Page 56 of Hers to Command

Chapter Twenty-Three

Anya

My nerves are shot and I’m barely keeping it together. This plan has so many holes in it, it might as well be nonexistent.

Riccardo is right. I’m being reckless.

But at least I’m doing something.

That’s the only thing that keeps me going.

Nobody believed in me, so I am fucking going to do it for myself. Even if this plan is as close to stupid as it gets. For fuck’s sake.

I’m a smart person. I know I am. So why can’t I see any better options?

Simple. It’s because any other plan would require me to rely on help from someone and relying on other people means risking that they’ll mess things up for me. And asking for help means more ways this could go public. Which I can’t risk. Not when I’m so close to actually getting what I want.

Power. A position in my own right.

Respect.

A life where I determine my own worth and don’t have to wait for someone else to see something that’s worth sticking around for.

Through the back office, I watch Katja dancing as Dmitri walks in. I didn’t enter the club through the main door so I’m confident that even if there are men here who now work for Dmitri, none of them know I’m here. I even parked my father’s car a few blocks over and walked the rest, just in case.

It doesn’t take the slimy asshole long before he signals for Katja. The suspicious part of me has me crossing my fingers. Katja is the weak link. Assuming there is even a chain to speak of. I hope I offered her enough to ensure she doesn’t cave.

As expected, she leads him to room number seven, confirming Eric’s intel. She opens the door and gestures to something inside, then she closes the door again and leads him two doors further down the hallway. Two of his men follow along and take position on either side of room number nine’s door after Dmitri follows Katja inside.

They didn’t check the inside. Good.

Now the clock starts ticking. I need Katja to play her part and keep him occupied long enough for me to set things in motion.

Room number nine is at the end of the hallway. Room seven conveniently has a nonexistent ceiling leak, as demonstrated by the stripped bed and the bucket of water standing in the room, which meant Katja had to take him to my preferred room instead.

It was a fifty-fifty chance that Dmitri would believe it, but since he’s probably got his dick thinking at the moment, I got away with it. If I hadn’t, I would have had to try something else. Maybe on another day. Or choose to rely on Riccardo’s help instead.

But it worked.

I take several deep breaths.

The two men standing guard glance at each other briefly before settling into their positions. They’re relaxed, arms crossed, but attentive enough.

I grit my teeth. This part of the plan is the shakiest. I can’t exactly walk up and take them out myself without drawing the attention of the whole damn club. If I’d even manage to pull the trigger.

I’m a great shot, but I’ve never shot a person before. This plan is dependent on me changing that, and I’m sure enough that I can pull the trigger when faced with Dmitri. But random guards?

I feel for the gun in my waist-holster and wait.

Two whole minutes.

That’s how long it takes before the door cracks open. I hold my breath, pressing myself against the wall around the corner. Dmitri leans out, his shirtless silhouette framed by the dim hallway light.

“There is a second door to this room. Go secure it.”

The guards exchange a glance. One hesitates, his hand twitching toward his waistband. “Want us to come through and check the room, too?”

“Fuck no. Go around the building or something. I’m busy.” The door slams in their faces.

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