Page 157 of Nemesis

A way out.

She found a new way out. Which means, she also found us a new way in.

I’m so shocked, it’s all I can do to stare back.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Ben asks, stepping far too close for my liking. I’ll never forget what he said as long as I live. I don’t care if the stress of his brother’s kidnapping drove the attack. One day, when this is all over, I’ll dole out the punishment he deserves.

“Thirty years ago, Popov’s new wife became fixated on renovating his house,” Octavia explains. “My mother managed to create a pathway out of the property during the rebuilding process. They never found it. She used it for years to sneak out without anyone noticing. And she used it the night she ran away with me.”

Ivan’s trademark smirk falters as he shoves his way to the blueprints. When he glances back up to me, the same thought is flickering between us. This could actually work.

“Seriously? We’re going to trust a thirty-year-old drawing?” Ben’s brows lower.

“The diagram is twenty-one years old,” Octavia snaps. “It’s dated to her final year alive. Neither her father nor my dad figured out how she got away, so Popov wouldn’t have known where the weakness lay. There’s a good chance that the passage survives.”

My hand squeezes her waist. This is something.

“How does the passage work?” Ivan asks.

“There’s a gap in the lining of the kitchen pantry,” Octavia says. “She’d wait for the ovens to turn on for dinner preparations so there was enough noise to remain hidden. The opening leads to a small area that used to be part of the old kitchen. They blocked it off, but it was never properly filled. That kitchen had a storage closet right…” she searches the blueprints, stopping with her finger on a junction that’s supposed to be a wall. “There. But here’s the thing. The way they extended the back of the house, it actually opens up right here, a few feet from the back gate.”

Everyone steps closer, crowding the table to catch a glimpse of her finger tapping the map.

“So, we send someone in alone?” Ivan asks, scratching his jaw in thought.

Octavia shakes her head. “Too risky. Back in the day, that part of the gate might have been left unguarded, but he’s expecting our attack. There’s no way it’s still bare. Our best bet is launching a series of distractions before the passage is used.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Nik asks with interest.

“Simple. He’s expecting a bride.”

My stomach drops.

“I’ll go in first to meet my husband-to-be. His note demanded I show at seven PM sharp, so dinner will surely be involved.”

And the ovens will be on. I suck in an impressed breath at her foresight.

“Then we’ll split our men and attack from both sides, just as he expects us to. No one will notice a single man hopping the back fence in a shootout. I’ll be keeping tabs on Popov while our inside man gets to Kirill.”

We’re all staring at Octavia now. This is the best plan anyone has dropped onto the table, but despite her brilliance, I can’t support it. The entire thing hinges on her walking into the enemy’s house and offering herself up as a distraction.

My strong, beautiful woman, reduced to a fucking distraction.

“That will get us to Kirill, but we’ll still be fighting his men with a fifty-fifty shot of winning the territory from the outside,” Ivan muses, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not at all,” Octavia says. “We’ll give our inside man a head start through the secret entrance, but then we’ll start slowly slipping our forces inside using the hidden route. Before long, we’ll have the advantage of infiltration and finish the fight from inside his walls.”

It’s brilliant.

But bile still rises in my throat.

“And how will you get out?” I ask, burrowing into her gaze. I can tell that there’s something she’s holding back, but I’m not sure what.

“I’ll stall. When the action starts, and he’s distracted by the fight, I’ll find somewhere to hide out until our forces work their way inside. If all else fails, I could take my mother’s passage.”

It’s still there. That slight twitch of her brows. The clench of her fingers. She’s holding something back.

“Now this is promising,” Ivan says with a decisive nod. “Let’s start running some specs.”