Finally, Berezin nodded.
Elena smiled at Alek and me, but it was chilling rather than reassuring.
“You took an oath,” Elena said. “Not to my father, not to me, but to the bratva. That oath means we’ll stand with you tonight. But in return, you’ll deliver results. Jed Carter’s betting operations—the contacts, the infrastructure, the revenue streams, all of it.”
We didn’t have any of that. How the fuck did?—
“Cole Carter will deliver it,” Alek said.
Dmitri’s jaw tightened. He looked away, toward the walls, or the men standing along them, his expression twisted with an emotion I couldn’t interpret. When he looked back, his eyes were bright.
He started to speak in Russian then stopped, shook his head, and switched to English. “I wish this weren’t how it had to be, brother.”
“I know.” Alek’s voice was rough. “I’d do anything for her, for them,” he said, and my chest ached with the agony in his voice.
“Then we better make sure she survives to be worth it.” Dmitri gripped Alek’s shoulder hard.
“We move in thirty minutes,” Elena said.
“She might not have that long,” I said then immediately regretted opening my mouth.
Everyone turned to look at me. I’d barely spoken since entering the room, and now, every dangerous gaze in it was focused on me.
Berezin’s eyes narrowed. Why had I spoken up like I knew a damn thing about how long it’d take to get ready to storm Cole’s father’s building, or how long Eva had, or anything else?Fucking idiot.
“You’re a college student, a hockey player, who loves her,” Elena said, her gentle tone a startling contrast to the hardness of her expression. “Hoping to land a contract with the NHL—clean as a fucking whistle, good grades, and a brother working in New York finance. You’ve got a bright future.” She cocked her head and looked at me with interest. “And you’re willing to throw all that away?”
“For her? Yeah.”
“Brave,” Berezin said. He smiled at me without kindness. “Stupid. But brave.” He gestured to one of the younger men on the wall. “Maxim. Show Tristan how to hold a gun without shooting himself. If he’s coming, he needs to not be a liability.”
Maxim pushed off the wall. He was in his mid-twenties, white, with blond hair and brown eyes and covered in the same tattoos as everyone else. “Come,” he said with a strong accent.
“Twenty minutes,” Elena said, nodding to me. “And then we go get Alek’s girl back.”
I followedMaxim deeper into the building’s maze, to a room where racks of weapons lined the walls—handguns, rifles, things I didn’t even have a name for. Maxim moved through it like he was shopping, pulling down pieces with casual familiarity.
“Ever fired a gun?” he asked me.
“No.”
“Perfect. No bad habits to break.” He pulled down a handgun, checked it with movements too fast to follow, then handed it to me. “Safety is here. Trigger is here. Point, squeeze, don’t jerk or you’ll miss. Don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re ready to kill someone.”
Cautiously, I raised it, pointing it at the corner. He adjusted my grip.
“Good. When we go up, you stay behind me and Aleksandr. You stay behind any of us who know what we’re doing. You don’t play hero, understood?”
“I’m not leaving without them,” I protested. “Cole and Eva.”
Maxim studied me then nodded slowly and handed me a holster to wrap around my waist. I put the gun away, and he yanked a vest off a rack, eying it critically. “Put this on.”
The vest was heavier than I expected. Kevlar, I realized, because people were going to shoot at us—shoot atme.
My hands shook as I strapped it on.
Alek appeared beside me and accepted a weapon from Maxim, checking it with the same quick attention—muscle memory, like he’d done it a thousand times.
“Brother,” Maxim said, clapping Alek on the back. “It’s good to have you back.”
