Chapter 43 Marlena
Katya spread a piece of paper across the coffee table and started drawing with quick, precise strokes. Her hand moved with the confidence of someone who'd done this countless times before, sketching the villa's layout from memory with remarkable detail.
"Here's the main entrance," she said, marking an X at the front of the building. "Heavy security, at least six guards, cameras on every angle. They'll see you coming from a mile away."
"That's the point," I said, leaning forward to study the drawing.
"Right." Katya drew lines along the western edge. "Nikolai and I will come from the sea side. There's a service entrance here that leads to the lower levels. Less guarded, especially now that Viktor thinks we've run. He'll be focused on the perimeter, watching for another frontal assault."
She sketched out the interior quickly, marking rooms and hallways. "The holding cells are in the basement. If Elena is still there, that's where she'll be. Drugged, most likely, so she won't be able to walk on her own."
"How long do I need to keep Viktor distracted?" I asked.
"Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty if the locks give us trouble." Katya looked up at me. "Can you do that?"
Twenty minutes alone with Viktor. Twenty minutes of playing his game, letting him think he'd won, keeping him occupied while Nikolai and Katya extracted my mother from the basement.
Terror ran through me like ice water, settling deep in my bones and making my hands shake slightly. But underneath the fear was something else, something harder and fiercer than I'd ever felt before. Strength. The kind that came from having nothing left to lose.
"I can do it," I said, and meant it.
Nikolai stood across the table from me, his grey eyes burning with intensity as he studied the plan. His face was still pale from crying earlier, his eyes slightly red, but his jaw was set with determination. He'd locked all that grief away somewhere deep and rebuilt his walls in record time.
"If anything goes wrong," he said, "if Viktor makes a move you don't like, you get out. Don't try to be a hero."
"I'm not trying to be a hero," I said. "I'm trying to save my mother."
"And we will," Katya said. "But Nikolai's right. If the situation deteriorates, you run. We'll have an exit route planned for you." She drew another line on the map. "Through the east gardens, down to the cliffs. There's a path that leads to the service road. We'll have a car waiting."
I nodded, studying the layout, memorizing every detail. The main entrance. The hallways Viktor would likely take me through. The distance to the basement where my mother was being held. The escape routes if everything went to hell.
My eyes met Nikolai's across the table and something passed between us, some understanding that went deeper than words. We were walking into a trap of our own making, gambling everything on a plan that had a dozen ways to fail. We might not make it out alive. Either of us.
"If we die tonight," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the fear thrumming through me, "I don't hate you anymore."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with everything we'd been through. All the lies and manipulation and pain. The contract that had bound us together. The slow, complicated thing that had grown despite all the darkness.
Nikolai moved around the table before I could take another breath. His hands cupped my face and he pulled me into a kiss that was hard and desperate and tasted like salt from his earlier tears. Like goodbye or maybe this was the last time we'd get to do this.
I kissed him back just as hard, my fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. The fear and adrenaline and grief all mixed together into something raw and overwhelming. His mouth moved against mine with intensity that made my knees weak and for a moment nothing else existed except this, except him, except the possibility that we might not survive the night.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against mine.
"We're not dying tonight," he said, his voice rough. "I won't let that happen."
"You don't get to control everything, Nikolai."
"Watch me."
Katya cleared her throat pointedly and we stepped apart, though Nikolai's hand found mine and held on tight.
"As touching as this is," Katya said dryly, "we have weapons to prep and about three hours until optimal insertion time."
She pulled out two large duffel bags from a closet I hadn't noticed and dumped their contents onto the floor. Guns, knives, ammunition, tactical vests, rope, flashlights, wire cutters, and equipment I didn't even recognize. An arsenal that would make most military units jealous.
"Where did you get all this?" I asked.
"I've been preparing for war with Viktor for fifteen years," Katya said, checking the magazine on a Glock. "Same as my brother. I just went about it differently."
We spent the next two hours getting ready in near silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Katya and Nikolai worked with the efficiency of people who'd trained for combat, checking weapons, loading magazines, strapping on tactical gear with practiced movements.
I was less experienced but I watched and learned, copying their methodical approach. Katya handed me a small pistol, showing me how to chamber a round, how to aim, how to hold my stance steady. The weight of it felt wrong in my hands but also necessary.
"You know how to shoot?" she asked.
"Dominic taught me some basics," I said, remembering afternoons in a warehouse outside Paris, learning to handle a weapon in case things ever went wrong. They had gone wrong, just not in ways I'd anticipated.
"Good. Keep it in your waistband, covered by your jacket. Don't draw unless you absolutely have to."
I nodded and tucked the gun away, feeling the cold metal press against my skin.
Then I pulled out the small knife from earlier, the tourist shop blade that had already tasted blood tonight. I strapped it to my ankle this time, hidden inside my boot where no one would think to look. Another knife went into my other shoe, a backup in case the first one failed.
Katya handed me a tiny earpiece. "Comms device. You'll be able to hear us, and we'll hear everything you say. Don't touch it, don't adjust it. Viktor's people will search you before they let you near him. This is small enough they might miss it."
I fitted it carefully into my ear, the device so tiny I could barely feel it.
"Testing," Katya said, and her voice came through clear in my ear despite her standing five feet away.
"I hear you," I said.
"Good. Remember, twenty minutes minimum. Keep him talking, keep him distracted. We'll do the rest."
Nikolai checked his watch. "We need to move. It's almost midnight."
My stomach dropped. This was it. This was really happening.
We loaded into the SUV with Katya driving again, Nikolai in the passenger seat, and me in the back surrounded by weapons and gear. The drive back toward Monaco felt surreal, like watching myself from outside my body. Every streetlight we passed, every turn we took, brought us closer to whatever ending tonight would bring.
My heartbeat was loud in my throat, pounding like a drum that wouldn't stop. I pressed my hand against my chest, feeling it race beneath my palm. The fear was overwhelming, threatening to swallow me whole, but I breathed through it the way Dominic had taught me years ago. In for four counts, hold for four, out for four. Again and again until my hands stopped shaking quite so badly.
I wondered if I would see my mother tonight. If I'd get the chance to look her in the eyes after all these years of thinking she was dead. If I'd be able to tell her I was sorry for not finding her sooner, for not knowing she was alive, for everything she'd suffered while I'd been out in the world trying to survive.
Would she even recognize me? Would the drugs have destroyed her mind, or would some part of her remember the daughter she'd left behind?
The villa appeared in the distance, lit up like a beacon against the dark hills. Viktor's guards would be on high alert after the firefight earlier, watching every approach, ready for another assault.
They'd get one. Just not from the direction they expected.
Katya pulled off the main road onto a dirt path that wound through trees, killing the headlights so we moved through darkness. The SUV bounced over rough terrain until we reached a clearing about half a mile from the villa.
She put it in park and turned to look at me. "This is where we split up. Nikolai and I head for the boats. You approach from the road, hands visible, no weapons drawn. Make them think you're surrendering."
"Because I am," I said. "Sort of."
"You're walking into hell," Nikolai said, turning in his seat to face me. "Viktor will hurt you. He'll try to break you. You need to be ready for that."
"I know."
His jaw clenched and he reached back, his hand finding mine again. "If it gets too bad –"
"I'll handle it," I said, squeezing his fingers. "Just get my mother out. That's all that matters."
We sat there for a moment in the darkness, hands linked, knowing this might be the last time we touched. Then Katya cleared her throat again and the spell broke.
"Go," she said to me. "Walk slow. Make sure they see you coming."
I opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and flowers, and somewhere in the distance I could hear waves crashing against rocks. It was beautiful, this piec
e of Monaco's coastline. A beautiful place to die.
I started walking, leaving Nikolai and Katya behind in the SUV.