Page 88 of Sinful Promise

“Right, well, we have a strategy with lots of moving pieces. I’m sure these will likely change in the next forty-eight hours.”

“We’ll hide in the hills,” Alex says. “Using the rifles will keep the noise level low. I will work with our men to take out the guards on the perimeter. Roman and Irina, posing as Dasha, will be at the door.”

“She’ll pretend to be my prisoner, so I’ll hold her like one,” Roman interjects.

“Where will I be?” I timidly ask.

“My house it’s guarded, and no information on it comes back to my name specifically,” Roman says. “I’ll have men there. Things can change if my brothers arrive. We’re not sure who will get here in time right now.”

I understand the situation, but I don’t like the idea of being alone with guards. I’d feel better if one of the four people in this room were with me, but I know the objective is to kill Andrian. With him gone, it will save my family and all the Volkovs. If they don’t make it out alive, I’ll die knowing it’s a win for society as long as Andrian is wiped off the planet.

“And we’re still attending the half-mask gala in Monte Carlo afterward?” Irina asks for confirmation.

“Yes. Dasha, you’ll be dressed. I’ll pick you up, and my tux will be with you at the house. We’ll arrive at the house, change, and use two vehicles to deliver us to the gala. The three of you will be together.” Roman nods to Irina and Francesca. “We need to buy our formalwear later today. After we do that and check out the warehouse, we’ll be in lockdown so we don’t run into any of Andrian’s men. Getting from the scene to my house takes ten minutes. The gala is a perfect cover and takes five minutes by car.”

“When the police get to the warehouse, it will look like a drug deal gone bad.” Irina’s smile is so bright, it hurts my eyes.

“We’ll be transported by helicopter to the airport in an hour. My men will pick us up, and after we are settled in the house, we’ll do our recon. We’ll scope out the warehouse and lie low. It would be better if my brothers were here, but we can do it either way.” Roman flips a switch, and the table goes dark.

“I think we have a plan. Let’s get ready to be picked up,” Alex says.

And with that, the meeting is adjourned.

My stomach feels tight. Nerves, I’m sure.

“Do we need to pack?” I ask Roman when we return to our room.

I notice the rain has stopped because there are only pools of static water on the skylight over the bed. The rain has moved out to sea.

“No, you’ll have everything you need.”

“Okay,” I reply. Who am I to question him? He might be the youngest brother, but I’m impressed with his plan. There are wrinkles for sure. However, he’s a good leader.

It doesn’t sound like his brothers will be able to make it in time to help us with the uncertainty of the situation.

I wear a Lycra outfit to travel in and new black sneakers. I find the big purse in my closet and zip my old sneakers inside. They are all that’s left that was mine, and I like the feeling of owning something.

It’s still dark, but we’re all on deck before dawn. As instructed, I crawl into the helicopter, and Roman gets on last, taking the seat beside me.

We wear ear protection, and within fifteen minutes, we’re on land, and two SUVS pull up. Men in suits wearing earpieces speak, telling me when to move as they escort me into a waiting vehicle.

Now I’m beginning to feel like a hostage.

32

ROMAN

Iwonder if my brothers will come, even though I told them I’m handling the situation. It’s not safe for them to travel, but Dad’s death has uncovered a personal vendetta that affects us all.

Part of me hopes they can’t get here in time. Dmitry is going to be a father, and the child will need him. It’s a long flight from New York City, and I don’t want to be responsible for him or Nikolay should the meeting not go according to plan.

The fact is, I went to Belarus. I found our father’s nemesis, and I will end him. That’s all there is to it. I have friends who are equipped to help me.

My vehicles follow the winding, tree-lined roads. At times, I catch a glimpse of the picturesque view of the Mediterranean on my left. I’m anxious to get home and get Dasha settled.

“Where do you live?” Dasha asks.

“You’ll see,” I reply. I wanted to surprise her, take the boat in from the yacht and act like I was trespassing on someone else’s property, but today is not a day for practical jokes or romantic overtures.

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