Chapter 76
Aldo
Everything in me wanted to protest to this new plan. To tell Layla she was wrong, that there was no way this could be allowed to happen. She wasn’t just putting herself in danger—she was using herself as goddamned bait!
How on Earth could I let something like that happen, encourage it, even? Tailor a plan around it? It was madness.
But the strategist in me—the one who wanted to win this war before anyone else died—knew she was right. It was logical, calculated, a weakness we hadn’t yet thought to exploit.
A weapon we hadn’t yet tried to use.
“I think I might have an idea for this,” I said, my voice a low murmur in the quiet of the office. Just because she was a weapon we hadn’t yet used, that didn’t mean I hadn’t considered it.
Orlov set his vodka glass down with a crack. “You can’t be serious? You want to use my granddaughter as bait?”
“It would work.” I leaned over the desk to point to a location on the map: a sprawling factory complex on the outskirts of the city. “This is one of Marco’s strongholds. It’s fortified, but it’s also the perfect place for an ambush. If we can lure him there, we’ll have the advantage.”
“And that’s where I come in.” Layla leaned forward to study the aforementioned factory complex. On the map, it didn’t look like much.
My heart twisted inside my chest at the calmness of her voice, the cool and calculated way she’d named herself the bait of our mousetrap. How completely she’d embraced her role as the woman at my side.
Like she’d been born for it.
But she was right. She was a critical part of my plan, and I could only agree, “Yes. That’s where you come in.”
“But why would he follow me into a factory—an obvious trap?” She tilted her head up towards me, brows arched in question. “Wouldn't he see right through that?”
“He’s obsessed with you. Believes he’s in love,” I said, tone firm but gentle. “If he thinks you’re vulnerable, takeable, he’ll come for you. No matter what.”
“How can you possibly know that?” she scoffed.
“You’re his weakness, Layla,” I murmured. “Same as you are my weakness. If I saw you out in the open, unprotected … there’s nothing I would do to reach you. He’s not that different from me, at the end of the day.”
Layla’s face hardened into sharp lines, but she nodded, mouth tight with understanding. She didn’t like it, but it made sense.
Orlov grinned, the glint in his eye almost predatory. “A classic bait-and-trap. I like it.”
“Only if Layla agrees.” I turned my gaze to her, and something in my chest melted at the sight of her radiating determination. “You don’t have to do this.”
Truly, the perfect fit for this role. My perfect match.
“I’ll do it.” No hesitation marked her voice, and her hands clenched into tight fists. Layla Bennett was the strongest woman I knew.
“You wouldn’t be alone,” I assured her, even though she hadn’t asked. “We’ll have men stationed throughout the factory, ready to strike the moment Marco shows his face.”
Carlo chimed in, his voice calm. “It’s risky, yes. But it’s the best chance we have to end this war before it destroys everything.”
He met my gaze, and informed me of his approval with a quick nod of his chin. He understood how it hurt me, to put her in danger like this. But we both knew the logic of it.
This might be our only way to end the war. And if it could bring peace, if it could keep my son safe—We had to do it, right?
The plan was simple enough.
Dmitri’s men would infiltrate the factory ahead of time—in the stealthiest way possible. No one would realize he was there, and his men would hide themselves in secure locations.
Mine would surround the area, cutting off any possible escape routes.
Layla would be taken to a Marcello-owned property adjacent to the factory in one of my vehicles, with a small but visible escort. The goal was to make it appear as though she was being transferred to a secure location, vulnerable and lightly guarded.
Marco’s men, surely, would track her. Would note how close she was to one of his strongholds. And they would make an attempt to take her.
At which point, our combined forces would close in, eliminating his guards and capturing him.
Simple.
Right.
Nothing was ever that simple, not in battle. Not in war. Not when dealing with enemies like Marco. He was smart, strategic, and he’d surely have his own contingencies in place.
The meeting wore down, and Orlov and Carlo took their leave of my office. But Layla lingered, a pensive look sketched over her features.
“You don’t have to do this,” I reminded her. “If you want to back out, we’ll find another way.”
Her mouth hardened into a firm line. “No. This has to end, Aldo. And if this is what it takes, I’m all in.”
“I’ll protect you.” I reached across the desk to twine my fingers through hers. “No matter what it takes, no matter what happens, I will be there for you.”
“I know,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “And I trust you. With my life. With my son. With my world. With everything.”
I trust you. How long had I yearned to hear those words? And to have my fingers wound through hers like this, her warm skin against mine? How long had I craved for her to look at me like she did now—like I truly was her whole world.
“You’ve given up so much to be here,” I murmured. “To be with me. At my side.”
“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” No hesitation in her voice, or in the determined set of her mouth. In the unblinking resolve in her gaze. “Not just for Eli. But for us. Because we’re meant to be together.”
“Whatever it takes,” I agreed.
“Through thick and thin.”
“War and peace.”
“Hopefully more peace than war.” Her mouth quirked into a sad smile. “I’m tired of all the fighting. And that’s really why I’m doing this. Not just for Eli or for the city. Because I’m so fucking tired of fighting, Aldo.”
“Me too,” I agreed, and the silence that fell between us was soft and comfortable, warm, like the summer air outside.
“I’m going to bed now.” She stood, extracted her fingers from mine, but leaned over to plant a kiss against my temple. “You still have work to do?”
I nodded, and tilted my mouth up to meet hers. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I watched her walk through the door, my heart aching at the thought of what was to come. I’d promised to protect her—but was that a promise I could truly make, keep?
The grandfather clock in the hall struck midnight, its bareful tones warbling through the quiet estate. Uneasy silence hung like a heavy blanket over my office.
We’d made our plans, set them in motion. The final battle was coming, and soon, there would be no turning back.
In the distance, the faint hum of the city served as a reminder of everything we were fighting for. And I could only turn my gaze up and pray that this would be the end of it—that this war, this chaos, would finally give way to peace.
