Page 97 of The Last Hope

And this time, the tears spilled over, and he started crying, burying his face in my chest as I kissed the top of his head. Yes, Antonio would die in the most agonizing way possible.

Later that evening, after yet another failed call with one of my contacts within the Italians, I headed downstairs to find Elif. For the past three days, she hadn’t been herself—her gaze lost in the void, speaking little. She was just a shadow of herself.

Roman had to come home. My brother had to return. If he didn’t, my brothers and I would be shattered, but we’d rise again—to take revenge, to set every damn state in this country on fire.

But Elif—she wouldn’t survive it. She wouldn’t get back up. And if Elif didn’t get up, it would be the end of the Ivanovs as we knew them. We’d become nothing more than bloodthirsty killers.

I stepped into the living room, but it was empty. Following the faint sounds coming from the kitchen, I frowned when I heard Elif, Grigori, and Selina whispering.

“Are you sure this dose isn’t dangerous?” Grigori asked Selina.

“She’s a nurse, Grigori. She knows what she’s doing,” Elif responded weakly, leaning against him, wrapped in a thick cardigan—the same one she only wore during her period, when it was best to keep a three-meter distance from her.

“I’m sure. I would never hurt him…”

“Nikolai ?” Grigori suddenly called out, making both women jump.

Shit. Still as sharp as he was twenty years ago, the wolf.

I stepped into the room, and the first thing I noticed was how pale Selina looked, avoiding my gaze, while Elif tensed up. Yeah, they were definitely hiding something.

“What could be dangerous? And for whom?” I asked, moving closer to Selina.

“I think Dimitri is getting sick too, and since he doesn’t weigh as much as your boys, I was asking Selina if we could use the same medication,” Elif said, straightening up, her dark, exhausted eyes meeting mine.

And I held back my questions—for now.

“I… I’m going to check on the boys,” Selina said, quickly slipping past me to leave the room, without even looking at me. I followed her without hesitation and caught her at the foot of the stairs, gently grabbing her arm and turning her toward me.

“Selina ? Is everything okay ?” I asked.

She nodded, still avoiding my gaze.

“Selina, look at me,” I said softly, lifting her chin with my finger, finally catching her stunning green eyes. “Is there a problem?”

She hesitated at first, then finally sighed, “Nikolai, maybe if I talked to him, maybe he’d release Roman. As much as it disgusts me, I know him inside out, I know—”

I silenced her with a kiss, unable to bear the thought of her knowing anything about him, unable to imagine even for a second that she’d have to face that bastard.

I pulled away as she slowly opened her eyes.

“Forget it, Selina. Forget everything you know about him. And don’t worry about Roman—I’ll find a solution,” I said, kissing her forehead before pulling her into my arms.

My plan was beginning to form in my mind. Rafael was right—a sacrifice was necessary to save my brother.

But it wouldn’t be Selina.

It wouldn’t be Rafael.

It would be an Ivanov for another.

The next morning, sitting behind my desk after a sleepless night, I stared at the number on my phone screen—Antonio Rasili’s number. I was ready to propose a trade. But not the one he wanted.

I quickly shut off my phone when a knock sounded at the door, and Selina walked in with my sons.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, immediately standing, already on edge, expecting some new threat or complication.

“I need to get a shot,” Rafael said, glancing at his mother, who smiled at him.

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