Page 89 of Anton

My mother’s face appears in front of me, as though warning me not to go through with it, but I push her away.

“How do you want it done?” The words taste like metal.

“Painlessly.” He crosses his arms. “It’s not her fault her father didn’t see reason. But after it’s done, don’t dispose of her. Carve her up and dump her remains at their door. Starting with her head. I want Harlan to understand he couldn’t protect what mattered most.”

My vision blurs around the edges.

I can’t do it. I would kill anyone else in that family without a second thought. But not her.

The certainty of it pummels through me, a feeling I don’t recognize because I have never disobeyed an order from my brother. Not once.

Not until Thora Whitlock bulldozed through the carefully ordered world I’ve always lived in.

“Consider it handled.” I lie so easily, even I almost buy it.

He studies me a little too long, his fingers tapping once against his desk. “No mistakes, Anton.”

“There won’t be.”

A small smirk crawls across his face. “I can always trust you to get the job done. Just like Father did.”

I nod, even as everything in me is already working the problem, trying to figure out how the hell I can keep her safe before Konstantin realizes I can’t hurt her. Because once he does, he’ll send someone else. And if he makes me choose, he will not like what happens next.

I turn toward the door, ready to leave, when his voice stops me.

“Anton.”

I pause before opening it, my back still to him.

“If there is anything I should know, tell me now.”

My grip tightens. There are a hundred things he should know. That I have touched her. That I want to do it again until my very last breath. That I have held her in my arms and thought, for the first time in my life, that there might be something left in me that our father didn’t manage to kill.

I turn my head enough to look at him over my shoulder. “There’s nothing.”

“Ladno.” Fine. He nods. “Let me know when it’s done.”

I leave before he can read anything on my face. The second I’m outside, the need to see her takes over. My bike roars to life, and I tear down the driveway, already knowing where I’m going.

To her.

By the time I pull up outside her place, I already know she isn’t there. I’ve tried calling and texting her since I saw her at the Whitlock meeting, but she hasn’t responded once and hasn’t even been back to her house since then.

Why? What happened? Is she doing this on purpose because I ignored her first?

Does she actually think disappearing will keep me away from her?

She should thank me instead. I’m not good enough for her.

My fingers cinch around the handlebars as I sit in front of the house, staring at the dark windows. She’s probably at the farm, exactly where she should be now that Konstantin has put a target on her head. She’s safer there than she would ever be here.

Maybe I can ride up there and see her. Talk to her.

The thought is already settling when I pull out my phone and open her name, staring at the last text I sent.

Anton

Call me. We need to talk.