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“No,” I growl. “Ignoring it is not an option.”
“But if Benedict did forge—”
“Even if he did, ignoring it implies weakness. As far as the underworld is concerned, Celine is my fiancée. If I don’t make a show of trying to get her back, my strength will be called into question. I can’t lead a Bratva if my reputation starts to suffer.”
“So we have to go in.” Dima folds his arms as he leans against the wall. The look on his face tells me he’s got his own list of scenarios swirling around—and none of them are any better than mine. “But be prepared for the worst.”
“Wait!” Mila holds up a hand as she takes her turn to pace around the room. “Let’s take a moment here. There has to be another way. Something we aren’t thinking of.”
“Like what?” Dima asks. “Short of sending in someone undercover? That kind of mission takes years of prep. We don’t have that luxury.”
Both of them glance at me with uncertainty. I wonder if they can sense that something’s off. It’s strange that chaos makes me calm. I’m never quite as clear-minded as when there’s a plan of action to piece together and a thousand obstacles to maneuver around.
Usually.
But this time, it’s different.
This time, it’s personal.
“We don’t need to plant someone,” Mila says. She pauses, then sighs. “Send me in.”
Dima snorts with laughter. When my sister turns her glare on him, his mouth drops open with incredulity. “You’re not serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she demands.
“Because it’s ludicrous!” he growls. “Tell her, Ilarion. Tell her she’s fuckin’ crazy.”
“He’s right,” I agree. “There’s no way I’m sending you in.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman? Or because I’m your sister?”
“Either. Both.” I offer a not-so-apologetic shrug. “But mostly the second.”
“Fuck you.”
I ignore that. “We go in, guns blazing,” I decide, turning to Dima. “We have to be prepared for a full-scale attack. It might all be for nothing. Celine might not even be there, but—”
Mila steps up to me before I can finish, pushing herself into my face. “I can get in undetected,” she hisses. “I can scope out the place, see if I can get a read on where Celine is being held. If she’s not on the property, I get out before you risk yourself and your men on a wild goose chase.”
I stare down at her, reminded of how stubborn she is and always has been. The fire and brimstone was there even as a little girl. She used to follow me to the shooting range when she was barely old enough to hold a pistol level. I told her no once and she snuck into the back of my car to hitch a ride there.
If she was a boy, our father might have been proud. As it stood, he beat her so badly that she couldn’t sit for a month.
Now, I go back and forth. She’s not wrong; it would be very easy for her to sneak in, assess the situation, and leave without getting caught. But I don’t know if catering to her pride is the best thing for her. Ultimately, it’s the same question I always ask and never quite manage to answer: did her childhood mold her…or break her?
“I’m not risking your life to sate your pride, Mila.”
“Right, of course not,” she says bitterly. “Becauseyourpride is the only thing that matters, isn’t that right? Your pride, Dima’s pride… Father’s pride. A man’s pride is worth so much more than a woman’s.”
“Don’t make this about something it’s not.”
She scoffs bitterly. “Don’t deny it’s anything but.”
“This isn’t a question of your ability.” I grimace and rub my temples. “My job is to protect you.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be protected!”
“Unfortunately, I’m not giving you the choice.”
