Page 63 of His Hold

“What?”

“Offer yourself as hostage to ensure Irina’s release.” He tilts his head. “You did it for Dmitri once, and you’re doing it now for Kirill. You can do it for me too. Prove you’re in, and I’ll cut Irina loose.”

The cold calculation behind his eyes tells me everything I need to know. He has no intention of honoring our deal. The moment he has me, Katya and Irina will both be vulnerable.

“Fine,” I say, as if resigned. “I agree.”

His brows shoot up. “You’re not kidding.”

“Nope.” I spit on my hand, holding it out.

“Blood oath. Me for her. Katya’s safety too. Break it, and I’ll rip you apart.”

He stares, then spits on his own hand, gripping mine hard. “Deal.”

Relief washes over his face. Relief and triumph. He thinks he’s won.

We shake hands, his grip firm. Blood from my cut palm smears between us.

“Let’s finalize the details,” he says, gesturing toward his SUV. “Somewhere more comfortable.”

I nod, following him.

He thinks he’s got me hooked, but I don’t trust this guy an inch. He’s too volatile, too obsessed with his revenge. Katya’s future is riding on this, and I’m not leaving it to chance.

My fingers brush the detonator in my pocket. The one connected to the charges I had Rurik plant while Roman was distracted with me.

Roman talks as we walk, laying out his vision for the future—his future. I listen, nodding at the appropriate moments.

Close to the vehicle, he turns to me one last time. “You know what I admire about you, Nikolai? Your practicality. Family sentiment makes men weak. You understand that business comes first.”

I smile. “I understand a lot of things.”

When we’re twenty paces from the SUV, I press the detonator. The explosion lights up the forest, a blinding flash followed by a wave of heat that washes over us. Roman’s mouth forms a perfect O of surprise before the blast throws him forward.

I’m already moving, diving behind a fallen tree as debris rains down. When the echoes fade, I stand and walk to where Roman lies stunned, his legs pinned beneath a twisted chunk of metal.

“You...” he gasps, blood bubbling from his lips.

I kneel beside him. “You should have let Irina go.”

“We had a deal,” he spits.

“We did. But I know men like you, Roman. You don’t honor deals. You use them.” I press my gun against his temple. “Katya is off-limits. So is Irina. So is everyone I care about. That was the only real deal here.”

His eyes widen as understanding dawns. “You never intended—”

“No.”

The bullet makes a surprisingly small sound in the open air. I stand, watching flames consume what’s left of the SUV, spreading to the trees nearby. I should feel something—regret, perhaps, or at least the weight of what I’ve done. But all I feel is certainty.

For Katya, I would burn the whole world down.

I walk away from the inferno, the heat warming my back as I head toward where Pavel waits with our escape vehicle. I turn to his leftover guys captured by my reinforcement and remaining men, stumbling out, shell-shocked. “Who’s gonna tell me where Irina is?” I ask, drawing my gun again.

A skinny kid, blood trickling down his face, throws his hands up. “I know! Don’t shoot!”

“Spill,” I say, closing in.

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