Chapter 63

Chapter 62

Luka

THE THREE of us stand, looking every bit the elite of the underworld. Dimitri obsesses over his cuffs, ensuring every detail is just right. Erik lounges on the armrest of a chair, his dark suit making him look like he's straight out of a GQ shoot. But his gaze is distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. I recognize that look; he's running through every nuance of tonight's plan, mentally rehearsing each step. His fingers absentmindedly play with a Swiss blade, twirling it, dancing it over his knuckles, and teasing the blade close to his thumb. It looks like he might slice it clean off.

"Five cars, then?" Dimitri asks, breaking the silence. He's referring to the convoy we have prepared for tonight's operation. The cars, filled with our chosen men, will be our main force in the attack against Aleks.

"Enough firepower to do the job, not enough to raise alarms," I assure him. The balance is crucial. Too few, and we risk failure; too many, and we tip our hand too early.

Erik leans back, his eyes fixed on the blueprint. He shakes his head and mutters, "You think she'd prefer a garden? Miniature roses?"

For a fleeting moment, Dimitri and I exchange glances, then turn back to Erik, each of us grappling with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, silently asking ourselves what the hell he's going on about.

"You sure about the dollhouse for Yulia?" Erik goes on. "I mean, it's not too much?"

I glance at Dimitri, who's stifling a laugh. "Really, Erik?" I ask. "We're planning an attack, and you're worried about a dollhouse garden?"

"It's a very important dollhouse," Erik responds, his face dead serious.

Dimitri bursts into laughter.

"And here I thought you only cared about guns and explosions," I joke.

Erik raises an eyebrow. "Who says you can't appreciate both?" He rubs his hands together, his voice tinged with wicked satisfaction. "By the way, Ivan just messaged. Our men are already mingling with the circus crew, slithering their way in. The game's afoot."

Dimitri's voice drips with venom. "And how many packs of Aleks's dogs are we expecting?"

"Three groups," Erik replies. "Eight cars."

"Eight cars, three groups. Bastards are playing it safe," Dimitri mutters.

"And they should," Erik counters, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "They know who they're up against."

"Make sure our men know their targets," I instruct, my mind racing with the details of the plan.

Erik's smirk turns into a knowing grin. "We won't waste a single bullet. We know what we're doing."

"And the dollhouse?" Dimitri can't resist asking, a teasing smile on his face.

"Safely packed away," Erik answers, a hint of pride in his voice. "Some things are just more important than bullets and explosions."

The low hum of the bunker's private lift is a sudden intrusion, and we all turn as the doors slide open, revealing the tall figure of Svetlana.

"Svetlana," Dimitri acknowledges, his eyes flickering with concern. "What's happening up there? Any movement from Anya?"

"Anya's been to Yulia's room after sneaking from the kitchen," she reports, voice flat. "Couldn't catch what she said to Sophia, but it was a threat."

"Fucking bitch," I growl. "Review the exit strategy with us," I ask as I glance between Svetlana and the map she's just placed on the table.

Svetlana indicates a location. "A hidden exit that leads to a discreet airfield. There's a helicopter ready for Yulia if we need it."

Dimitri speaks up, "Twenty minutes, give or take."

I think for a moment. "So, we have an escape plan if things don't go our way?"

"Not for all of us," Dimitri mentions, "But we've always agreed Yulia's safety is paramount."

I nod slowly. "But now, we can't let Anya be suspicious."

"She won't," Svetlana assures me.

Dimitri nods. "Using the helicopter is our last option." His worry is written all over him. "Is Sophia ready for this?" he asks, his voice colored with doubt.

"She's as ready as she'll ever be," I reply, knowing Sophia's strength but feeling that nagging doubt myself. "Don't worry, Dimitri. She won't let Anya get to her."

Just then, Svetlana's walkie-talkie springs to life. "Arrival of Mr. Jameson Locke, Mrs. Karina Vance, Sir Reginald Thornhill…" The names keep coming, but I'm not listening anymore.

"It's time," I announce, moving toward the exit. "We need to get Yulia."

"Woof!"

"Luka!"

The sounds reach me simultaneously, Max's bark and Yulia's shriek mingling in the air. I enter Yulia's room and can't help but feel a tug at my heart as the pair run toward us.

Sophia's trying to stifle a laugh, but her green eyes betray a trace of fear. I catch it, a quick, unsettling flash that she can't hide from me. Dimitri's looking at Yulia's suit, a mix of amusement and disbelief in his eyes. Erik's pretending not to care, but the smirk on his face gives him away.

"What's with the suit, Yulia?" I can't help but ask, a grin spreading across my face.

Yulia puffs up her chest, a serious expression on her face. "I'm the boss today, Luka."

Erik snorts, unable to contain himself. "The boss of what, exactly?"

"The boss of everything!" Yulia declares, hands on her hips.

"Alright, Boss Yulia," I say, still chuckling. "What's our first order of business?"

Yulia looks at me, her eyes bright and serious once again. "Our first order of business," she declares, "is to go have some ice cream!"

I can't help but laugh again. Dimitri doesn't seem to share my amusement, though.

"Ice cream now?" his voice booms, and he moves his large frame toward Yulia, something hidden behind him. He's gruff, almost growling.

Yulia meets his gaze without flinching. "Yes, Dima, ice cream now."

Dimitri softens immediately, twitching into a smile. "Alright then, ice cream it is. And after that…" He glances at the large dollhouse he's shielding. "Perhaps something else?"

Yulia's eyes widen and her face lights up with delight. "Oh, Dima, is that for me?"

"No one else, sestrichka. No one else," Dimitri murmurs, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Yulia's arms circle Dimitri's neck, her excited voice bubbling with happiness. "Thank you, Dima! Thank you!"

"You deserve the world, little boss," Dimitri says, his voice thick with emotion as he kisses her forehead.

"And not just from Dima," Erik interjects, moving closer with a surprising gentleness in his eyes. "Happy birthday from all of us." He bends down and kisses Yulia on her cheeks, a smile transforming his face.

Yulia beams at Erik, her excitement bubbling over. "Thank you, Erik! This is the best birthday ever!"

I listen to Yulia's laugh, a pure sound in a world that's anything but.

But a nasty, gnawing thought edges into my mind.

Tonight.

Tonight, we end Aleks.

He'll be a dead man walking, and we are cutting out a tumor, one that's been poisoning us for far too long.

Sophia steps up beside me, and for a split second, I get distracted by her. The green dress she's wearing clings to her just right, accentuating her figure. A soft emerald shade that compliments her eyes, making them pop. The dress is no-nonsense, clean-cut, with a subtle neckline and a skirt ending just above her knees. She looks stunning, but then she looks up at me, and her expression wipes away any other thoughts.

"Luka," she mutters, voice almost a whisper. "I need to speak to you."