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“We both know you don’t mean that.” Autumn playfully nudged me with her shoulder. “You love it.”

I sighed. Yes, I did. Don’t get me wrong, they drove me crazy 99 percent of the time, but I would change none of it. None of them.

I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her. The light from the sun shone down on her in the most perfect way, lighting up her red hair. My smile widened.

“What?” she asked with a chuckle. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just…enjoying the moment.”

She leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on my lips. It kickstarted my heart rate to 10,000. “You’re a big softie at heart. Do you know that?”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m the Bratva Butcher.”

“And I’m The Crimson Death. But today…” She kissed me again, her touch featherlight. “Today, we’re just Dimitri and Autumn.”

I’d never heard anything more perfect. “Just Dimitri and Autumn.”

Her eyes wandered to the scoreboard. She laughed, shaking her head. “Did Lukyan really think that would work?”

“Probably. Who knows what goes on in that delinquent’s head?”

I didn’t blame him for being a little upset about that loss. He’d managed, against all odds, to beat Aleksandr in the first round of tug-of-war. When it was time for the three-way body tug-of-war, his confidence had been soaring.

Illayana and Arturo had beaten Nikolai and Tatiana in their game. According to my son, Autumn and I were a couple of oldies, so he didn’t think we stood a chance against him and Lyla.

The game had been close. I won’t lie, I was actually a little worried he would win. The pulling, the back and forth…It was anyone’s game really. Then, Illayana had slipped, losing her footing, and she and Arturo went flying back against the pressure behind them. The sudden shift had caused Lukyan and Lyla to falter, and then bam, Autumn and I had won.

Aleksandr and Drea took home the next game, the wheelbarrow race, with Lukyan and Lyla coming in second, and Autumn and I coming in third. Aleksandr and Drea were in the lead…

So far.

There were still five games to play, and I had a feeling he was not winning the next one.

“Target shot is next,” Autumn said. Her lips pursed in thought, something troubling that beautiful mind of hers. “How easy should I go?”

“Don’t go easy. Those fools need to be brought down a peg or two.”

“But”—she chewed the inside of her lip—“what about Aleksandr? He’ll be pissed to lose.”

“He’d be even more pissed if he knew you held back.” Of that, I was sure. “Aleksandr wants to win because he’s the best. Not because it was handed to him. Don’t go easy. Trust me.”

All of my children were excellent shots, but there was no doubt in my mind that Autumn was going to take this one. In the past, Aleksandr had always won. This would be the first time he actually had solid competition.

He was either going to love it or hate it.

A few hours later, we were all lined up in the makeshift shooting range I’d had constructed behind the chalet. It wasn’t anything as glamorous as what we had at home, but it would get the job done.

At one end were ten tables, each with a 35-caliber handgun on the top. Roughly twenty-five yards away, directly opposite, were the targets.

It was a very good thing the chalets were all far apart from each other. Otherwise, we were probably due for a visit from the authorities.

Each of us had already taken our positions, waiting for Mikhail to begin.

My best friend, ever extravagant in everything he did, took his time, letting the suspense and excitement build as he walked down the line of tables, hands behind his back, that stupid whistle still securely around his neck.

“Here we are. Game Five. We are officially at the halfway point, and might I say, it has been an…interesting game so far. Let’s take a look at the scoreboard.” Said scoreboard was off to the side. Mikhail picked it up and held it high for all to see. “In the lead, we have Aleksandr and Drea, on six points.”

Aleksandr smirked, this of course we’re first air surrounding him. Lukyan and Illayana booed.