Page 61 of The Pakhan’s Heir

“That’s more time than we’ll need,” I say. I feel Rikki’s eyes on me. “What?”

“I can do this,” he says. “Job like this is child’s play. I can do him and bring you his head before noon.”

I look over at him. “You saying I shouldn’t be here?”

“I’m saying that you don’t have to be here. You’re a Pakhan. You shouldn’t be risking your neck like this.”

I scoff. “I can handle Slavik.”

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s got a reputation for being slippery and you know it.”

“Then I guess you’d better be sure you’re watching my back. He’s gotten away with too much, Rikki. I’m not missing the chance to get my pound of flesh.”

Rikki nods and faces forward. The discussion is over.

The doors open and we walk out into the hallway, which is less of a hallway and more of a large room with four doors for four luxury apartments. And between them are the elevators. Four on each side for the tenants and all the rich folk in the world and two on the far end that look a little less clean. A sign on the right side of it reads Service Elevator.

Nothing here is unexpected. Kostya’s intel’s led us this far. Once we’re behind Slavik’s front door, we’ll be on our own.

His door sits on the far right corner, twenty-four thirty-nine. We walk over to it and Rikki kneels down to pick the lock. I’m watching the elevator and the other doors, my hand on the gun in my pocket. I take note of the incinerator shoot in the far corner. Handy. We’ll have to dump our jumpsuits once the deed is done and we’ll have to do it quick. That shoot will do when we get to it.

The lock clicks and Rikki nods as he stands and pulls out his gun. I follow suit as he turns the knob.

We walk into the front hall and it’s as quiet as a grave. Rikki takes the lead, stepping softly across the marble floors. We get to the living room and there’s not a single thing out of place. Leather couch, black lacquer coffee table, landscape style paintings on the wall and small sculptures on little displays in the corner, stairs leading up to a second floor…

We need to make sure no one’s here. Or at least, no one we wouldn’t expect. I motion for Rikki to look around the first floor while I take the second. He nods and goes one way while I take the steps two at a time.

The second floor hallway gives way to two or three closed doors. The first one off the stairs is partly open and before I even look in, I know it’s her room. I can’t put my finger on how I know it, but I do. And the moment I open the door, my instincts are confirmed.

Her childhood bedroom is surprisingly Spartan. No posters on the walls, no personal items on the nightstand. The canopy bed has a simple white comforter on it with ordinary-looking pillows. The windows are even plain. Simple blinds to keep out the shine from the windows of the other buildings around this one.

Everything of Nona has been removed from this room, save the faintest of her strawberry scent. It makes me wonder how long Slavik waited before deciding to erase her from his home. Given everything that’s happened so far, he probably did it the day of our wedding.

I hear noise from downstairs and I step back out into the hallway. I’m not even two steps before I hear a crash and the sound of fighting. I book it down the stairs and around the corner to the hallway where all the noise is happening. I’m five steps away when a door opens and Slavik comes stumbling out, his hair mussed, bruises forming on his face. He sees me and for a split second, I think he’s going to run. He doesn’t. His face twists into a scowl and he charges me.

I pull the trigger on my gun, but he’s grabbed my wrist and is pushing it toward the ceiling. The bullet fully clears him and bits of plaster rain down on my head.

We’re both fighting over the gun for a moment, then he knees me in the balls. I double over and he snatches the gun from me. Without a word, he fires, but the gun only clicks. He takes a half second, looking at the jammed gun. That’s all I need.

I barrel forward, hitting him in the stomach with my shoulder and sending him falling back to the floor. Rikki stumbles out of the room, rubbing the back of his head.

“Bastard jumped me,” he says. With a single step, he closes the gap between them and kicks Slavik in the side, then kicks him again even harder. Slavik yells out in pain and blood spills from his mouth.

“Let’s do him and get this over with,” he says, pulling out his gun. Slavik suddenly kicks him in the shin. Rikki stumbles back into the wall and Slavik is up and scrambling to his feet.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter as I go after him.

He runs down the hall and darts down another. We round the corner after him…

And he’s gone. There’s nothing in this hallway except a wall. It takes me half a second to realize what’s happened. “Fucking…” I run up to the wall and pound my fist into it. A hollow sound reverberates back at me.

“It’s a false wall,” I say, stepping back. I look around and notice a camera in the high corner of the wall. Motherfucker’s watching us.

Rikki pushes me behind him and raises his gun, firing five shots into it. Sparks fly off it as the paint flakes, leaving only dents.

“It’s a panic room,” he says. “Slippery fucker.”

“There’s no way in here?”