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I step out of the shadows.
“Viktor.”
He spins around, gun already raised and pointed straight at my chest. His eyes widen in pure shock when he sees me standing there alive.
“Surprised to see me?” I ask coldly. “Yeah… you thought the Irish actually managed to kill me, didn’t you?”
He stares, gun still aimed at me. “You sent that text.”
“I did,” I confirm, taking a slow step forward.
Viktor’s hand trembles slightly. “Andrei… listen—”
“No. You listen.” My voice drops to a deadly whisper. “You were like a brother to me. I trusted you with my life. With my family. And you sold me out to the fucking Irish?”
“I never deserved to be second forever!” he snaps, voice cracking. “I’ve been following you around like a fucking dog for years! I was supposed to run New York. That was the deal when we came here! Then you met that girl four years ago and everything changed. You became obsessed. You decided to stay. You forgot about the plan. You forgot about me.”
“You betrayed me for power?” I ask quietly.
“I deserved to be in charge!” he shouts. “Not playing shadow to you while you played house with some random bitch and her bastard kid!”
That has me seeing red. I move, and Viktor fires. But I’m faster. My bullet slams into his chest before he can adjust. He staggers, roaring in pain, and fires again wildly. I close the distance and fire another shot to his stomach. He drops to the ground, gasping.
I stand over him, gun pointed at his head. For a moment, neither of us moves. The night is quiet except for the sound of his ragged breathing and the distant crash of waves against the pier.
“I don’t get it,” I say, voice low. “If you were working with the Irish the whole time… why did you keep pushing me to attack them?”
He coughs, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. And then it hits me. “Of course. You wanted me to take them down for you. You let me do the dirty work. Wipe them out. And then you take over both territories.”
I let out a humorless breath, shaking my head slightly.
“And if Cillian was lucky enough to take me out…you would have found a way to remove him too. Clean up the last obstacle and sit on the throne.”
Viktor’s lips curl into a weak, bloody smile. He lets out a broken chuckle, blood spilling from his mouth as his body trembles with the effort.
“Looks like…” he rasps, coughing again, “…you’ve got it all figured out.”
I watch him, the man I thought was my brother.
“I wish it didn’t have to come to this.”
Viktor lets out a strained breath, pain etched across his face, blood dripping from his mouth. He meets my eyes, and for a second, the anger fades, replaced by something tired. Resigned.
“Me too,” he rasps. He coughs out more blood as he tries to speak. “You… you better go check on your wife.”
My blood turns to ice. Before I can ask what the fuck he means, his eyes roll back and his body goes limp.
Dead.
I run for my car. Rosie. Anya. I need to get home. Now.
Chapter Thirty
Rosie
I can’t sleep.
No matter how hard I try, my eyes refuse to stay closed and my mind can’t stay still. Andrei has been gone for hours now, and the later it gets, the tighter the knot in my stomach becomes. How can I possibly sleep when my husband is out there fighting a war?
