I should have ignored it. Should have killed the connection and let Damian’s assault proceed as planned.
Instead, I activated the microphone. “I’m listening.”
“Good. Then listen carefully. I’m requesting a meeting. You and me. Face to face. No weapons. No soldiers. Just family, settling family business the old way.”
“You ordered my execution. We stopped being family when you made me disposable.”
“You were never disposable, Elena. You were always the most valuable piece on the board. That’s why I needed you controlled.” His voice carried something I’d never heard before—genuine respect. “I underestimated you. I thought intelligence was your only weapon. I didn’t realize you’d inherited your father’s capacity for ruthless reformation.”
The mention of my father made my chest tight. “Don’t you dare speak about him.”
“Why not? He’d be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Destroying the empire I built in his memory. Using law to accomplish what he tried to do through negotiation.” Sergei paused, and I heard something that might have been regret. “Come face me, Elena. Let me explain what really happened to your father. Why he died. Who gave the order. The truth you’ve been looking for since you were twelve years old.”
My hand shook as I reached for the communication controls.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damian’s POV
The Catskills stronghold rose from the winter forest like a monument to paranoia—concrete and steel, flood lights cutting through darkness, guard towers positioned at strategic intervals. Sergei had indeed built this place as his final refuge. It showed in every defensive measure, every sight line, every kill zone carefully engineered into the approach.
But he’d built it expecting an army, not paperwork.
I watched through night-vision optics as Konstantin’s teams moved into position, shadows flowing through trees with practiced silence. Roman’s technical specialists had already disabled the electronic security systems. Mikhail’s intelligence indicated exactly fifteen personnel inside—twelve private security contractors and three hardcore loyalists who’d chosen to die with their master.
We’d give them the option to surrender. Most wouldn’t take it.
“Perimeter secure,” Konstantin’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “Ready on your command.”
I lowered the optics and checked my watch. 2:58. Two minutes until the assault window opens. Two minutes until we end the old power permanently.
Except Elena had just destroyed the entire tactical plan by agreeing to meet Sergei face-to-face.
“Status update,” I said into the tactical channel, keeping my voice level despite the rage simmering beneath professional composure. “Target has requested direct negotiation with Elena. She’s accepted terms and is en route.”
The string of profanity that followed from multiple brothers was impressive even by Bratva standards. I almostlaughed, considering how they sounded like she was an annoying sister of theirs.
“She what?” Viktor’s voice cut through the noise with cold authority. “Damian, tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I were.” I pulled up the GPS tracker embedded in Elena’s vehicle, watching the blip move steadily toward the compound. “She’s wearing a wire and carrying concealed weapons. The moment Sergei moves wrong, she’ll defend herself, and we breach immediately.”
“And if he doesn’t move wrong?” Roman asked, his tactical mind already running scenarios. “If he actually talks to her? Provides information we need?”
“Then we listen until he’s finished, and we kill him anyway.” I kept my tone flat, professional, hiding the terror that threatened to crack my composure. “The assault proceeds regardless of outcome. Sergei dies tonight. The only variable is whether Elena walks out alive.”
Konstantin’s laugh was dark and humorless. “You let your wife drive into a fortified compound to face a man who’s tried to kill her three times. That’s either confidence or insanity.”
“It’s respect for her autonomy,” I said, though it tasted like ash. “She’s not my property. I can’t control her choices.”
“But you can mitigate the consequences.” Viktor’s voice carried the weight of command. “Damian, you have tactical authority. What’s the play?”
I closed my eyes and ran through options, discarding each one as inadequate. Every scenario where we breached early risked Elena getting caught in crossfire. Every scenario where we waited gave Sergei time to execute whatever trap he’d prepared.
The only viable option was the one I hated most: trust Elena to handle herself while we positioned for rapid extraction if things went sideways.
“We let the meeting happen,” I said finally. “But we tighten the perimeter. Put sniper teams on every exit. Position breach units at optimal entry points. The moment Elena signals distress, we move with overwhelming force. Sergei gets his conversation. Then he gets a bullet.”
“And if Elena doesn’t signal?” Alexei asked quietly. “If something happens before she can activate the panic button?”
