Page 144 of Betrayal and Vows

I can feel her breathing slowly evening out as exhaustion finally claims her.

For the first time in my life, I understand what peace feels like.

And I'll kill anyone who tries to take it away from us.

Chapter 24

Lena

The village cemetery feels like an appropriate place for a meeting that might end with our deaths.

Ancient Orthodox crosses lean at impossible angles.

The iron gates screech like dying animals when we push through them.

It’s all very dark. Gloomy.

And terrifying.

I pull my baseball cap lower over my face and adjust my sunglasses.

The disguise feels flimsy, like tissue paper armor against the entire Russian underworld hunting us.

"This is insane," Anton mutters beside me, his own sunglasses reflecting the gray sky. "We shouldn't be here."

"She's my mother." The words come out sharper than I intend, but I'm tired of running. Tired of not knowing who I can trust. "If there's even a chance she can help us?—"

"If there's even a chance this is a trap, we're dead." His hand hovers near the gun concealed beneath his jacket. Every muscle in his body is coiled tight, ready to strike.

I know he isn’t happy about this, but I have to know. I need to know if my mother is okay.

Dmitri appears from behind a massive mausoleum.

It’s disturbing that such a large man can disappear so easily.

I never would have seen him.

Clearly, that’s the idea.

All those years of training.

"Perimeter's clear. No tail on Elena. She came alone, just like she promised."

"That doesn't mean anything," Anton growls. "She could have a team waiting."

"She could," Dmitri agrees. "But I don't think she does. She looks..." He pauses, searching for the right word. "Broken."

My heart clenches. Whatever game my mother has been playing, whatever side she's really on, I know she loves me. The way she looked at me before lowering her gun—that wasn't acting.

"Where is she?" I ask.

Dmitri nods toward the far corner of the cemetery. "By the old chapel. She's been waiting for twenty minutes."

We move through the maze of headstones. I feel a bit like a ghost. Lena Rostova is dead.

I don’t know who I am. Not anymore.

The only solid thing in my life is the man that was once born to be the next leader of the Bratva. He was killed and Anton rose in his place.