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“No deal,” I say immediately, my voice stronger than I feel. “Both of them or nothing.”

Mikhail's expression hardens. “You're not in a position to negotiate, Vesper.”

“Aren't I?" I step closer, confidence in my stance. “You need me. If I'm truly the key to your grand revenge against the Petrovs, then I have leverage.”

“Don't,” Alex rasps, speaking for the first time since saying my name. “Vesper, don't do this.”

The guard behind him strikes him across the back of the head, sending him staggering forward. I flinch, a small sound escaping my throat as Alex catches himself on the edge of the desk.

“I admire your spirit,” Mikhail says. “But don't mistake my indulgence for weakness. I could kill them both right now and still proceed with my plans. It would simply be...less elegant.”

“Then why don't you? Why keep any of us alive if you don't need us?”

A flicker of something—respect, perhaps—crosses his face. “Because blood matters, Vesper. Legacy matters. The Vasilyev line continues through you...through your son.”

“Leave my son out of this,” I warn, ice in my veins at the mention of my child.

“Impossible. He is the culmination of everything I've worked toward, a Vasilyev, Rossi, and Petrov blood in one heir. The boy who will unite three dynasties under one rule. Under my tutelage.”

Alex makes a strangled sound, lurching forward only to be restrained by the guard.

“You’re never getting near my son,” I say, each word sharp and deliberate, laced with venom.

Mikhail smiles, unperturbed. “We shall see.” He gestures toward Alex. “Perhaps Mr. Rafner would like to share histhoughts on the matter.” He turns to address Alex directly. “Tell her what becomes of those who defy me.”

Alex's jaw tightens, a muscle twitching beneath the bruising.

“I've already told you my answer. Both of them, or no deal.”

Mikhail studies me for a long moment, his head tilted slightly as if seeing me anew. “So much like your mother. That same stubborn pride...”

He moves to the window, gazing out at the grounds. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken threats. My mind races, calculating how much time has passed.

“Very well.” Mikhail turns his back to face me. “A compromise, then. Your cooperation, and the return of both your brother and Mr. Rafner at the conclusion of our business. In exchange, I won’t kill Petrovs in the tunnels. Mr. St James, I believe, is circling the property.”

My blood freezes in my veins. The twins. Talon. He knows they're here.

“What are you talking about?” I force confusion into my voice, but Mikhail's cruel smile tells me he isn't fooled.

“Please, Vesper. Did you really think I wouldn't know about the tunnels? About your little rescue team making their way beneath our feet right now?” He gestures casually, and a guard moves to a panel beside the bookcase, pressing buttons on a keypad.

A monitor descends from the ceiling, splitting into four separate feeds. My heart sinks as I recognize Z and Oz making their way through the narrow passageway, weapons drawn, their faces set with determination. Another camera shows Talon circling the perimeter as he approaches the greenhouse.

“I've let them get quite far,” Mikhail remarks conversationally. “It seemed prudent to see what you would do. Whether you'd honor our meeting or attempt something...foolish.”

Alex silently shakes his head, pleading with me.

“So what now? You kill us all and proceed with your plans regardless?”

“That would be wasteful,” Mikhail says, sounding almost disappointed. “No, I think a demonstration is in order.” He turns to the guard. “Flood tunnel section C.”

“No!” I lunge forward, but the guard restrains me with brutal efficiency, his arm like a steel band across my chest. On the monitor, a wall of water surges through the tunnel, rushing toward the twins who have no idea what's coming. They have seconds at most.

“Stop this! I'll do whatever you want!” My voice cracks with desperation. “Please!”

Mikhail raises his hand, and the guard at the panel pauses, finger hovering over the button. The water on the screen halts its advance, held back by whatever mechanism controls the flood system.

“Your word, Vesper. I want your sworn oath that you'll cooperate fully. No tricks, no attempts at escape. Swear it on your son's life.”