Page 68 of Prey of the Bratva

Timofey’s grin widened. “Gladly.”

I exhaled slowly, knowing they would be fine. It was not possible to end years of enmity in one single day and through one single mission. Everything took time and patience. Across the table, Ilana caught my eye for a brief second. There was something in her expression I hadn’t seen in a long time. From what I knew of my sister, it looked like relief. A part of me knew exactly why she felt that way. Beside her, Elisse leaned in slightly, murmuring something under her breath that made Ilana huff out a quiet laugh. Even Zhenya Chernykh was sprawled casually in a chair, even though she was participatingin none of the planning. Clara, Iosif’s wife, breezed between everyone as if supervising a group project.

I didn’t let myself linger on anything, my attention shifting back to Misha at once. Always back to her. She finally looked up, blue eyes cutting through the room with sharp precision.

“Good,” she said, glancing between Timofey and Jarek. “If you two are done posturing, we can move forward.”

“We weren’t posturing,” they said at the same time.

She didn’t even react. Just turned slightly, reaching for another file.

“Anton Sidorov is here,” she said, placing the document flat on the table.

“Yes,” Sera replied, standing right beside Misha. “We have confirmation on the coordinates that were given to us by the two men in the warehouse. Although from the activity around the port warehouses, it seems as if he is planning to travel soon.”

“We also have intel that some cargo ships are arriving or have arrived, and they will be used for the transport,” Alina added.

“Yes. What matters right now is that we have confirmed the movement pattern. He’s not stationary for more than six hours at a time, but this location,” she tapped the map, “is his current operational base.”

The room shifted instantly, and everyone’s focus sharpened. This was no longer an adjustment. This was execution.

“Fortification?” Avgust asked.

“Moderate,” Diane replied. “Enough to deter casual interference. Not enough to expect a coordinated strike.”

“Which means he’s confident,” Avgust added.

“Or careless,” Nico said.

Misha’s gaze flicked to mine briefly.

“Or both,” she agreed.

That look lingered half a second longer than necessary. Then she turned back to the table.

“I think we are ready to attack and get to Sidorov before it gets too late. I will be leading the entry from the frontlines.”

No one interrupted her, and no one questioned it. Not her brothers and not mine either. That alone would have been unthinkable weeks ago.

“I’ll take the primary team through the west access,” she continued. “Surveillance will be jammed for exactly four minutes. After that, we assume visibility is restored.”

“I’ll handle perimeter containment,” I said. She didn’t argue or hesitate. Just nodded once.

“I’ll coordinate fallback routes along with Avgust,” Fyodor added.

“Done,” Avgust nodded.

Iosif watched all of this in silence and finally turned to Misha again.

“You’re certain?” he asked her. It was not a challenge but a question, and Misha met his gaze without flinching.

“Yes.”

A beat. Then he nodded.

“Then we move.”

That was it. No command override. No control asserted. Just acceptance. As the discussion continued and routes, timing, and contingencies were discussed, I found my attention splitting between the plan and the person leading it. I could not help but notice the way she moved through the room and the way people listened when she spoke. The way she didn’t raise her voice, didn’t demand authority, yet held it completely.