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The names of prominent Russian families pop out near the top, but it’s the younger ones who put me on edge. The Butcher has been very clear he will one day make the perfect assassin from his own bloodline, and he doesn’t care how many he needs to go through to make it happen.
Three Antonov boys and one Antonova girl will be entering the school together. All born months within each other to the women their father keeps as his own breeding slaves. Women he felt would be the best genetic match between them.
Perhaps being saved from that fate is enough of a reward for me, but they won’t be entering that school. The older boys who have already gone through the school can’t be saved or helped. Most of them will die before this is over, but after checking up on them, I know they’re too far gone to care. They’ve been conditioned to please their father, to be the villains he expects.
Well, except for one. I pull out one more picture. Rayea Antonova. The one who got away and can’t be touched. Not yet, anyway, but her time is coming soon. I just have to be the one to reach her before Pasha decides to stop being patient.
It’s always baffled me that Timur Belov allowed himself to be so manipulated into letting her walk away from the Bratva, to live a “normal” life, if one could call it that. Even more bizarre to me is that Pasha allowed it to happen. Allowed his own daughter to break rank and leave behind the position he set up.
It’s always made me suspicious. I’ll be finding a reason for it before this is finished.
“Enough,” I bark at Hunter and Reaper, quelling their argument. They glare at me, but they relent.
“Fine, we’ll do this the way that we’ve planned,” Reaper agrees. They look at me. “And you had better fucking have every detail right. One wrong move and this is over.”
“Do you doubt me?” My tone is a warning, and doubt flashes in their eyes before they finally shake their head.
“Finally, now we can actually start planning for what happens after all this shit is done,” Hunter states. They grab their folder with all the copies I have in my hand. “These names? All the kids going in or already in, what are we doing with them when we’re done?”
“That’s up to you.”
“What do you mean me?” Hunter demands. “You expect me to handle all these kids by myself?”
“You have teams that can help get them back to their families if that’s where they want to go, or find them somewhere better to be.”
They share a look with the others. “Why aren’t you involved in this? This is your entire fucking plan.”
“No, my plan is to take out the Bratva Butcher and his networks. It’s to keep them all in fucking check. The detonation of his headquarters is only the start. Your job is to oversee everything that’s been done. We continue on as we have been. We keep the criminal world in fucking check.”
“But those kids are going to be traumatized,” Reaper reminds me. “You think they’re going to just go with a bunch of strangers? Or their families are going to welcome them back when they were given to him in the first place?”
I arch a brow. “And are you really going to sit here and tell me that no one here hasn’t already thought of this? Or did you think I wouldn’t check that you already have a bunch of fucking therapists and people on standby to get them into programs in other countries to ensure their safety? Identities already ready for those who can’t go home?”
Reaper stiffens, eyes cold and guarded. “You’ve been watching us?”
“I watch everything.” My gaze moves between them all. “Did you really expect me to trust every part of this to you all?”
Hunter mutters something under their breath that I don’t quite catch. Enforcer, however, does, and they scowl. Interesting.
“Something you want to share, Hunter?”
They have the decency to look slightly embarrassed then sigh heavily. “This really doesn’t feel like an equal partnership. We’re doing the majority of the hard work while you bark orders and expect us to follow them without question.”
Silence.
Irritation ignites, but I don’t let it take hold. “And what gave you any indication that this was going to be a partnership, Hunter?” I look at Reaper and Enforcer before adding, “Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I invited you into this. If that no longer suits you, then we can end our association here.”
Hunter pales slightly at my thinly disguised threat. They all know they aren’t getting out of this alive if they decide they want to leave.
And I don’t give a shit. They knew what they were getting into. They don’t get to play victim now.
“We’re fighting over stupidity when we need to be focused,” Enforcer states, unfazed at my threat. “We’ve all agreed to be here, and Assassin has gotten the majority of the legwork started, and whether you like it or not, this is her idea. And you’re both idiots if you didn’t think she’d be running it after doing all of that and recruiting us. Reaper, Hunter, work together to get your networks ready to move the kids and get them to safety. That’s the end goal. They’ve been through a lot, but you’ve dealt with this plenty before; it will just be on a slightly larger scale. So you don’t get to fucking complain now. If we want any of this shit to work, all this petty bullshit needs to be squashed.” They look at me. “And if you get me or my team killed, I’ll haunt your ass for eternity until I meet you in hell, and then it’ll be my turn for some payback.”
I grin. “Promise?”
They barely manage not to roll their eyes at me, but I can see they want to. “Fuck off.”
“So what exactly are you going to be doing, Assassin, while the rest of us are doing our jobs?” Hunter asks. “Your role is the only one that’s not clear.”
