. I know the implications of this.
Robbie squeezes my shoulder from the back seat. “We’ll be careful.”
Alexander grunts. “Careful doesn’t exist in this game. Just fast and smart.”
The car eats miles. The highway narrows, turns rural—fields, dark woods, occasional farm lights. I watch the dashboard clock tick forward. Every minute feels like an hour. My mind races: Viktor tied up, hurt, thinking I’m safe somewhere. The thought makes my chest ache.
Robbie breaks the silence. “What if he’s…?”
