Page 102 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

Frowning, I glance at Demyan. He looks just as curious as I am. Turning back to my mother, I ask, “What do you mean?”

She tenses and glances at Demyan. “Maybe we should talk in private now?”

“Answer the question, Mother.”

She hesitates for another second before pushing on. “What if we ambush him at this meeting?”

“Ambush him?”

She nods. “Set a trap. We can pick a quiet restaurant where we can set the scene and then surround him while we’re at lunch and take him down.”

“Take him down?” I repeat. “As in, kill him?”

“Why not?” she asks. “It would put an end to the whole ordeal. He would be dead and there would be no one else to push the case against you.”

“Except the FBI,” I point out.

“They’ll lose interest soon enough,” she says. “They would have lost interest already if it weren’t for Robert Lawrence and Donald.”

“And do you imagine Lawrence would simply give up after I murdered his brother-in-law?”

“It would send a strong message to him.”

“That it would,” I muse to myself, stroking my chin. “Kill or be killed.”

“You are married to his sister,” she reminds me. “He’s not going to move against you. Especially now. She’s carrying your baby.”

“A baby he tried to abort.”

“And she fought for the child,” Yulia insists. “She chose you over them because of what they tried to make her do. Do you imagine he would try to force her hand again?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“He’s not that stupid.”

“Never underestimate the enemy,” I tell her. “People do stupid things when they’re desperate. And Robert Lawrence is nothing if not desperate.”

“So you’re not on board with the plan?”

“There are too many what-ifs,” I say. “Too many loose ends to tie up after the fact.”

“Like what?” she asks.

“Like the fact that Donald Hargrove is no ordinary citizen whose death will go unnoticed. He’s a media mogul who runs half this country. His death will be headline news.”

“We can control the narrative.”

“How?” I ask her. “The media lives in his pocket.”

She hesitates for a moment. “Well…”

“I have pull, too. But not enough to convince my victim’s own empire to dance to my tune. I’m not stupid enough to try. There is a difference between ambition and recklessness.”

My patience is wearing thin at this point. Not just because she’s wasting my time by trying to assume she knows better, but because this is history repeating itself.

The last time she decided to run things, she cost me my operation in Russia.

I won’t make that mistake twice.

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