said.

Ace had not been this blindsided since the betrayal that had landed her in Black Dolphin prison. It was the feeling of complete and utter uncertainty―so unfamiliar to her, when she craved control.

She still remembered it. Returning back from the interrogation room.

There had not even been time to wash the blood off her hands.

"She is right there, politsiya," Aleksi was saying calmly. "She is the one who murdered our parents."

Love is a fool's game, their mother had always said. It is conquered, or be conquered.

But Ace had never imagined she would have to worry about her brother. The one person she was supposed to rely on.

He had confessed to her, one night, that he had been the one to slaughter their mother and father. The king and queen of the Mafia.

Dead, in one night.

They blamed the Americans, of course. Aleksi had planned it out. He had wanted this war―between the mobsters in Chicago. He had wanted it so badly it had become a thirst, a hunger, and eventually an insatiable need. He had killed their parents, and he had called it an end to their ceasefire.

Ace had never loved her parents.

Her father―cruel and distant. Perhaps she had inherited it from him. But her mother, the queen, might have been the woman she grew up with . . . but Ace knew she was a bastard child. Aleksi's half-sister.

She didn't know who her real mother was. Doubted she would ever know.

Once, the queen had spat, You are the daughter of a whore.

Afterwards, Aleksi had consoled her. He had blue eyes, just like her, with the same blonde hair. He would wipe away her tears and say, Moya dorogava, do not let her words hurt you. You must be strong. You will stand with me, one day, and we will rule together.

But that day, with the blood on her hands, Ace had returned from the interrogation room tot find him talking to a police officer.

It was no secret the Mafia controlled the government.

At first, Ace was not afraid.

She should have been.

"Right there, politsiya," Aleksi said, his beautiful face contorting into a sob. "She confessed to me―she killed Mama and Papa. They never loved her, and she wanted revenge. Please. I can not look at her."

Ace had only stood there, shaking her head.

What are you doing, brother?

If he wanted to, he could stop them. As the prince, he had that power. Their uncle may have inherited in the event of their parents' deaths, but everyone knew Aleksi would one day inherit when Dyadya Vladimir died. If his death was not arranged first, by Aleksi himself.

"What do you mean?" Ace said, still betraying no emotion. "What proof is there that I killed our parents?"

Aleksi's face was still twisted with agony. Believable.

Ace had never been able to perform that well, to lie with that much persuasion. Her powers had better lied in ice, in stone.

There were twenty-three officers.

She knew because as they approached, she counted them. And as they buckled their handcuffs, preparing their tasers. It was no secret the politsiya enjoyed their jobs.

Twenty-three.

Aleksi had known. Had prepared them.

She did not have to say it―You betrayed me―to know it. His stare on hers was ruthless as the officers lunged.

She took down nineteen of them.

Nineteen―before they tasered her. Before electricity soared through her veins, and she spasmed uncontrollably in the arms of an officer.

"I will visit you in prison," Aleksi had vowed, and he wiped away a single tear as they hauled her away.

We will rule together one day.

"Her answer is yes," Isla repeated confidently, dragging Ace into her bedroom. Dora The Explorer posters and Princess Sofia blankets were spread over the small area. There was a neon mirror on the dresser, and several stickers of something that looked like a fat mouse wearing only a shirt and a tiny white stuffed animal named Binoo.

Isla crossed her arms, and for a moment, she looked strikingly like her mother.

Ace faltered.

"Well?" Isla demanded in a whisper. "You're going to say yes, right?"

"Love is a fool's game," Ace said instinctively.

You're the daughter of a whore.

"Who cares?" Isla said, throwing up her hands. "You can both be fools. I don't see anything wrong with fools. I don't think you should fool-shame."

There was a soft knock on the door.

"I'm going to give you two some privacy," Isla grumbled, and she slipped past Mavis, closing the door behind her.

"Ace―Alisa Anastasia-Whatever," Mavis began. "I don't know how things work in Russia, and a marriage of convenience probably isn't ideal to you, but . . ."

"Yes," Ace said.

"A marriage of convenience isn't ideal?"

"Yes, I will marry you."

"You'll . . . wait, you'll marry me?"

For a moment, Ace couldn't breathe. Mavis had a beauty mark beneath the corner of one eye, and she had the irresistible urge to touch it . . . to touch her. Her warm brown skin was dewy, and her wide, expressive eyes were like liquid.

Ace's idea of beauty, before she had come here, had been long legs and perfect white skin and bright blue eyes. She had never considered that she had a type―all women were beautiful to her―but she was used to Russian girls. Slender hips. Tall and willowy.

Mavis was . . . she was lush with curves and warmth and vibrancy. There was confidence in the sway of her round hips. Ace still remembered the way her thick thighs had straddled that pole. And in that shade of red . . .

Boginya. Goddess.

Ace did not think she would ever set eyes on someone like Mavis. Someone who moved like salvation and damnation combined.

Even with all the blood on her hands, Ace knew that if God himself offered her redemption, she would turn down paradise for this beautiful woman.

And she knew she would, because she had.

Because the moment she had decided not to kill Mavis Griffon, she had sentenced herself to every kind of hell.

Aleksi would find her. He always did.

But this time, she was not only walking straight back into the pit. She was bringing this woman with her.

It would be better. If she were strong, she would do it now.

With a steady hand, Ace removed the gun from the inside of her jacket.

"I am sorry," she said, sliding her fingertip over the trigger.

Mavis's eyes widened. She stumbled back. "What . . . what are you doing?"

In the neon pink light of Isla's room, with posters of Aladdin and Toy Story draped over the walls and a bracelet-making kit spilled onto the carpet, Ace drew in a breath. I am doing what I should have done in the beginning.

"It is better do this now," Ace said. "I was weak. I had a mission."

"No," Mavis breathed. "There was a reason you told me in the first place. There was a reason you didn't go through with it!"

"I am too late," Ace murmured. "It might already not be enough."

The gun had never been so cold in her hand.

Metal and the copper scent of blood was slippery against her palm. What would it look like, when there was a bullet in Mavis's head?

"Don't you dare," Mavis threatened. "Don't you fucking dare, blondie."

Blondie. Dazed, Ace allowed herself a moment of surprise.

Mavis took a step towards her. Towards the gun.

It was Ace's turn to ask, "What are you doing?"

"You wanted to kill me," Mavis said in a fierce, trembling voice. "Go ahead. I'm giving you the chance. You won't miss, so if you really want to . . . why don't you just take your chance?"

"I was ordered to kill you," Ace said roughly. "I should have already done this. I shouldn't have been weak."

A smirk graced Mavis's lips, and though Ace noticed the almost imperceptible shake of her hands, Mavis said, "Then what are you waiting for?"

Kill me.

Ace tightened her finger on the trigger.

I am doing what I should have already done.

She did not want to like Mavis. She did not want to like her daughter. If she killed Mavis now, no one would ever know about the offer she had made.

Run away with me.

She had never been so foolish, so reckless in her life.

She still did not regret it.

That is why, she told herself, I have to do this.

But her fingertip didn't squeeze down. Didn't give the trigger the pressure it needed to release. No bullets were fired, but the air between them remained heavy. Tense.

"I believe, in a person's life, there are only a few moments that define whether they go to hell or not. There have been five in my life, and sometimes . . . sometimes, I am afraid I am only one moment away from damnation. When I saw you, I knew that if I went through with it―if I killed you, the way I should have―you would be my last moment. There would be nothing good, nothing left of me." Ace let the gun slip from her hand, allowing it to hit the floor with a thud. "I did not kill you. I do not want to ever kill you. So all I have is one question, Mavis Griffon. Where is the nearest church?"

Mavis laughed shakily. "Just to be clear, it's only a marriage in paper. Just so that if . . . if . . . if anything ever happens to me, social services won't have Isla."

"I understand," Ace said.

"And . . . it's not going to be consummated or anything," Mavis added. "We'll get married, and that's it. It's just so that Isla has a legal guardian."

"Of course. Only in paper."

"Then . . . come on, Ace Alisa Anastasia Ivanova Morozova. We're in Las Vegas, and if there's one thing Sin City is famous for, it's eloping. Let's go to Chapel Hill."

"We have until dawn," Ace said. "Galina will return with reinforcements by tomorrow afternoon. We need to disappear by then."

"Okay." Mavis rocked back and forth on her heels, steadying her hands against the hem of her shirt. She let out a breath, blowing stray pieces of hair from her face. "Okay, then let's get married tonight."

"Perfect!" Isla said, opening the door. "I'll be the maid of honour."

Mavis scowled. "No, you'll be staying over at Jennie's house tonight."

"No, I'm the matchmaker! I have to be the maid of honour."

"She has to be the maid of honour," Ace said reasonably.

"I have a wedding to prepare!"

"You're seven," Mavis snapped, shooting a burning glare in Ace's direction.

Ace added, "It is the best way to keep her safe."

Isla bounced up and down. "Exactly! I want to be safe!"

Mavis sighed, and Ace couldn't help the slight smile that curved her own lips. "Fine," Mavis seethed. "But first things first . . . I think I'm going to need a wedding dress."

Isla beamed. "This is what I've been waiting for my whole life."