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“Initiated?” she repeats cautiously. Suspicion creates wrinkles along her forehead. “What does that mean?”
Mila’s laugh is dry as sand. “He’ll be made to rape, kill, or both.”
Bringing her hands to her lips, Galina moans in shocked despair. She turns away from Mila, searching my eyes for a hint of compassion. “If we get him away from his father before that?—”
“If,” I say the words like I’m cursing. “We can’t risk our lives on a bunch of ifs.”
Her face falls. Her hands go next, hanging in fists at her hips. “So you’re willing to risk it all to kill a ten-year-old.”
“I’m risking it all to save your mother and end this war!” I yell it out. I need her to hear. Everyone has to hear. I need to hear it. “Everything I do is for you and for the good of the Bratva!” Galina cranes her neck to look up at me as I loom over her. She’s expressionless. It’s like I’m talking to the frozen lake outside. “Ruslan is a Bratva prince. If he lives, he’ll be what Yevgeniy’s men rally around. He might not want it, but he will be forced into it just by his very existence. Killing him isn’t something I relish, but it’s going to happen sooner or later. Will it make you feel better when he’s a full-grown man like Yevgeniy’s last son?”
There are pleased murmurs from my men. It sends a thrill up my spine to know they’re rallying around me. My speech reached them.
That’s what I wanted. That’s the goal. I need to be the pakhan they deserve.
My blood pumps quicker. I stare at Galina, waiting expectantly for her to show me a hint that finally, she understands as they do. I’m doing the right thing.
“You sound like him,” she seethes.
“Who?”
“Yevgeniy.”
All of my joy melts away. “Galina?—”
Her hair flips around her shoulders like a cape as she spins. She’s taken to wearing it down recently, I think because she knows I like it. And I do like it. But seeing it sway as she vanishes out the door is torture. The pit in my guts grows so large I think I’ll turn inside out.
She hates what I’m doing. Nothing I said can convince her this is how it has to be. I was sure if I used the right words, she’d come around. It was a foolish mistake to forget that, whatever she’s been through, Galina doesn’t belong in my world. She never will.
“My pakhan,” Kostya says gingerly.
Unclenching my fingers, the knuckles cracking, I look over the room. All eyes are on me. The air of doubt has drifted away. All that remains is their quiet obedience … their eagerness for my next command.
My voice is steady. “We’re proceeding with the plan.”
33
GALINA
Killing him isn’t something I relish, but it’s going to happen sooner or later.
That sentence chases me through the cabin. It follows me down the hall, past the ice-fogged windows, around the carefully crafted wooden benches built into the walls. It’s on my heels like a dog on the hunt all the way to the bedroom I’ve been sharing with Arsen.
I stare around at the space for half a second before retreating.
No, I can’t be in there.
I can’t be anywhere that feels like him.
The cabin is large enough that ducking into a guest bedroom isn’t hard. I have my pick from the bunch. They’re all similar in design. All I care about is the white bed in the middle of the room.
Killing him isn’t something I relish, but it’s going to happen sooner or later.
How can he say that? My head is being pulled apart by pressure. I’m trying not to cry from frustration and disappointment. From the pocket of my sweater dress, I tug out my phone. I’m halfway to dialing when I remember the obvious. Plucking the prayer beads off my wrist, I stuff them under the pillow. Arsen shouldn’t be able to spy on me now.
“Audrey,” I say into the phone. My voice is tight and high, even though I’m trying to whisper. I suck in air, shaking, working to calm myself down. “I need to talk.”
“Hey, yeah, of course!” she replies quickly. “I’m here. Tell me what’s going on. Are you crying?”
