Chapter 18
Lev
"And her brother?"
Internal bleeding. Broken bones. Weeks of torture.
The kid is seventeen. A college student whose only crime was having a father stupid enough to work for Patrick O'Rourke.
Using innocents as leverage is unforgivable.
That's why I'm doing this. Not for Valerie, not for redemption, not for forgiveness.
I'm doing it because Patrick's methods are cruel. Because using civilians creates loose ends. Because the Bratva has rules, and terrorizing families falls outside acceptable parameters.
That's what I tell myself.
"Extraction teams?" I ask.
"Ready. Yaroslav will take the mother. Four men, unmarked vehicles, in and out in under five minutes. Viktor handles the brother—medical team standing by, trauma surgeon on call at the safe house."
"Did you stock the house as ordered?"
"Yes. Fully stocked, secure, off-grid. Patrick won't find them there."
I study the schematics. The timing has to be perfect. Extract Valerie's family simultaneously while Patrick focuses on the fake supply route. Hit his compound while his forces are spread thin chasing ghosts.
"Timeline still remains the same?"
"Yes. According to the intel Valerie fed him, we have an eight-hour window to gut his operation before he realizes he's been played."
"His compound?"
Mikhail pulls up new images. "Warehouse complex in Red Hook. The main building houses his office, armory, and holding cells. Two auxiliary structures for storage and operations. An estimated forty men are on site at any given time, but with twenty pulled for the ambush, that drops to twenty."
"Twenty against our full team."
"Overwhelming force. Exactly how you wanted it."
I lean back, mind calculating angles. "I want Patrick alive. Everyone else dies, but him? I want him breathing."
"Understood. What about the girl?"
Valerie. Locked in my basement. Waiting to find out whether she lives or dies, depending on how tonight goes.
"She stays where she is until this is over."
"And after?"
Good question. I told her she's leaving. Taking her family and disappearing. Never seeing Mila again.
The thought of Mila's face when she realizes Valerie's gone makes my chest tight.
But keeping her here? After the betrayal? After the lies?
Impossible.
"She leaves." My voice is flat. "Her family gets relocated, she gets money to start over, and I never see her again."
Mikhail studies me. "You sure about that?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you look like a man who hasn't decided anything." He crosses his arms. "Because I saw your face when she called you a monster. When she said she could never fall for someone like you. That hurt you."
"I don’t care what she said about me, and I definitely was not hurt."
"Are you sure?" He tilts his head. "Because you looked like you wanted to believe it was an act but couldn't quite manage it."
I don't answer. Because he's right and I hate it.
"Doesn't matter what it was." I push away from the desk. "After tonight, she's gone. That's final."
"If you say so, Boss."
The teams deploy at 5:45 AM.
I watch from the command center as multiple screens display feeds from body cameras, thermal imaging, and satellite surveillance. Yaroslav's team approaches the apartment building. Viktor's team positions itself around the warehouse where Ethan is held.
"Team One in position." Yaroslav's voice through comms, calm and professional.
"Team Two ready." Viktor sounds tenser. He's got the harder extraction, an injured hostage who is in an unknown condition, and guards who will be trigger-happy.
"Execute." I give the order and watch it unfold.
Team One moves fast. Breach the apartment door with a battering ram. Two guards inside react, but they're overwhelmed in seconds, suppressed gunfire, bodies dropping. Yaroslav appears in frame, talking to someone off-camera.
Valerie's mother. Small woman, terrified, clutching a photo frame to her chest.
"Ma'am, I need you to come with me right now." Yaroslav's voice is gentle but firm. "Your daughter sent us. You're not safe here."
She's asking questions I can't hear. Yaroslav doesn't answer, just guides her toward the exit.
Ninety seconds. In and out.
Clean.
Team Two is messier.
They breach the warehouse and immediately take fire. One guard down in the doorway, the second retreating deeper inside. Viktor's team pursues, camera feeds showing a chaotic interior—surgical equipment, a metal chair with restraints, blood staining concrete.
Ethan Novak is on the floor in the corner. Barely conscious. Face so swollen I wouldn't recognize him from Valerie's photos.
The second guard makes a stand near the back exit. Exchanges fire with Viktor's team for thirty seconds before taking three rounds to the chest.
Then it's over.
Viktor kneels beside Ethan, checking vitals. "He's breathing. Barely. Multiple fractures, possible internal bleeding. Need medical immediately."
"Evac now." I watch the team load Ethan. He doesn't wake. Just lies there broken and bleeding while my men carry him to safety.
Seventeen years old.
Patrick fucking did this to a kid.
The rage that's been simmering since Valerie's confession burns hotter.
Both teams report successful extraction within ten minutes. En route to the safe house. No casualties on our side.
"Doctor Laz is standing by," Mikhail reports. "He'll stabilize the kid, then we move him to a proper facility once it's safe."
"Good." I check the time. 6:15 AM. Patrick's ambush on our fake convoy is scheduled for 2 AM tonight. That gives us nineteen hours to prepare.
"Assemble the strike team. Full tactical loadout. I want fifty men ready to move by midnight."
"Fifty? For twenty targets?"
"I want overwhelming force. I want this over in minutes. And I want Patrick so terrified by the time we reach him that he'll tell me everything I want to know just to make it stop."
Mikhail grins. "Now that sounds like the boss I know."
The day drags. Preparations, briefings, weapons checks. I run through scenarios, contingencies, and backup plans. Make sure every angle is covered.
Around 8 PM, I finally have a moment to breathe.
And realize I haven't thought about Valerie in hours. Haven't checked on her. Haven't sent food or water since Mikhail's delivery this morning.
I should leave her there. Let her suffer. She earned it.
But my feet carry me toward the basement anyway.
She's sitting on the cot when I enter, arms wrapped around herself against the cold. She looks up, and the hope that flashes across her face before she can hide it does something to my chest.
"Is Ethan…" She stands quickly. "Did you find him? Is he—"
"Alive." I stay by the door. "Extracted at 0600 hours. Currently receiving medical treatment at a secure location. Your mother is with him."
The relief that crashes over her is visceral. She actually staggers and has to catch herself on the cot.
"Thank you." Her voice breaks. "God, thank you so much."
"I didn't do it for you." The words come out harsher than intended. "I did it because Patrick's methods are unacceptable. Using civilians, torturing kids, that crosses lines even we don't cross."
"Still. You saved him. You saved them both." Tears stream down her face. "I know I don't deserve it, I know you hate me, but thank you."
I don't hate her. That's the problem.
"Patrick hits our fake convoy at 0200." I change the subject before I can examine those feelings too closely. "We strike his compound simultaneously. By dawn, his entire operation will be ash."
I study her. Bruised face from where she fell. Swollen eye. Split lip. She looks broken. Exactly how I feel.
"If this goes wrong—if Patrick somehow turns the tables, if I don't make it back—Mikhail has orders."
"W-What orders?"
"To let you go. To take Mila somewhere safe. Raise her." The words cost me more than I expected. "Keep her away from this life. Give her something normal."
Valerie stares at me like I've lost my mind. "You'd trust me with Mila? After everything?"
"I saw you take a bullet for her." Simple truth. "Saw you put yourself between her and armed men without hesitation. Saw you protect her like she was yours."
"She's not mine—"
"But you love her like she is." I move closer despite myself. "That's worth something. Maybe not forgiveness. Maybe not trust in other areas. But when it comes to my daughter's safety? I believe you'd die before letting her get hurt."
Fresh tears spill over. "I would. In a heartbeat."
"I know." The admission feels like ripping something open. "That's why, if I die tonight, you get her. Not because I've forgiven you. Not because I trust you with anything else. But because Mila loves you, and you'd protect her, and that's all that matters."
"Lev."
"Don't." I step back before she can reach for me. "Don't make this more than it is. I'm making practical arrangements for my daughter's safety. Nothing more."
"But what if you don't die? What if everything goes according to plan?"
"Then my plan remains." My voice hardens. "You disappear."
"And if I refuse? If I want to stay, want to make this right—"
"There is no making this right." The words come out cold. Final. "You can't unring this bell, Valerie. Can't undo the betrayal. Can't erase the fact that you lied to me for months while gathering intelligence for my enemy."
"I stopped—"
"After you'd already done the damage. After you'd already passed him, God knows how much information. After you'd already proven that when it matters, when you're backed into a corner, you'll betray me to save yourself."
"That's not fair—"
"Fair?" I almost laugh. "You want to talk about fair? Was it fair that I trusted you? That I let you into my life, my home, my bed? That I showed you parts of myself I haven't shown anyone since Katya died? Was any of that fair, Valerie?"
She's crying harder now, but I can't stop.
"I made myself vulnerable for you. Ignored every red flag. Dismissed Mikhail's warnings. Chose to believe you were what you pretended to be. And the whole time, you were working for my arch nemesis.”
"After tonight, you're free." My voice drops back to cold neutrality. "Your family is safe. Your debt to Patrick is paid in blood. You can go anywhere, start over, build whatever life you want."
"Without you. Without Mila."
"Yes."
"That's not freedom. That's punishment."
"Then consider yourself punished." I turn toward the door. "Mikhail will bring you updates as they happen. If I don't make it back, he'll escort you and Mila to safety. If I do, he'll escort you to your family, and you'll leave immediately."
I walk out before she can say anything. Before the look on her face can crack through my resolve.
Lock the door behind me.
And head upstairs to prepare for war.
Because in six hours, Patrick O'Rourke dies.
And maybe then, with my enemy's blood on my hands, I can finally stop thinking about the woman in my basement who destroyed me.
Maybe.