Page 136 of Unexpected Redemption

“We believe the target got a call,” Mia explains. “The light from the phone screen illuminates his face. We have visual.”

Hisface.Our first clue about who it is.

My gut plummets to the floor when I hear a frightened wail in the background, coming through behind Mia’s voice.

“Lettie?” I whisper-yell into my microphone, heart jumping into my throat. “What’s happening?”

“All good. Charlie Mike,” Klein instructs us.

In defiance, I seethe, “No, I’mnotcontinuing the fucking mission until I know if she’s okay.”

She’snotall right. She’s fucking terrified.

I know that fucking cry. I held her while she wailed and sobbed, making the same fucking sound. Far too many times in the last several weeks when flashbacks hit her, I loved her through it. Whatever she saw on the drone footage brought one on. Orwhoevershe saw.

“She’s okay, T. Stay focused,” Boss tries to mollify me.

“What’s wrong with Lettie? What did she see?”

They don’t answer, which tells me more than words could.

There’s only one fucking person who makes her wail like that.

Every time they open a mic line, I hear sounds that have been haunting me for weeks.

Enunciating each syllable, I demand, “Who is the fucking target? Mia? Klein? Boss? Someone fucking answer me.”

Rage blinds me.

A mic line opens from the lair, and Lettie’s muffled crying from the background reaches my ears once more. Her sobs are muted faintly by a feminine voice attempting to comfort her. Sue or Sammy, perhaps. At least she’s not alone.

With a pained, feminine sigh, Mia’s breath sails over the din, anguish woven into the sound of the air leaving her chest.

Abandoning my sector, I twist my frame and aim the muzzle of my SIG at the front of the vehicle. My finger drifts closer to the trigger, and a shiver born from the vengeance I’ve been carrying runs along my spine. “Who is the fucking informant, Mia?”

When she finally answers, it’s the last name I wanted to hear.

The one person Irefuseto negotiate with, even if it means taking down the whole fucking bratva. The man I’ve dreamed of killing since the day Lettie confirmed his involvement.

“It’s Viktor Lenkov.”

Chapter 30

If he wanted to, he would

LETTIE

No, no, no.

“I think the fuck not,” I seethe over Kri’s shoulder, pointing my finger at Boss in a warning.

If he does this, we arenotrelated anymore.

Unforgivable.

Standing, he approaches us cautiously. “Lettie, easy. Let’s think about this.”

“Kri, please let me go,” I inject faux calmness into my demeanor.

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