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Blood slams into my temples. It pushes my eyes forward, so I swear they’re going to bulge from my skull and roll across my carpet. My forearm veins, swollen with adrenaline, slither under my skin.
Nothing is going my way anymore.
“You know why I’m calling, Yevgeniy,” I grate.
His chortle is rotten as old fruit. “I’m assuming you saw my latest work.”
“What was the point of burning the studio down? What did it accomplish?”
“It got you to contact me.”
I go rigid with disgust. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
Yevgeniy exhales lightly—he’s enjoying this. “Tell me where she is.”
“It’s because of who she is, isn’t it?”
“If you know that much, then do the right thing.” Some of the amusement flees from his voice. “Give my daughter back to me.”
Hearing him confirm the truth of Galina’s claim makes me realize something else. He doesn’t realize he’s tipped his hand. Yevgeniy doesn’t know Galina isn’t with me anymore. It’s best I keep it from him as long as possible. “I’ll never hand her over to you.”
“If you don’t want me to continue to wreak chaos on this city, you’ll give her to me on a silver fucking platter.”
“And let you hurt her?”
“She’s my daughter, you fucking animal. That makes her your enemy, not mine. Put her on the call; let me talk to her.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Why? She must be awake. Poor thing is probably panicking about her studio.”
The way he talks about her sends me to the brink of rage. “You’re the one who burned it down!”
“Details,” he sighs. “Let me talk to my daughter. Now.”
My fist punches the wall. The shock wave travels up my elbow, leaving it numb. “I’ll never allow you near her!”
“Why so defensive?” he asks. “That wedding of yours was fake. Don’t play games with me about you and her being together.”
“What we had wasn’t fake!” I snarl.
He pauses for a long moment. “Now that’s an interesting word … had. It’s not that you’re not putting her on the phone because of your bullshit desire to protect her from me. You actually can’t do it, can you?”
My pulse goes wild. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh,” he chuckles. The sound grows until it crests into manic laughter. “My darling daughter isn’t with you at all, is she?”
I keep my voice even. “Of course she is.”
“You’re not as good of a liar as you think you are.” His voice grows lower. “Well, this is very interesting.”
“Stay the fuck away from her.” Everything is falling apart around me. Calling Yevgeniy when I was so frazzled was a terrible decision. “If you dare to touch her in any way, I’ll?—”
“Listen closely, you welp,” Yevgeniy rasps through the phone. “You don’t get to dictate my actions to me. It will never matter how high you rise or what number of men you lure to your side. You’ve stolen everything from me. Everything. You’re not the only one looking for revenge here, Arsen, and I will have mine.”
Before I can respond, the call ends. I stand there, listening to the empty line, hearing my own heavy breathing echoing back. Shifting my weight onto the mattress, I drop the phone to my lap and reach for my prayer beads out of habit, finding only bare skin. I shut my eyes. My breathing comes quicker, more desperately, like there’s not enough oxygen in the room for me … not enough in the whole world.
Without Galina, I have nothing to use against Yevgeniy. My upper hand in this war has been chopped off at the wrist. There’s one thing dangerous men respect in this dark underworld, and that’s power.
