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“How far are they willing to go for him?” I ask grimly.

Anton sighs, shaking his head. I wait, focused. I’m back in Bratva mode now, though last night softened me the hell up. Sharing all that with Serena changed me. She admitted it was wrong. Of course, it is. But she’s giving me a chance too.

Then the sex—no, the lovemaking. Fuck.

Leaving her last night was difficult. Every step made me want to turn back, hold her tightly, tell her we’ll make it work with her family. I’ll become Zoe’s stepdad, and we’ll live happily ever after…

But that’s not what she wants. Not yet. And those are the sorts of instincts I need to step on… Anton is looking at me as though waiting for a response. So much for being back in Bratva mode.

“Say it again?” I tell him.

“From what I know about his cops, they’re not shooters. They won’t cross that line. But lose a report or two? Stuff like that. He doesn’t need them for violence. He’s got his own army.”

“And we’ve got ours,” I growl. “We have to find a way to get to him. We need him somewhere he’ll have less protection. Somewhere he’ll assume he doesn’t need it. When he goes out to eat, or stops at a diner, I bet he doesn’t have three cars with him then.”

Anton looks at me bleakly. “Sure. So, we are going to hit him in public.”

I grind my teeth. Everyone knows there’s nothing useful that can come from that. That’s why Rafael sent unwell people after us, twisting and paying them, instead of armed men on his payroll. We’re a step above street-level violence. But he’s making it too damn hard to hit him.

“It has to be, doesn’t it?” I growl. “If he’s got an army on him everywhere else.”

“If we arrange a meeting, even in public, he will be cautious.”

“We could use Owen,” I mutter.

“He thinks Feds took Owen,” Anton reminds me.

That was what we sold them when we kidnapped him.

My cell phone rings. It’s Yaro. My blood runs cold. I can’t imagine him calling if everything is going smoothly.

“Yeah?” I say, answering.

“Your woman tricked me,” Yaro says, sounding impressed and pissed at the same time. “She got the kids and the women to scream at the top of their lungs. Made me think there was somebody in the damn apartment somehow. I had to clear it. Now, Owen and Serena are gone.”

“What?” I roar, slamming my fist on the table. “Why would she do that?”

“I’ve asked the ladies, but they don’t seem to know. They don’t seem too proud of it. But what was it they said? They trust Serena more than they’re scared of me. Almost warms the fuckin’ heart, aye?”

“Where is she, then?” I demand.

“No idea. She snuck past. Dmitry is at the club. Igor is off shift. Anton is with you.”

I hang up the phone, then call Serena. She rejects the call.

Serena: Busy right now. What’s up?

Nikolai: I know you ran. With Owen. What the fuck is this? What’s going on?

Serena: I need you to trust me. I’m going to make this right for us. I’m going to give us a chance.

I’m breathing through gritted teeth as my mind fills with disastrous scenario after disastrous scenario. I just can’t think of why she would sneak away with Owen. Then my gaze moves to her text from last night, the one about saving me. Is that what she was hinting at? And is that why I noticed her acting strangely a couple of times?

She’s convinced herself she needs to save me. But whatever it is, she could get herself killed.

I call her again. She rejects. Again. I try again, and this time, she answers.

“Nikolai,” she says. “I don’t have long.”