"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten where you belong," he says, stepping back to examine me.
"I never forgot," I reply, willing my voice to stay steady. "I just needed time to see clearly."
His smile is predatory. "And what do you see now?"
My heart is beating a million miles a minute. But for Enzo, for Luca, I will do what I need to do.
“That you’re willing to kill a child… a Bratva child?—”
“Tsk-tsk.” He shakes a finger at me. “Don’t blame me for putting your child in danger. If you need to blame someone, blame Luca Dante.”
“When does this end?” I ask. “You killed Lorenzo. You’ve pushed the Dantes back on their heels.”
He crosses his arms and studies me. “I’m surprised you don’t want revenge for killing your brother.”
“My brother kidnapped my son.” I shake my head. “This back and forth revenge is only going to destroy everyone.”
“All I ask is for Luca Dante. I have no beef with anyone else.”
I straighten my spine, trying to look strong and determined. "I'm not here to help you kill Luca Dante. I'm here to offer myself in his place."
Maksim's eyes crinkle with amusement. "You? You’re already Bratva. And even if you weren’t, we have no use for you.”
It’s not easy to hear how little he regards the role he and Lorenzo Dante forced me into.
I’ve always known I’ve been underestimated as a woman, as a diplomat. I’m a glorified pawn.
“You know, if you hadn’t kidnapped Enzo, we wouldn’t be on the brink of war. Really, Maksim, what did you think would happen?"
Maksim's smile fades. "All you had to do was get the information your brother asked for. Pyotr was right. Your loyalty isn’t to your family anymore."
“My son is my family and you kidnapped him!”
Maksim's eyes narrow and I realize shouting at him isn’t wise.
I take a breath to calm myself. "You abducted an innocent child to manipulate me. You speak of loyalty and family while using children as pawns."
“The child was never in danger.”
I shake my head.
“The Bratva used to have honor. We protected our own, yes, but we didn't target children." I've crossed a line, but I can't back down now. "Luca did what any father would do. What any man of true honor would do."
Maksim towers over me. "You dare speak to me of honor while defending the man who butchered your own brother?"
"My brother died the moment he threatened his own nephew." I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "Pyotr betrayed his blood family for power. Tell me, Pakhan, which man truly understood what family means?"
His hand strikes my face with such force, my head snaps sideways. I taste blood but remain standing, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall.
"You've become more Dante than Petrov," he spits. "A shame your father isn't alive to see what his daughter has become."
"My father would be ashamed of what the Bratva has become under your leadership." I touch my split lip as I wait for another blow.
A tug-of-war plays out on Maksim’s face—strike me or change tactics. He takes a breath and steps back, his face softening. "Pyotr was spending time with his nephew. I happened to call him to take care of something. There was nothing dangerous or nefarious. You should know that. The boy should know his Russian heritage, something you've clearly denied him."
The audacity steals my breath.
I've witnessed Maksim rewrite history before, transforming brutal acts into necessary evils, but this manipulation of my son's trauma won’t stand.
