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Mikhail's expression remains impassive. "Lower your weapon, or I'll give my men the order to kill them all. Starting with your precious brother."

One of his men presses a gun to Luca's temple. My brother's eyes meet mine, fierce and unafraid despite the blood trickling down his face.

"Don't you dare give in to him, Vesper," Luca calls out. "He'll kill us anyway."

I think of Z and Oz, bleeding on the chapel floor. Of Victor's final words. Of my son, waiting at a hunting lodge I've never seen.

"Five seconds," Mikhail says coldly. "Four.

"Three..." Mikhail continues, his voice steady as a metronome marking the seconds until my brother's execution.

"Two..."

"One..."

I lower my weapon, a smile spreading across my face as I do. Mikhail's expression shifts, confusion replacing triumph as he registers my unexpected reaction.

“You’ve come to your senses, child. Good.”

“No,” I smile. "You misunderstand, Grandfather. I don't need this gun.” From the corner of my eye, I see movement above us. "Not when I have them," I say, pointing upward.

Mikhail follows my gesture just as dozens of figures rise from the chapel's balcony—men and women with weapons trained on his men below. Our reinforcements. Their faces are hard,determined, marked by the same hunger for justice that's driven me.

"What is this?" Mikhail hisses, his composure cracking for the first time.

"Your reckoning, Mikhail," I answer.

The color drains from Mikhail’s face as he takes in the armed figures surrounding us from above. Men and women of all ages stand shoulder to shoulder, weapons steady in their hands as they aim at his men below. Some wear the haunted expressions of those who’ve lost everything. Others burn with the hard, unyielding focus of vengeance long denied.

“Did you really think I’d walk into Victor’s stronghold without a plan?” I spit. “While you were scheming to use me as bait, I was building my own army—every family you’ve destroyed, every mother, father, sister, and brother left grieving because of you.”

Mikhail’s men shift, the unease rippling through their ranks as they realize they’re surrounded—and outnumbered. The guard holding Luca loosens his grip for a split second, just enough for my brother to slam an elbow into his gut and twist free.

Chaos erupts.

Talon surges up, driving his shoulder into the nearest guard and wrenching the weapon from his hands. Alex moves with brutal efficiency, dropping two of Mikhail’s men before they can even react.

"This ends now. Put your weapons down or die along with him. Your choice."

To my surprise, Mikhail's men hesitate, looking to their leader for direction. The old man stands alone now, abandoned by his guards as they assess the overwhelming odds against them.

"You ungrateful child," he spits, his face contorting with rage. "After everything I gave you?—"

"Everything you gave me?" I interrupt, taking a step closer. "You gave me torture. You gave me captivity. You gave me the fear that my son would grow up without a mother."

My voice rises, echoing through the bullet-riddled chapel. "You turned me into a weapon, yes. But not the one you intended."

Mikhail’s pale eyes flick between the armed figures above and the chaos erupting below. For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks every bit his age—frail, cornered, desperate.

“You’ve lied to me from the beginning. Used me. Manipulated me. Violated me—for your revenge.” My voice shakes, but I don’t lower the gun. “I’m done being a fucking pawn on your chessboard.”

“Everything I did was for our family,” he snaps, the edge in his voice returning. “The Vasilyev name was going to die with me. I needed an heir worthy of our legacy.”

Movement behind me pulls my attention. Luca limps toward us, supported by Alex. Blood stains the side of his suit, but there’s a fierce determination in his eyes as he fixes our grandfather with a look sharp enough to cut glass.

“I was never supposed to be your heir,” I say coldly, keeping the weapon steady. “I was meant to be a vessel. Just like my mother. Just like Luca. Just like every child you’ve stolen and broken.”

Luca’s gaze meets mine, and in that instant, the years of silence, pain, and betrayal fall away. Despite the blood and bruises, he straightens his spine and nods—wordless, but solid. We are done being pawns.