Page 166 of Betrayal and Vows

"Of course it's a trap," I agree. "But it's also the only chance I'll get to finish this."

"You can't be serious." She turns to face me fully, tears streaming down her face. "This is suicide. This is exactly what he wants—you walking right into his hands."

"He's right," Elena says quietly. "Vadim doesn't make deals. He doesn't negotiate. If he wants to meet, it's because he's planning something."

I look at the three faces staring at me—Dmitri resigned but supportive, Elena worried but understanding, and Lena desperate and terrified. My heart clenches at the fear in her eyes.

"This is what I've been preparing for my entire life," I say quietly. "Every mission, every kill, every moment I've spent in Vadim's organization has led to this. I know him better than anyone. I know his patterns, his weaknesses, his blind spots."

"And he knows yours," Lena argues, her voice breaking. "He knows exactly how to hurt you now. He knows about me."

"Which is why I have to end this." I cup her face in my hands, memorizing every detail. "As long as he's alive, you'll never be safe. We'll spend the rest of our lives running, looking over our shoulders, waiting for him to find us."

"Then we'll run," she says desperately. "I don't care. We'll disappear completely. Change our faces, our names, everything."

"And live like ghosts? Never able to trust anyone, never able to have a real life?" I shake my head. "That's not living,solnyshko. That's just a different kind of death."

Dmitri crushes his cigarette under his heel. "I'm going with you."

"No."

"Don't be an idiot, Anton. You'll need backup."

"I need you here," I say firmly, glancing at Lena and Elena. "Someone has to protect them if this goes wrong."

"When this goes wrong," Lena corrects bitterly.

The certainty in her voice cuts deep, but I can't argue with it. We all know the odds. We all know what we're really talking about here.

“I have a place,” Elena says. “Lena and I will go there. Dmitri, you will stay with Anton.”

“Of course, I will,” Dmitri shrugs.

“I don’t want you unprotected,” I argue.

“I have men,” Elena says.

I don’t like it, but if I want a shot in hell of killing Vadim, I will need Dmitri.

Elena stands abruptly, moving to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. She pulls out an object wrapped in cloth and brings it to me.

"This was your mother's," she says, unwrapping it to reveal an ornate silver cross on a chain. "She was wearing it the night she died. I... I took it from her before the fire spread."

My throat closes as I stare at the cross. It's tarnished with age, the silver darkened, but I can make out delicate engravings along the edges. Russian Orthodox symbols that speak of faith and protection.

I remember her wearing it all the time.

"She would want you to have it," Elena continues, pressing it into my palm. "For luck."

After getting the women stowed away, Dmitri and I tried to come up with a plan.

There was no plan. We knew the game. We would be outnumbered. All we could do was take out the top—Vadim.

Mikhail.

I might take a hundred bullets, but I would kill them.

“Ready?” Dmitri asks.