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Vesper leans over my shoulder, her scent, a mixture of her vanilla shampoo and something distinctly Z, tickling my nostrils as she studies the screen. Her finger traces the list of family names, each one representing a potential ally...or enemy.

“And Russia?”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “A few, but not as many as I would have liked.”

The disappointment is evident in her expression. “So what do we do with this information?” She looks between the three of us.

“We rally them to join our cause," I say, my mind already mapping out potential alliances. “Your grandfather didn’t just terrorize his own grandchildren. There are others. Dozens. If they help us, it could mean getting their missing family members back."

Z moves closer, his hand coming to rest on Vesper's lower back in a gesture that seems unconscious. “You're suggesting we build an army.”

“I'm suggesting we build a coalition,” I correct him, though the distinction may be semantic. “The Collector has been playing these families against each other for decades. What if we show them they have a common enemy?”

Talon nods slowly, understanding dawning across his features. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Talon finishes,leaning forward with renewed energy. “We turn The Collector's own tactics against him.”

“Exactly,” I nod, scrolling through the files. “Mario had dirt on nearly every major family. Enough leverage to force cooperation if needed.”

Vesper's fingers hover over the screen, tracing the names of powerful families who've suffered under The Collector's reign of terror. "But will blackmail really make them fight for us? We need loyalty, not reluctant allies who might turn on us at the first opportunity."

“Not blackmail,” I clarify. “Common cause. Mario has been watching The Collector closely. Some of these files have names, dates, and proof of which ones are still alive.”

Z's expression darkens. “And which ones aren't.”

“We offer them something more valuable than money or power,” I continue. “We offer them closure. Or better yet, the chance to get their loved ones back.”

Vesper straightens, “How many?”

“Fourteen confirmed still alive, including your brother. Mario didn’t have the locations, though, so that is a problem, but it’s a start.”

“Fourteen families who might help us.”

I nod, already calculating odds and alliances in my head. “Plus, whatever other information we can extract from these files. Mario was thorough.”

“But we still have the same problem,” Talon interjects. “Even with allies, how do we get to Victor Petrov? His compound might as well be on the moon for all the good fourteen crime families will do for us.”

Vesper stills. “Then we get him to open the doors by giving him what he wants, Rossi-Petrov heirs.”

“Absolutely not!” Z's roar drowns out everything else as he lunges forward, his face contorted with rage.

“That's suicide—” Talon shouts, rising from his chair so quickly that it topples backward.

“We're not using you as bait—” I start, my voice colliding with my brother's furious objections.

The three of us talk over each other, our protests colliding into a chaotic roar that fills the apartment. Z paces like a caged animal, gesturing wildly as he curses in Russian, while Talon’s voice rises to match his, sharp and unrelenting. I’m already running through alternate scenarios in my head, rattling them off one after another—but no one’s listening. No one’s hearing anyone.

“ENOUGH!” Vesper slams her palm against the table with such force that my laptop jumps.

The room falls silent instantly. She stands tall, chin raised, that familiar steel in her spine that I've always admired.

“It's the only way. Victor Petrov wants his dynasty secured more than anything. Yes, he has my son now, but he will want more security. More heirs. Bianca can’t give him that. I can.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Z seethes, crossing the room to tower over her. “I am not selling you off to my uncle. Not now, not ever.”

Where most people would crumble under his rage, she only seems to grow stronger, more resolute.

“Think about it,” she says. “Really think about it. Bianca and Mario needed my son. They needed a true Rossi heir to secure their position. Victor doesn't know about him yet. What better way to topple his empire and legacy than from within?”

Z shakes his head violently. “No.”