Chapter 25 #2
"Will be necessary to protect what's ours. I understand that."
He studies my face for another long moment, then nods.
"Get dressed. We leave in an hour."
As I head toward the bedroom to change clothes, I let the angry rage my mother ignited inside me come to a full boil.
I feed on it, feasting on the pain and hurt to allow my full mind, body, and soul to be consumed by that fury.
What she's done is unacceptable, and I have to make her pay.
Yuri joins me a few minutes later as we dress in silence.
I understand it now—his routine in the morning.
I have no space left in my mind for conversation as I button into my crisp white blouse and zip up the black slacks I’ve picked out.
All I can think about is how badly I want to destroy that woman.
"Ready?" he asks when we're both dressed and standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror.
"I am," I say softly, and I look myself in the eye one last time.
There's no backing down from this.
It's me or her.
If I can't be strong enough to stop her, she will end me, and I can't let that happen.
Yuri's hand rests on my thigh as his driver ushers us to the meeting location.
It's a connection that feels both possessive and supportive.
I can feel nervous energy building in my chest, but it's anticipation rather than fear.
I'm too angry to feel afraid right now, and maybe that's a good thing.
If I felt even an inkling of fear, I know I might back down.
For too long, I've been reacting to other people's moves—my mother's attacks, Yuri's protection, the constant sense that my life was happening around me rather than because of my own choices.
That ends today.
The long game of turning her partners against her isn't going to work.
She's moving too quickly.
We have to act more swiftly, and I am eager to hear what his lieutenants have to say.
When we arrive at the nondescript office building that serves as a front for Yuri's operations, his men are waiting.
I recognize some faces from the compound, but others are new—harder, more dangerous-looking individuals who study me with undisguised curiosity.
They're wondering what I'm doing here, whether I'm strong enough to handle the things they will discuss, but they don’t know me.
They're about to find out.
Yuri introduces me simply as his wife, but there's something in his tone that communicates my new status clearly.
This isn't a social courtesy or a gesture to keep me occupied.
This is a statement that I'm now part of the decision-making process.
The men grunt in acknowledgement, but I do notice a few of them stand straighter and stop looking me squarely in the eye.
The conference room is spartan but functional, dominated by a large table covered in documents and photographs.
I take the seat Yuri indicates, directly to his right, and meet each man's gaze steadily as they settle around the table.
Displacing Oleg wasn't my idea, but the men shift downward without complaint or even so much as a scowl.
"Gentlemen," Yuri begins, "we have a problem."
As he outlines my mother's legal maneuvering, I watch the faces around the table.
These are men who've spent their lives solving problems through violence and intimidation.
The idea of fighting battles in courtrooms with judges and injunctions clearly frustrates them.
"Why not just eliminate her?" asks one man I don't recognize.
"Make it look accidental. Problem solved."
"Because she's anticipated that response," I say before Yuri can answer.
"She's positioned herself as a concerned mother fighting to save her daughter from an abusive marriage. If she dies mysteriously now, especially while these legal proceedings are active, it only validates her claims and gives her allies more ammunition to use against us."
The man who'd suggested killing my mother stares at me with new interest.
"So, what do you propose?"
I look at Yuri, and he nods almost imperceptibly, giving me permission to continue, acknowledgment that this is my area of expertise.
I lean forward, feeling the familiar excitement of strategic planning.
"We give her exactly what she thinks she wants, then use it to hang her."
The room falls silent as I outline my idea.
Let my mother think she's winning.
Allow the legal proceedings to move forward while we quietly gather evidence of her criminal activities.
Then, at the moment of her apparent victory, we release everything simultaneously—to law enforcement, to the media, to every judge and official she's bribed.
It will be faster than trying to turn her network against her.
"She'll be destroyed professionally and personally," I continue.
"Her criminal network will abandon her to save themselves. The judges she's bribed will throw her under the bus to protect their own careers. And when she's completely isolated, discredited, and powerless—then we finish her."
The silence that follows is thoughtful rather than skeptical.
I can see these men reassessing me, recognizing strategic thinking that matches their own ruthless pragmatism.
"It's elegant," admits the man who'd wanted to kill her immediately.
"Complicated, but elegant."
Yuri's hand finds mine under the table, his fingers intertwining with mine.
When I look at him, I see pride in his expression mixed with recognition.
I've evolved into exactly the partner he needs, and all it took was a bit of pressure.
"Any objections?" Yuri asks the room.
There are none.
Not a single man in this room has a better idea or objects to my strategy.
I'm part of the team.
When the meeting finally ends and we're driving back to the safe house, Yuri reaches over to take my hand again.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Dangerous," I admit.
"And angry."
"Good. Because that's exactly what we need right now."
I turn to study his profile and study his face.
"Do you regret letting me become part of this?"
"No. I regret that it took me so long to recognize who you really are."
He shakes his head and squeezes my hand more tightly.
"And who am I?"
He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
"Mine."