Page 117 of Nemesis

The world burns.

He doesn’t have to clarify who she is. There’s only one target that would obliterate Sasha and me in equal measure.

“How much?” My voice is scratchy and raw. “How bad?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes, cracking open his laptop and sliding it into my view. The private browser opens to a well-known black-market bounty site, one I’ve visited many times. I take in the number on the screen.

And I stop breathing.

Ten million dollars for the head of Octavia Clarke, currently located in the Siderov compound in rural Chicago.

The number is significant enough to have every global mercenary and bottom-feeder crawling out of the woodwork. And he just gave them all our specific location.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“How long has this been live?” I whisper, desperately trying to pull fresh oxygen into my lungs.

“Fifteen minutes. I’ve pulled in every soldier and ally we’ve got, but…”

He doesn’t need to finish. I know as well as he does that our forces won’t be enough to stave off this storm. We might be able to dispatch the first few hundred ourselves, but eventually, one will sneak through our forces.

A ten-million bounty is inevitable.

“Get him on the phone.”

“Son—”

I shake my head, shoving every swirling emotion behind a heavy steel wall. “There’s no time to lose, Sasha. You know that as well as I do.”

The Bratva titan in front of me is silent, no doubt processing what this will mean for his daughter. It doesn’t matter. I will do whatever is necessary to keep her safe. My uncle won’t consume another soul for the crime of being tied to mine.

“Are the grounds secure?”

He nods. “For now.”

For now. Right.

Eventually, Sasha slumps in defeat and pulls his office phone towards me. Each dialed key rings through the air like a death knell. The phone only dials for a brief moment before the call is picked up.

“That was rather quick, Siderov. I see I’ve found your Achilles heel.”

“Uncle.” My voice calcifies into deep, generational anger.

“Ah. If it isn’t my errant nephew.” An amused laugh. “Did you have a nice vacation?”

A game.

Always a game with him.

“I will be on a jet within the hour. Remove the bounty.”

“Marvelous. I do hope there’s no love lost here, boy. After all, this is just business, and I feel I’ve been quite lenient with your self-imposed time off.”

I don’t respond. My jaw grinds shut so hard it’s a wonder my molars don’t crack on impact.

“You heard him. Now take down the hit,” Siderov cuts in.

Silence crackles through the line, heavy with purpose. We both tense up.