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“Please, Sascha, just put down the knife. We can work this out. No one has to die tonight. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Sascha shakes his head, his one still-functioning eye glinting with betrayal. “Spoken like a man who’s sold his soul to the devil. What spell does she have you under, brother? Maybe I should just kill her now and break the hold she’s got on you.”
“No. Please, just give me a minute to think, to talk this out. I’ve barely had the chance to process that you’re even alive. I just need time, and we can figure it out.”
Alina’s eyes plead with me, her desperation apparent, and it kills me to see her life on the line because of me. I’m the reason she got dragged into this. And now, with so much at stake, she doesn’t even get a say because Sascha’s silenced her with a gag.
“I can’t do that, Mishka. I can’t give you time. You need to decide now because there’s no way in hell Sergio’s daughter is going to let me live once she goes running back to Daddy.”
“You’re wrong,” I insist, rushing to convince him. “We can trust Alina. I swear. You have to believe me. Believe in me like you used to. Because your instincts have been right on the money. I did infiltrate the Sakharov Bratva to avenge you. I fully intended to kill Sergio as soon as I got the chance. But Alina isn’t the enemy here. She’s nothing like her father. She’s completely innocent, and she has a good heart.”
Sascha studies me, his doubt heavy in the silence.
“I fell in love with her, Sasch,” I murmur, keeping my voice low and calm to try and ease him into the idea of letting her go. “I love her, and she loves me too. Which is why she would never do anything to hurt you. Because she knows how much I care for you. Even when I tried to kill her father, she kept my secret. She would do the same for you.”
Dear God, I hope so. Or at least I hope Sascha believes me enough to lower his knife.
He hasn’t cut her again, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the red trickle that’s run down her throat to stain the collar of my shirt she’s wearing. And I’m terrified the next time, he might cut deeper. He might nick an artery.
For a moment, Sascha seems to consider my words. His head tips in that all-too-familiar thoughtful gesture that he does. Then he visibly strengthens his resolve, squaring his shoulders as he makes up his mind. “You have until the count of five to decide,” he states evenly.
“Please, Sascha. Don’t,” I plead, my pulse fluttering anxiously.
“One.”
I swallow hard, licking my dry lips as I glance at the blade pressed precariously against Alina’s throat.
“Two.”
“Sascha…” Agony grips my heart as I wrap my fingers around the handle of my gun. I wonder if I’m actually strong enough to pull the trigger.
“Three.”
“Please, let’s just talk about this,” I rasp, my thumb flicking off the safety.
“Four.”
37
ALINA
The tears come hard and fast again as I watch the torture in Mishka’s eyes. He tried. He made a valiant attempt to talk Sascha down, but his brother is mad with self-righteous retribution. He’s not going to forgive Mishka. He’ll never forgive me for the family I have no say in.
Hostility rolls off him in waves, and my heart feels like it’s trying to escape my chest, it’s hammering against my ribs so forcefully.
I’m going to die. My baby is going to die. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
I try, screaming around my gag, pleading for my life. For the life of our unborn child. But I can’t even make out the words I’m trying to say. And Sascha has no desire to hear me.
Each time Sascha counts, I feel death drawing closer.
It’s agony to know I was so close to having it all. For a few brief hours, I truly thought I could get a happy ending. Now, I get no life at all.
Sobbing, I jerk futilely against my restraints. But nothing’s going to stop what’s coming.
“Five.”
And as Sascha reaches the final number, I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing as I prepare to feel the sharp sting of his knife.
