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I’m seized with a rage I’ve never known. Timur was behind this. He framed Arman. The man I loved died believing he had failed in his life’s purpose: to protect me.
“You’ll have to kill me,” I hiss. “I’m not afraid to die.”
“And your niece and nephew?” He presses his body to mine, and I recoil in disgust. “Your friend Heidi, her family? There’s no limit to the number of people I could fuck up if you choose to be selfish.”
Maybe this is my destiny. Arman did love me, but now he’s gone, and I’m back in my lane, ready to be exploited and used. Would it have been better never to have had love at all?
I can’t give up, not now. Arman may not be here to protect me, but the lessons I learned from him are like armor around my heart.
“Vlad will live, and he’ll never let this bullshit slide,” I say, my word sharp as blades. “Are you so narcissistic that you believe you can say something, and it becomes reality? My family loved Arman, and they love me. Your plan will never work, so leave and never come back.”
I bring my knee up hard between Timur’s legs, and he roars, releasing one of my wrists. Before I can go for his eyes, he punches me in the temple, and my consciousness narrows to a single point of light.
No no no don’t pass out stay awake…
I try to dodge him, but he grabs me around my waist and spins me, pinning me to the counter.
“You cunt,” he snarls in my ear. “You wanna be with your man? I’ll take you to where he is, and you can join him, but not before I fuck you. I promised Arman I would, and I’m a man of my word.”
I’m struggling desperately, but my energy is waning. I think of Arman, the life draining from him, frantic as he imagined me raped and enslaved by this sick man?
Timur might kill me, but I’ll make him bleed first. You’re bratva, Lilyana. Fight him!
Napoleon appears from nowhere and leaps onto Timur’s shoulder, clawing at his face. Timur cries out in pain and swipes at him, giving me the chance I need, and I bring my elbow back, connecting with bone. Timur reels and smashes his head on the cupboard, and I squirm free, making for the door.
I bolt down the corridor, stopping at the stairwell door. Timur appears in the apartment doorway, bloodied and raging, but he’s still coming after me.
There’s nothing to do but run.
45
One hour earlier…
Arman
Iopen my eyes but can’t see. The darkness is enveloping and dense, and a dank, earthy scent fills my nose as I move my head, trying to get my bearings.
I’m lying on my back. My head throbs, and as I try to turn onto my side, I realize I can’t bend my knees without hitting them on a firm surface. I lift my head in panic and smash my forehead into the same unyielding barrier, my hazy consciousness returning me all at once to brutal reality.
Something rattles whenever I move. My hands are still taped, so I can’t investigate further, but my instinct tells me the clunking items digging into me are bones.
I’m in a coffin.
I take shallow, careful breaths and steady myself. I have to confirm what’s happening here, and if this is what I think it is, I cannot lose my shit.
Clasping my hands together, I raise them fast, punching the wood as hard as possible. There’s a splintering thud, then a flurry of gritty soil that gets in my mouth. I cough and give a single animal cry of terrified rage.
He buried me alive. That sick fuck. He dug up some poor bastard and dumped me in with him, then put us both back underground.
I close my eyes and lie still, trying to think, but it’s impossible. The human brain is not equipped for fear of this magnitude.
Of all the many things in my life that matter to me, nothing and no one comes close. In the face of death, all I can think of is Lilyana. She comes to my mind as she was before I got too close and spoiled her tender beauty. The sweet, kind, artistic soul whose calm presence emanated from the many stolen photos I kept on the piano—the woman I love more than life itself.
I knew something wasn’t right. I felt it from the beginning, but I pushed the feeling down like a fool. I remember how Timur looked at me only hours ago when I told him about my father’s death. When I said he died in a car bomb meant for Sergey Kislev, Timur’s face went white as a sheet, but then he laughed and laughed like he’d lost his damn mind. Why did I ignore the twist in my gut and let him leave?
The oxygen is already getting low in here, and if I don’t do something, I’ll breathe in too much carbon dioxide and be unable to function. I don’t understand what’s happening, but Lilyana is in danger from the man who’s now supposed to be her protector.
So what’s new? I did no better. I was so fixated on winning Lilyana’s heart that I broke the habit of a lifetime and got sloppy with the details. All I wanted was to stay at my wife’s side, and I trusted Timur to do the very diligence that is my fucking job. In getting closer to Lilyana, I put her in more peril than ever.
