Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Parking up outside Artyom’s condo, I try to tame this darkness in me. That’s always been a fear of mine—wondering if whatever evil impulses drove our father are nestled deep inside me. I can usually keep the darkness at bay, but now, with my woman, I’m almost panting, my teeth gritted, wanting to roar.
My fucking woman.
Stepping from the car, I check my holster and slowly approach the house. The street is quiet, my footsteps seeming loud, my breath somehow seeming louder. I walk around the large complex, finding Artyom’s rear window and stalking it. An alarm will probably sound when I smash the glass, but—
“I knew you’d come,” Artyom says from behind me. I recognize his gravelly voice from the few times I’ve worked with him, but the last time was a couple of years ago. He’s more heavily involved in the illegitimate, not the legit side of the business.
I turn slowly. He’s standing at the fence which separates his small courtyard area from the next. He was waiting for me in the next yard, and when he heard me, he opened the small gate. His pistol glints in the moonlight as he aims it at me. He’s a big man, almost my size, his eyes dark, hard, and unflinching.
“I guess this ends here, then,” I say, opening and closing my fists.
I’ve stared death in the face many times. I could usually keep calm, but now I’m thinking of Lia. I’m thinking of her narrowing her eyes as she stares at her canvas, biting the end of her paintbrush, the brave smile on her face as she folds her arms, glaring at me, pouting, so cute, so perfect, so mine.
I don’t want to die. As obvious as that would seem to other people, it hits me like a revelation. I don’t want to leave Lia behind.
Artyom sighs. “Are you going to come easily?”
I wait for his backup to arrive. I’m alone because I don’t know who to trust, but where are his men? When he sees me looking, he sighs. “It’s just me, sir. Just me.”
“Sir,” I spit. “Don’t pretend you’ve got any respect for the Sokolovs now.”
“I’ve got even less respect for the Petrovs,” he snaps.
I search his dark eyes, my heartbeat thudding so heavily it’s like I can hear it in my ears. “I’m guessing they made promises they couldn’t keep.”
Artyom laughs grimly. “That’s all this life is, Sokolov, promises never kept.”
“Maybe with my father,” I tell him, “but that’s over now.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t talk your way out of this. We both know you’re not letting me get away with what happened.”
“Be specific,” I growl. “If I’m dying tonight, I’d rather do it without games.”
“Listen, Sokolov. I know you care about the girl.” My bones go cold. “I could see that when we were following you. You don’t smile like that for anybody else. That’s what I told him.”
“Told who? Nikolai Petrov?”
“Who else?” Artyom says. “Your old man and he made some deals.”
“I’ve still got two weeks to marry his daughter.”
That’s never going to happen. I can’t even imagine marrying and wanting Mila—wanting anybody who isn’t Lia. Artyom doesn’t need to know that.
“It’s time we took a walk,” he says.
He doesn’t want to shoot me here, outside his condo, despite the silencer attached to his gun. People will wake up and call the cops. I square my shoulders. “This is as good a grave as any.”
“Do you think I’m squeamish, Sokolov?” he says. “I’ve got to leave the city anyway. Nikolai’s orders. Apparently, I’m too hot.”
“He’s got a point,” I say, hearing the indecision in his voice, wondering if and how I can use it. “After what you did, but you’ve been honest, Artyom. You admitted to everything easier than I ever would’ve guessed. That means something.”
“Don’t,” he says sharply. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t hurt Lia. That’s good for you. It means I don’t have to do anything. We can work through this together.”
“No, Sokolov.” His hand trembles. I can hear the uncertainty in his voice and see it in how he stands. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry Nikolai didn’t make you rich. You’re sorry your little plan didn’t work. You’re sorry—”
I can’t say anything else. I hear the shot before it hits me. That can’t be true, but that’s what it feels like. It thuds into my chest, and I collapse backward, wheezing, gasping, and staring up at the stars.
Artyom comes and stands over me, aiming the gun at my head. “I really am, you know,” he says. “Not just for you, but for your brother and your lady, too.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I breathe.
“Mila is Nikolai’s daughter, Dimitri,” he says. “Who do you think she’s going to be loyal to?”
CHAPTER 14
DAHLIA
Iwake to a light tapping on my bedroom door. I don’t know if wake is the right way to think about it. It’s not like the sleep was deep or anything. Every few minutes, I’d wake up, sleep clinging to my eyes, wondering what was happening to Dimitri.