Grigor steps forward into the moonlight, hands raised slightly. He’s not armed—at least not visibly—though I’m certain he’s as dangerous unarmed as most men are with a machine gun.
“Perhaps because this meeting was not my idea,” he says calmly, as if my gun is a minor inconvenience. “I received a message claiming you wanted to discuss matters of mutual interest.”
The realization slams into me like a freight train. This is a setup. But who would dare—?
Rowan’s voice cuts through my fury as she steps out from inside the house.
Not just Rowan—but Rowan with Sofiya in her arms.
“What the f**k is this?” I direct the question at my wife, though my gun doesn’t waver from Grigor’s chest. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
Rowan’s green eyes—the same f*****g shade as the man standing across
