My lieutenant. My right hand. The man who has stood beside me through every battle and every hit for the last decade is dying in a basement. And it's because I put him in a decoy car. Because I underestimated my enemy.
"Keep him alive," I snarl. "Do whatever it takes. I don't care what it costs. If he dies, Doc, you better hope you know how to perform miracles on yourself."
"I'm doing my best, Boss." The doctor nods quickly, looking terrified, before slipping out the door.
Ivan steps in right after him. He has his laptop balanced in one hand and a tracking monitor in the other. He looks at the blood smeared on the floor, then at Helena sitting frozen on thecouch, and finally at me. He kicks the door shut and throws the deadbolt himself, locking us in.
"The tracker is active," he informs. His voice is low but urgent. "The signal is moving fast. They took the tablet and are heading North on the back highways, straight toward the Moretti compound."
Ice spreads through my veins. The adrenaline of the rescue is completely gone, leaving only the crushing reality of what I did.
I need to hear it. I need the harsh truth to ground me in reality.
"Tell me what I gave them," I say, stepping closer to him. "Say it out loud."
Ivan glances nervously at Helena, then back at me. "Boss, you don't need to do this right now. We need to plan."
"Say it!" I yell, the sound echoing off the thick glass walls.
Helena flinches on the couch. She pulls her knees to her chest and curls into a small ball, but I can't look at her yet. I stare at Ivan.
I need him to drive the knife in. I need to face what I chose to do.
He swallows hard and straightens up, forcing himself to look me in the eye to deliver the final blow.
"You gave them the master key," he says. "The tablet holds the encrypted return coordinates for theLady Anastasia.When that ship enters international waters, Moretti can use it to override our crew. He can lock the navigation and sail our entire lifeline straight into his own harbor."
Ivan grips the edge of my steel desk, his hands squeezing tight against the dark metal.
"And when it docks, he has the decryption codes for the crates. You gave him twenty shipments of military-grade RPGs, C-4 explosives, and automatic rifles. That’s enough firepower towipe the Bratva off the map. He can level this city. You handed him your key to the Throne."
I stare at the concrete floor.
I threw away twenty years of careful, painful planning. Squandered the vengeance I promised my father while I watched him choke to death on his own blood. I handed Don Moretti a loaded gun and pointed it at my own head.
And I did it all because I couldn't stomach the thought of that Italian pig cutting a single inch of my wife's skin.
"Get out," I whisper to Ivan. "Track the signal. Don't lose them. We only have a narrow window before that ship is loaded and turns around."
Ivan nods once. He looks completely sick with the reality of the war we lost. He leaves the office, and the lock clicks shut behind him.
We're alone again.
I turn slowly to look at Helena.
She's shaking violently. The white shirt she put on is ruined, stained with black soot, gray ash, and Lev’s bright red blood. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide. Tears finally spill over her lashes, leaving clean tracks through the dirt on her cheeks.
She heard every single word Ivan said.
"I ruined it," she whispers. Her voice is broken and raspy, cutting right through the quiet of the room.
"Helena."
"I ruined your life," she sobs. She wraps her arms tight around her bruised ribs like she's trying to hold her own bones together.
The dam finally breaks. All the terror of the Foundry floods out of her in a tidal wave of guilt.
"You built this for twenty years," she cries, her voice echoing off the glass. "And I gave it away in minutes! Because I was scared. Because I'm weak."
