Page 152 of Nemesis

“I want the name of the idiot who shot the messenger instead of bringing him in for questioning,” Ivan says to someone by the door.

“Why would he do this?” Ben smacks the table. “We agreed to his terms!”

“We all knew his word was trash,” Nik says. “He was never going to give Kirill back. That’s why we need to launch the first attack before his deadline. We should’ve retaliated on day one, like I said…”

I frown, reading the letter twice more before setting it back on the table.

“Well?” Ben asks.

“Apparently, my wedding is set for Friday.” I wipe my hands down the sides of my pants. “He wants me to marry his enforcer. Kirill will be returned as a wedding gift once I comply.”

“That’s in two days,” Maksim mutters.

“What’s the fascination with him marrying you off?” Ben asks, snatching the note from the table. “He’s been trying to take our territory for ages. Why not focus on that?”

“Because they are one and the same,” I explain, gesturing to the madman’s self-indulgent scrawls. “I am the Pakhan’s daughter. When his enforcer marries me, he will inherit the title.” It’s the same logic I overheard our own soldiers gossiping about months ago. Whoever locks down the daughter gets to take the crown.

“So, I guess he has no idea that you’re already married,” Ivan muses aloud.

Ben drops the letter, eyes widening.

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

Nik and Ben’s voices explode across the table. Even Maksim stops his manic pacing.

Ivan frowns. “You guys have a real communication problem.”

“Vasiliy and I married on the plane.” I rub my temple. It does nothing to alleviate the persistent ache. “I didn’t want to return so exposed, not when I knew he’d do anything to take Dad’s seat of power.”

“Great. So now we’ve already lost the one thing he’s willing to bargain for,” Ben says.

My blood heats. “It wasn’t his to have. Besides, Ivan’s right. He doesn’t know I’m married, so maybe this could work in our favor.”

“I’m not saying we should’ve handed you over in exchange for Kirill, but at least we had the last resort. We could’ve gotten you out of there at some point, after Kirill was returned and secure.”

Right. They would’ve come for me at some point. If I managed to survive that first night.

“He cut off his fucking finger, Ben!” Nik shouts. “He was never going to be true to his word! As far as I’m concerned, it was a damn good thing that Octavia took herself off the market, because he would’ve killed Kirill as soon as he got her.”

A door slams again in the distance. When Alex walks back into the room, his face is about three shades paler than usual. I wonder if he’ll tell Aunt Juliet about the message, or if he’ll choose to wait.

My chest aches.

“I never said we should hand Octavia over! All I said was that her trip to New York might have dried up some of our options…”

“There’s only one option,” Nik bites back. “We take our men and raid his shitty compound. Tonight!”

“That’s a stupid idea,” Ivan mutters, slipping back down into a seat.

There are too many pieces on the damn board. I slump down into my own chair, limbs stiffened with so much tension it’s a miracle they fold. Popov already set his demands on that first phone call. Nothing has really changed. The purpose behind this package was to deliver the clock.

Dad and I never played chess with the clock. The way he taught me was far more leisurely, relaxed in his leather reading chair and sipping his drink between moves. I have no idea how to strategize within the bounds of a ticking timer.

When I look up to find Vasiliy approaching from the cellar door, the weight on my shoulders lightens a bit. Almost everyone in the room shrinks back as he strolls into the space with a crazed look, hands and forearms coated in a thick layer of blood that splatters to the floor with every step.

His eyes find mine immediately, and whatever he sees there draws him to my side. He bends down and plants a soft kiss just below my ear. I hear his unspoken words, loud and clear.