She nods shakily. “Please don’t…don’t shoot him.”
Turner snorts, lifting his weapon. “Touching.. Did you plant a tracker on her so you could follow her here?”
Alexei’s voice is calm, cold. “You're one to talk—your own man kidnapped your own daughter.”
Turner’s eyes flash. “My daughter is safe, thank you very much. She's been your brother’s pawn long enough.”
The words hit like a punch, and I see Mireille flinch.
“That’s what this was, wasn’t it?” Turner presses, shifting his glare to me. “You get close to my daughter to gather intel on me. She means nothing to you.”
“No,” I snap. “It’s not like that.”
He laughs bitterly. “Then tell me what it is.”
I finally look at Mireille. She’s staring at me, eyes full of questions I never wanted her to have to ask.
“I won’t lie to you,” I say quietly, directing my answer at her, not her father. “At first, yes—that was the plan. You were supposed to be a way in. A way to get close to him.”
Her breath catches.
“But the moment I met you, everything changed. I couldn’t use you. That’s why I kept stalling, why I didn’t want to meet your parents. Because I didn’t know how to tell you the truth without losing you. Because I knew the moment your father saw my face, he’d recognize me, and it would all be over.”
She shakes her head, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
“I love you,” I say, the words ripping out of me. “You have to believe that.”
Turner sneers. “Then prove it.”
“What?”
“Put the gun down. Tell your brother to do the same.”
I glance at Alexei. His expression doesn’t change, but I know what he’s thinking. The Balshovs don’t lower their weapons for anyone.
“Dmitri,” Mireille whispers. “Please.”
The tremor in her voice breaks whatever resolve I have left. Slowly, I set the gun down on the table.
Alexei hesitates, just for a heartbeat, then follows suit, placing his weapon beside mine.
Sergei chuckles darkly. “Look at that. The mighty Balshovs brought to their knees over a girl.”
He steps closer, gun still in hand, eyes gleaming with something twisted. “You know, I used to think you three were untouchable. Royalty in suits. But you’re just men. Weak men, hiding behind your father’s name.”
Alexei’s voice drops, cold and lethal. “You should watch what you say.”
“Oh, I think I’ve earned the right,” Sergei sneers. “My mother never got that luxury, did she? You ever wonder what happened to her? The woman Yuri Balshov was with before he married your perfect mother?”
His words stop me cold. “What are you talking about?”
Sergei’s smirk widens, cruel and humorless. “She disappeared. Right before your father’s wedding. The great Yuri Balshov made her vanish like she never existed. But I remember her. I remember every story she told me. And I remember her saying Yuri promised to come back for her. For us.”
Alexei’s expression tightens, though he stays controlled. “You think our father killed her?”
“I know he did,” Sergei spits. “Or had her killed to keep his new bride happy. You three got the perfect life, the power, the name. And me? I got nothing but a ghost for a mother and a rumor for a father.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
