Page 172 of Ruthless Sin
He doesn’t react. He just nods.
He looks around the table.
“In a few days. South landing at midnight. The river by one. Plantation by four. Inside the house by four-thirty. Morozov does not see dawn. End of conversation.”
He stands.
Walks out.
The back room moves into final-prep mode.
Marco on comms with the river crew. His father’s old left boxing glove on the shelf above his station. The right one went with him. Renzo with the schematic, drawing entries on the brick building and the main house. Izzy running last patterns on the Stepan turn.
Cassia stays at my shoulder for one more breath.
Then she leans down.
Quiet. Just for me.
“You said you haven’t forgiven him.”
“No. Not yet.”
A pause.
“But you’re still going.”
“He doesn’t get another one. Not from me.”
She straightens. She doesn’t say anything else.
She walks past me toward the kitchen.
Nonna in the doorway tightens her hand on the rosary. She closes her eyes. Her lips move.
I look once at Nico across the table.
He is watching the schematic. The tape on his forearm under the rolled sleeve. The watch on his right wrist. He does not look up.
I walk out of the back room.
I walk past the medical wing. Sofia is still in surgery so I walk to my room.
The chain at my throat.
The folding knife on the dresser.
I sit on the edge of the bed.
The Tsvetaeva-in-translation on the nightstand.
I do not open it.
I look at the window.
The compound is quiet outside. The night is in.
Alexei does not get another.
