“Hold onto the parts of me worth saving, even after you see what I’m capable of?”
His smile is sad but genuine. “You’re my sister, Kira. Nothing changes that.”
“Even treason?”
“Even treason.”
I stand to leave, but pause at the door. “Nicolai?”
“Yeah?”
“Take care of Misha and Zoya. Whatever happens, make sure they understand that this wasn’t their fault. That they couldn’t have prevented it.”
“And Father? What do I tell him when he asks where his children went?”
“Tell him they grew up.”
I leave him standing in his perfect office, surrounded by the careful order that will soon be swept away by the chaos I’m about to unleash. Behind me lies the last conversation I’ll ever have as Vadim Petrov’s dutiful daughter.
Ahead of me lies everything I’ll have to become to survive what comes next.
It’s time to find out if love is worth transformation's price.
Even if that transformation costs me everything I used to be.
CHAPTER 38
Rafa
Vito’sprivate study feels like a war room tonight—maps of the city spread across his desk, phones positioned within easy reach, the kind of controlled tension that precedes decisive action. Kira sits across from him with perfect posture, every inch the Bratva Heiress, even as she outlines the destruction of her own father.
“The location is perfect,” she’s saying, pointing to a spot on the harbor map. “Warehouse District, Pier 23. Isolated enough for privacy, accessible enough that neither party will feel trapped.”
“Security?” Vito asks, his tone purely professional despite the magnitude of what we’re discussing.
“Minimal on both sides,” I reply. “The fabricated message from Durov specifically requests a small meeting—only principals and essential protection.”
“Meaning Vadim will bring Alexei, nothing more.”
“Exactly. He thinks he’s walking into a final coordination meeting before eliminating us. He won’t want unnecessary witnesses to the planning session.”
Vito studies the photographs we’ve assembled—surveillance shots of the proposed location, communication logs fromDurov’s compromised systems, financial records documenting the Petrov family’s betrayal. Evidence that would convince any reasonable person of the necessity of what we’re planning.
“The timing?” he asks.
“Tomorrow night, eleven PM,” Kira answers. “Late enough to ensure minimal civilian traffic, early enough that everyone involved will be sharp and focused.”
“And afterward?”
“Afterward, the Petrov organization needs immediate leadership to prevent chaos,” I say carefully. “Someone the surviving members will respect and follow.”
Vito’s eyes move to Kira with a calculating assessment. “Someone with a legitimate claim to succession.”
“Someone who understands that the future requires cooperation rather than elimination,” she adds quietly.
For twenty minutes, we walk through every detail—entry and exit strategies, communication protocols, contingency plans for variables we can’t control. Vito asks sharp questions, identifies potential weaknesses, and suggests improvements with the kind of tactical precision that’s kept him alive in this business for thirty years.
Throughout it all, I watch Kira perform with flawless professionalism. She answers questions about her father’s habits, Alexei’s likely responses, and the psychology of men she’s loved her entire life. Her voice never wavers, her composure never cracks, but I see the cost in the tightness around her eyes.
