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The Bratva’s Secret Heir

Page 151

by Leona White

“The plates and tracker stay with it,” I say, leaning over the map. “Chernov’s dispatch will think the ambulance is still following the route they approved.”

“You sound very sure,” Dima says.

“They sent the ambulance,” I say. “They’ll want to know when it leaves with Misha.”

Dmitri leaves through the service door. Dima waits a few seconds, then heads toward the stairs on the other side of the bay. Vera and I leave the garage to bring Misha down. Roman and his support team are waiting at the first checkpoint. He’ll call us the moment the ambulance reaches the gate.

The inner family suite is behind three guard points. Abramov’s men have already checked the corridors before we reach it.

Misha and Mikhail sit on the rug beside a city built from wooden blocks. Misha has placed each road in a straight line and parked his yellow car beside the tallest tower. Mikhail studies the walls, moves one red block, then knocks down half the city with his elbow.

Misha stares at the ruins. “You broke Moscow.”

Mikhail picks up the red block. “It needed a bigger gate.”

Cara’s pistol makes a hard bulge beneath her jacket. “That is his father’s answer to most problems.”

Elena sits on the couch with Lev against her shoulder and hides a smile in the baby’s hair.

Misha begins stacking the fallen blocks again. “Papa knows where the roads go.”

The word reaches me before I can prepare for it. Vera watches my face, then crouches beside Misha and helps him place the longest block across two towers.

Mrs. Wentworth enters with warm porridge, jam, banana slices, and juice. “No operation begins when you're hungry.”

Misha reaches for the jam. “I need fuel.”

“One spoon,” Vera says, catching the jar before he can pull it closer.

He loads the spoon until jam hangs over both sides.

Cara takes it from him and scrapes half back into the jar. “Your mother said one spoon, not a tower.”

Misha licks the edge and looks pleased with himself.

I sit on the couch because Vera keeps watching the way I stand. She brings me water and places my medicine beside it.

“Take it,” she says, holding out her hand.

I swallow the tablet and give her the empty cup.

“Good,” she says, putting it on the table. “You can follow simple orders when armed men are watching.”

Misha abandons the jam and walks over with the yellow car pressed to his chest. His coat hangs from one hand, and one sleeve drags across the rug.

Vera takes the coat and kneels in front of him. “We’re going to play the trick we told you about.”

He pushes one arm into the sleeve. “I go in the ambulance.”

“Only for a minute,” she says, guiding his other hand through. “Then Cara and Oksana take you back to Elena.”

Misha looks toward the door. “Bad men watch?”

I lower myself beside him. “Someone may be watching, so we’ll let them see what we want.”

His gray-green eyes settle on mine. “Then they look in the wrong place.”

“Exactly.”