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“Mistakes happen,” Dimitri says with a shrug. “We thought your marriage would be the end of things.”
“Turns out, Violetta Salkov is a woman without honor,” Mikhail mutters bitterly.
“I have to get out there,” I insist. “Can’t you spare any of your men to help me search?”
“The Salkovs are picking us off left, right, and center. It would be unwise to go out right now.”
“Thenwhen?” I snap. “After Violetta has run us out of town? When we’re all six feet under?”
“Mind your tone, Pyotr,” Mikhail warns darkly. “I know you’re worried, but we can’t afford to lose focus.”
Dimitri walks over and pats me on the back. “Let’s take a walk in the gardens. You need some fresh air.”
For what it’s worth, Mikhail has a lovely garden in his backyard. It’s littered with my nieces and nephew’s toys. There’s a sandbox and a swing set just off to the side, sheltered beneath the shade of a tall tree at the very corner of the property. At first glance, Mikhail’s home in the Russian suburbs feels incredibly ordinary. On closer inspection, however, that’s simply not the case.
It doesn’t take an eagle eye to notice the plethora of cameras posted around the perimeter. One’s hidden away in a fake birdhouse, another drilled up high near the apex of the house’s roof to provide a wide field of vision. I’m convinced there’s no place safer in all of Russia than my brother’s home.
I pace the garden planters. Aurora’s flowers are in full bloom, but they do little to calm my nerves.
“Deep breaths, Pyotr,” Dimitri says firmly. “You need to be patient.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Dima.”
“All I’m trying to say is you need a clear head. We all do. If we fall apart, the Salkovs win.”
I feel sick. I’m a man of action. The fact that I can’t do anything makes my insides boil. I understand why Mikhail doesn’t want to throw us head-first into battle, but I see no sense in being sitting ducks, either. With every passing second, Violetta grows closer to smothering us to death. The Antonovs have little territory left, and what ground we’ve managed to keep likely won’t last another onslaught. Our numbers are dwindling, our allies have all turned tail, and somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, my wife is likely being held against her will.
The guilt has been eating me alive. The last time I saw Alina, she was upset and vulnerable… and I didn’t do a damn thing about it. I regret the way I left things, and I regret it even more with every passing day. The cold, bitter anguish festers inside, destroying me bit by bit. Thewhat ifshaunt me day and night.
What if I’d given her my answer? What if I hadn’t left her alone? What if I wasn’t such a coward and told her how I feel?
It’s enough to drive a man insane.
My phone goes off, but I ignore it, too busy with my furious pacing to bother checking. Business can wait. CyberFort is the last thing on my mind right now.
“What is Misha even waiting for?” I grumble.
“You know our brother. He’s too proud to surrender.”
“And risk losing it all? What of his family?”
“I’ve got a plane at the ready,” Dimitri assures. “If things go tits up, I can get everyone to the States before Violetta can get her hands on us. But we’re not going to admit defeat until there’s no other option.”
“I don’t understand you two. What’s more important—your families or the Bratva?”
Dimitri gives me a sympathetic smile. “I don’t expect you to understand. To us, they’re one and the same.” My phone goes off again. While I’m inclined to ignore it, Dimitri tosses his chin toward me. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
With a sigh, I dig my phone out of my pocket. It’s an email from an address I’ve never seen with several images attached. My first and immediate thought is to send the email to my spam folder. As the head of a cybersecurity company, I’d be a fool to open any attachment from an unknown sender. Who knows what viruses could be lurking in its code?
But something in my gut tells me to give it a look. The email address ends with a.ru, meaning the email likely originated from right here in Russia. It feels a little too conspicuous to be random, so despite my better judgment, I click on the image.
My eyes widen in shock.
“Holy shit. Dima, look at this.”
My brother hurries to my side, peering over my shoulder as I zoom in on the picture. Maps. Not just any maps, either, but ones designed to track Bratva territory, army positions, and the Salkov’s plan of attack.
“Who sent this?” Dimitri asks, understandably suspicious.
