Chapter 28 #2
"Not them?" she laughed like someone unhinged. "She ruined my life! Because of her, you tore up the engagement! Because of her, my father shot himself! Because of her, my mother went mad! I'm the laughingstock! And you say it's not about them?"
"Those were my choices." I stepped forward, and every rifle swung toward me. "I broke the engagement. If you want revenge, take it from me!"
Hatred burned in her eyes.
"You think I haven't wanted to kill you?" Her voice dropped to a raw, hollow whisper. "Igor, I dreamed of killing you. But killing you would be too easy. I want you to lose everything. I want you to watch the people you love die. I want you to live the five years of pain I lived!"
Her barrel pressed at Elena's temple. Elena shut her eyes and mouthed something to me.
I saw her lips shape: I love you.
"Now," Natasha said, voice ragged with perverse delight, "choose, Igor. Your woman or your daughter. You can only save one."
Stella screamed from the cage, "No! Don't hurt Mommy! Daddy, save Mommy!"
"I give you three seconds." Natasha sounded like she was playing a game. The muzzle swung between Elena and Stella. "If you don't choose in three seconds, I'll kill them both. Three—"
Every muscle in me tightened. My brain chilled and moved like a machine, calculating distances, angles, reaction times.
"Two—"
Her finger tightened on the trigger, and the barrel settled at Elena's forehead. My heart hammered, but some part of me was fiercely calm. I'd imagined every move a hundred times.
My calf coiled like a wound spring. My left hand hovered, ready to signal the teams.
Then — "Enough!"
A low voice with a heavy Italian accent sliced the night. Salvatore emerged from the cabin in an expensive suit, a Cuban cigar smoldering between his teeth. Smoke curled in the moonlight. His hooked nose cast a shadow, and his dark brown eyes were hawk-sharp.
He stepped up to Natasha and forced her hand down.
For a fraction of a second, the pressure in me eased.
"Enough, Natasha." His voice was flat and absolute. "You'll ruin the stake before we collect."
Natasha ground her teeth and slipped the weapon back, stepping aside.
Salvatore looked me over, exhaled smoke, and gave a smile that carried meaning.
"Love makes a mess of a man," he said. "You look worn out."
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Straightforward — I like that." He moved closer; he was half a head shorter than me. "You know what I want, Igor."
A henchman presented a folder in both hands. Salvatore took it and continued.
"Here's a list of your East Coast operations: arms routes, laundering channels, warehouses in Brooklyn and elsewhere. Transfer them to me, and your woman and child live. Fair deal." He shoved the paperwork toward me and flicked ash.
I looked at the file. I didn't take it.
"I need time," I said.
"Time?" Salvatore raised a brow. "You expect to bargain?"
"I can't decide this alone." I stayed calm. "Bratva rules. A move this big needs a family meeting. I need to convince them."
He watched me, weighing whether I was stalling.
"Give me a week. I'll call the meeting and get them to agree. Then I'll sign everything over."
"A week's too long." Salvatore shook his head.
"Three days," I said. "Three is my limit. Less than that, I can't sway the old men."
He thought, then nodded. "Three days. But your woman and child stay here as collateral. Three days from now you bring signed papers and trade them. Try anything—"
"They'll die horrible deaths," Natasha finished, buzzing with excitement.
"No!" Elena cried out. "Igor, don't trust them—"
A guard clapped a hand over her mouth. Stella screamed into the cage.
My chest felt like concrete. I had to keep them alive. I had to wait for the right moment.
"Let me speak to them," I demanded.
Salvatore held my gaze for a long second.
"If you don't allow that, the deal's off," I said.
He stubbed out the cigar and blew smoke. "Fine. Don't try anything. My men will keep guns on them. Any move and they die instantly."
I said nothing and stepped forward to Elena. Two guards raised rifles and trained them on us.
I stopped in front of her and looked into her swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
"Igor." Her voice was raw.
I brushed a thumb across her cheek and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"Sorry. I should've kept Artyom at the apartment."
Elena shook her head. "Not your fault. There's a leak in your security. That's how Natasha's crew got in."
A traitor. My fingers tightened. I swallowed the flare of anger. Punishment would come later. Right now, the priority was getting them out alive.
I pulled Elena into a quick, controlled embrace. Guns were trained on us, but I didn't move further. I pressed my mouth to her ear and whispered, "Listen. I'll drop a blade into your hand when I can. Use it when the moment's right. Don't hurt yourself."
She nodded so hard it was almost a shudder.
With a small, practiced motion, I slid the sleeve blade into her palm — fast and invisible. I stepped back and pretended to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, keeping the gesture public and gentle.
Elena's hand closed around the tiny blade. Her eyes widened. She understood.
"Enough!" Salvatore snapped. "You took too long."
I let her go and crouched at Stella's cage. The little girl reached for me.
"Daddy! Daddy, hug!"
"Soon, baby." I slipped my fingers through the bars and took her cold little hand. "You were brave, Stella. Daddy's proud."
"I'm not scared," she hiccuped, trying to be brave. "Mommy said you'd come. When will we go home?"
"Soon, baby. Very soon." I kissed her knuckles.
"Business first." Salvatore's patience had run out. "Three days. You bring signed papers here. Any tricks and they die."
I rose and gave Elena and Stella one last look. Elena's hand was already working the blade against the ropes, making almost invisible, patient cuts at the fibers. Only I noticed.
Good. Everything was moving the way it needed to.