Da’s brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t back down. “The implant saved her life. If it weren’t for that, we’d have no idea where she is right now.”
“That’s not the point,” I snap. “You made a decision about Catriona without tellin’ her. Without tellin’ me.”
“And I’d do it again if it meant keepin’ her alive.”
I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not right, Da. None of this is right.”
“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “But this is the world we live in. You know that better than anyone.”
I sigh, staring at the floor. “She’s going to hate us for this.”
“Maybe,” he says quietly. “But she’ll be alive to hate us. That’s what matters.”
I swallow hard, the words cutting deeper than I want to admit. Finally, I nod, though it feels more like surrender than agreement.
“Good,” Da says, stepping back. “Now, get ready. You’ve got work to do.”
I leave the office, knowing there’s no room for hesitation now. Cat and Marina are waiting, and I’ll be damned if I let anythingstand in the way of bringing them home. Not my anger. Not Nikolai. Nothing.
And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring them home. Even if it means swallowing my anger and trusting Nikolai—just this once.
Chapter 5
Connor
IfindMainthe solarium, her favorite room in the house. The late afternoon sun streams through the tall windows, glinting off the crystal whiskey tumbler in her hand.
She’s sitting on one of those fancy white chairs she insists are “just for decoration” but always uses anyway, her legs crossed elegantly like she’s still center stage. Even in her casual clothes, she carries herself like she’s about to perform Swan Lake for royalty.
With the figure of a prima ballerina, green eyes, and blonde hair down to her waist, my mother has always been the most beautiful woman to me. But the mouth on her could make a sailor blush.
“Come to kiss your ma goodbye before you bugger off on whatever shite your da’s cooked up this time?” she says without looking up, her Irish lilt as sharp as the gleam in her eye.
I grin despite myself, stepping inside. “Somethin’ like that.”
“Hmm.” She hums and takes a sip of her whiskey, finally lifting her head to meet my gaze. Her eyes narrow slightly. “You’re leavin’.”
It’s not a question. It never is with her. She just knows.
I nod. “Germany.”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she sets the tumbler on the side table with a little more force than necessary.
“Germany,” she repeats, her tone flat. “And I suppose your da told you not to tell me what for, hmm?”
I hesitate. It’s not like we make a habit of lying to her, but Da’s orders were clear—keep it quiet until the job’s done. Ma, however, doesn’t doquiet.“Ma, I can’t—”
“You know why, dont’cha?” she says, arching a brow. “Don’t bother lyin’, Connor. You’ve always been shite at it.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s Catriona and Marina. We know where they are.”
Her face goes still, her knuckles whitening as her hand grips the arm of the chair. “You’re bringin’ her back?”
“Of course,” I say, stepping closer. “Ma, I swear to you, I’ll bring her home.”
Her gaze sharpens, and she’s on her feet before I can say another word. “You swear, do you?” she mutters, pacing the length of the room. For a moment, the grace she carries vanishes, replaced by the raw energy of a mother on the edge. “My baby girl, locked away in God-knows-where because some arsehole thinks he can use her as leverage.”
“We’ve got a plan,” I tell her, keeping my voice steady. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Nikolai and Konstantin are goin’ with me.”