"For now," Victor says. "I'm working on it. I have contacts who can forge exit papers, bribe the right officials. But it's going to take time."
"How much time?"
"A few days. Maybe a week."
"A week?" My voice rises, and I take a step toward him. "You just told me there's a twenty-five-million-dollar bounty on my head and every killer in Europe is coming for it, and you want me to sit here for a week?"
Victor doesn't flinch.
"I want you to sit here and protect Elena," he says. "Because if we leave, if we try to run before we have everything in place, we'll lead them straight to her."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I glance over at the hall that leads to where she's sleeping.
"As much as you want to, you can't fight the entire Bratva, Adrian. Not without a plan."
"I can try," I say through gritted teeth.
Victor exhales slowly.
"Give me a few days," he says. "Let me secure the exit. Then we can all get out of here safely."
"And what do I do in the meantime?" I demand. "Sit here and wait for them to find us?"
"You play defense," Victor says. "And you kill anyone who tries to take her."
I stare at him as every instinct in my body screams at me to move, to act, to go to Moscow and tear the entire Volkov Bratva apart with my bare hands.
But Elena is asleep in the next room, and she's what this is all about.
I nod slowly. "I can do that."
Victor's expression softens slightly, and he claps a hand on my shoulder.
"Good."
He walks over and picks up his coat, putting it back on.
"I have to go. I have a meeting with a Swiss official in an hour. If I can convince him to look the other way, we'll be out of here by the end of the week."
"And if you can't?"
Victor smiles. "Then maybe we'll bust out of here gun blazing like you want to."
The door shuts behind him, and the silence rushes back in.
I stand there for a moment, going over everything.
Once I'm satisfied, I turn and walk back down the hallway and push Elena's door open.
She's still asleep, curled on her side now with one hand tucked beneath her cheek.
I move to the chair beside her bed, sinking into it slowly, my body aching with exhaustion.
But I don't close my eyes.
Instead, I pull the gun from the back of my waistband and set it on my lap, my fingers curling around the grip.