Page 70 of Hero Worship

"I understand probability." Xavier said. "And I understand that some risks are worth taking. I can build Ash's cover as a wealthy novelist with specific tastes, create a trail that suggests his interest in commissioning a special piece. Something unique. Something worthy of Roche's particular talents. Meanwhile, I'll be breaking into their security systems, creating backdoors, making sure we can see everything happening inside."

"And you think they'll believe that?" I kept my voice neutral, professional. "That I'm the kind of person who shares their interests?"

"They'll believe it because we'll give them proof." Xavier switched to another window. "Financial records showing commissions from other artists. Email correspondence. Carefully crafted digital footprints suggesting a long-standing fascination with preserving beauty. All the right keywords to trigger their algorithms, catch their attention. While you play the interested collector, I'll be dismantling their security from the inside out."

"While I do what?" Xander demanded. "Pretend to be a willing sacrifice?"

"You don't have to pretend much." Xavier's voice stayed perfectly calm. "Just play on their ego. Their need to be appreciated as an artist rather than a murderer. Make them believe they've found a kindred spirit who understands their vision. Let them think they've finally found someone who truly appreciates their work."

"And once we're inside?" I asked.

"Their security focuses on keeping people out." Xavier pulled up building schematics again. "But the mansion's old systems are still in place, including network access points they haven't properly secured. Once we're inside..."

"You can access everything," I finished. "All their records. All their evidence."

"While they're distracted playing cat and mouse with their pretty new toy." Xavier's smile was pure ice. "They'll be overconfident on their home ground. People tend to get careless when they think they've already won."

"This is insane," Xander whispered. "You're talking about walking straight into their home and hoping we can spring our trap before they spring theirs."

"Sometimes the best way to catch a predator is to hunt them in their own den." Xavier finally looked up from his screen. "But it only works if everyone plays their parts perfectly. No hesitation. No last-minute changes of heart." His eyes met mine, cold and calculating. "Can you do that?"

Could I maintain control while watching them touch what was mine? While knowing exactly what they planned to do?

"You're asking a lot," Nikolai said into the silence. "Betting everything on your man’s ability to maintain cover, no matter what happens."

"I'm betting on probability." Xavier turned back to his laptop. "On statistical likelihood and human nature. On the fact that monsters like Roche always believe they're the smartest person in the room."

Nikolai studied us all for a long moment, weighing options with the precision of someone used to calculating acceptable losses. Finally, he nodded to his man, who put the gun away.

"Very well," he said, rising smoothly. "You have two days to get everything in place. After that..." He straightened his perfectly tailored jacket. "Well. Let's hope probability favors the bold, cousin."

He left us there, three predators circling each other in a too-small space. The weight of what we'd agreed to settled like lead in my gut.

"I need to make some calls," Xavier said, already typing again.

I pulled Xander against my chest, feeling them shake. Everything in me screamed to protect them, to get them far away from this nightmare. Their strength had always drawn me in, even as my instincts urged me to shelter them. But I recognized the tactical necessity of Xavier's plan. The brutal elegance of using Roche's own obsessions against them.

The suite felt too small after Nikolai left, the air heavy with cigarette smoke and possibilities. Xavier's fingers never stopped moving across his keyboard. The quiet click of keys was a counterpoint to Xander's ragged breathing against my chest.

"You should try to rest," I told Xander, running a hand down his spine. "Tomorrow will be intense."

"Rest? While my brother helps me walk into a psychopath's lair?"

"It's not suicide if we maintain control of their systems," Xavier said, without looking up. "The statistical models suggest..."

"Fuck your statistical models." Xander pulled away from me, stalking toward his brother. "This isn't some computer game you can restart if something goes wrong."

"No." Xavier finally met his eyes. "This is real people dying while we waste time arguing about acceptable risks. This is Misha being prepped for preservation while we debate probability."

Xander flinched. My hands itched to pull him back, to shelter him from this brutal reality. But Xavier wasn't finished.

"You think I want this?" His voice stayed perfectly controlled. "Think I enjoy calculating the odds of your survival? But someone has to think tactically. Someone has to see the bigger picture."

"And that someone has to be you?" Xander's voice cracked. "Has to be my overprotective brother orchestrating this whole thing from behind a screen?"

"Better me watching your back through their security feeds than watching you try to handle this alone." Xavier's fingers stilled on his keyboard. "We both know you'd find a way to get yourself killed trying to save everyone by yourself."

The truth in those words hung heavy between them. I'd seen it myself in training, the way Xander would push himself past safe limits. The need to prove himself, to protect others at any cost.

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