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“I don’t want anyone to see me leave your room.”
“Taylor.”
She throws me a glare that reminds me of Celine. “We have to be sensitive about this change, Ilarion,” she insists. “For Adam’s sake, as well as Celine’s. Everyone has to get used to seeing us together and I don’t want to shove it down their throats.”
Her choice of words has me instantly remembering the night before. Her, too, apparently, because her cheeks go scarlet and she hides her face in the crook of her arm again.
“Okay, I think the coast is clear,” Taylor whispers when she peeks back out. “Come on.”
We’ve just stepped out into the hallway when Mila rounds the corner. She and Taylor stop short when they see each other. Taylor shuffles self-consciously from one foot to the other, her shoulders slumping with embarrassment, while Mila’s face splits into a shit-eating grin.
“Well, well,” she says cheerily. “Good morning to you two.”
“Oh, God,” Taylor groans.
“Great timing, huh?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m assuming you were coming to my room for a reason?” I ask, glossing over Taylor’s awkwardness.
The smile drops off her face almost instantly. “Yeah. Unfortunately.”
I get the measure of her news from her tone alone. All I want to do is make sure Taylor is out of earshot. “Taylor, why don’t you go see Adam? I’ll be with you soon.”
She frowns, turning those tender emerald eyes on me, before sighing and nodding. Then she surprises me by pushing up on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on my cheek in full view of Mila. With that down, she disappears around the bend.
Mila gives me a smile. “Well, it’s about time.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re one to talk. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
“Another package. Another one of his fingers,” Mila tells me. “It was delivered to our doorstep only a few minutes ago.”
“Fucking hell.”
“There’s more,” she warns. “This time, it came with an address. It looks like he wants us to come to him. Some old factory downtown.”
We go downstairs together, but nothing about this is sitting right with me. We’ve just reached the landing when Dima turns the corner. “Did Mila tell you?” he asks excitedly. “The fucker has just issued us a challenge.”
“It’s not just a challenge, Dima,” I caution him. “It’s a trap. Benedict Bellasio no longer has the manpower or the resources to launch a full-scale attack. Which means he has to gain the upper hand in other ways.”
“He has Archie,” Dima points out. “That’s his upper hand. Literally, in this case. The upper fingers, at least.”
“He’s not going to risk his life on the assumption that Archie is important to Ilarion,” Mila says. “Let’s face it: the old man is expendable.”
“No,” I snap. “Not anymore.” Dima and Mila both turn to me with wide eyes. “We have to get Archie back.Alive.”
Dima and Mila exchange a glance. “And if we can’t…?”
“We have to,” I insist. “He’s Taylor’s father. Adam’s grandfather. He may have been a traitor to me, but he was good to them. And for that, I can forgive his sins against the Bratva.”
Dima’s jaw sets with acceptance, but Mila’s brow furrows. “I understand where you’re coming from. I care about Taylor, too. I don’t want to hurt her, but honestly, not every Zakharov man will be as forgiving as you. If he dies in the midst of this, it might not be the worst thing.”
I stare Mila down until she lowers her gaze. “I’ve made my decision. Gather the men. We’re going in and we’re going in prepared. Whatever trap he’s laid, we’re going to destroy it head-on. Go.”
Mila and Dima veer off to prepare the men. I go searching for Taylor and Adam. I find them in the breakfast nook with a stack of pancakes between them, maple syrup pooling around the edges of their plates.
“Ilarion…” Taylor begins, rising to her feet the moment she sees me.
“Uncle Illy!” Adam says excitedly. “Where have you been? You haven’t come to play with me. And Grandpa’s not here, either. Who’s going to play with me today?”
