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A sick feeling curdles in my stomach at the look on his face. “No,” I say quietly. “I don’t.”
“I carved them into pieces while the others watched and thanked God that they chose the right side.” Alexei slides his pistol back into his hand, wrapping his fingers around the butt of it. “You can take a lot of pieces off of a man before he dies. Some pass out sooner than others, but it’s all a part of the fun. Some of your men who switched sides were placing bets, by the end of it, on who would last the longest.”
He frowns then, considering. “Of course, I lost Mikhail. It was a disappointment; I think he would have lasted the longest. He was very loyal to you. Loyal enough to try to get all of your staff out, although he failed.”
“What did you do to them?” My teeth ache with how tightly I have them clenched in an effort not to lose control. Not to twist loose and attack him, an action that would have disastrous results for my family.
Alexei shrugs. “The prettiest, youngest women I took to sell. The men I shot, the older and uglier women I gave to my men, to dispose of when they were finished. Some men will fuck anything if they can get it to lay down for them.” He smirks. “Mikhail got away with a few. But not to worry, I have men looking for him as we speak. I would say that I’ll give you the privilege of watching while I see how many pieces I can remove before he loses consciousness. But you’ll be dead.”
“No!”
A cry comes from the left side of the room, and my heart sinks as I see Olga step forward, her wrinkled face creased as she looks pleadingly at Alexei. “Viktor is a good man,” she says calmly, holding out her hands. “I know you, son,” she says quietly. “I’ve cooked you dinner, served you at Viktor’s table. This isn’t you.”
“Shut up, hag,” Alexei snaps. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step back and shut your wrinkled mouth. I can fetch a price for you, with your skills at keeping house. But if you don’t leave me to my business–”
“Olga, please–” I start to say, but she’s still talking, her chin held high as her watery blue eyes fix on Alexei.
“It’s a shame you don’t have respect for your elders,” Olga murmurs. “But whatever you have planned for me, spare Viktor and his family. He’s been good to me and to the others in his household.”
“I’ll warn you once more–” Alexei’s eyes narrow, his mouth thinning. “I don’t like to lose money. But you’re pissing me off, you old bitch. You should know your place.”
But to my horror, Olga doesn’t back down. Instead, she sinks to her knees, hands still outstretched. I hear a gasp from my right, likely Caterina, but I don’t look away. I can’t because I know what comes next. And it’s my fault.
All of it, my fault.
“ I’m begging you,” Olga says as she settles onto her knees clumsily with the weight of age, more clearly now, though her old voice wavers with a hint of fear. “If there is any mercy in you, don’t—”
The crack of the gunshot is deafening. Yelena starts to shriek as Olga tumbles to the floor, blood dripping from the wound in her forehead, clearly visible. Her piercing screams fill the room, loud enough to be heard even over the temporary deafness from the gunshot, and Alexei turns on his heel, annoyance plain on his face. “Shut that fucking brat up,” he snaps. “I only need one child alive, if she won’t shut the fuck up—”
“No!” It’s Caterina’s turn to scream it. She wrenches herself loose from the man holding her with a ferocity that I’ve never seen, her delicate body jackknifing as she drives an elbow backward into his ribs, stomping on his foot as she gets free, flinging herself onto the floor next to Yelena and Anika. “Shh,” she whispers, gathering Yelena into her arms, physically blocking her from Alexei’s line of fire and anyone else’s. “You’ve got to be quiet, baby, please. I know you’re frightened, I am too, but you’ve got to be quiet now, for your father and I. Shh, shh—”
She keeps crooning to Yelena, stroking her hair, all of her attention focused on the little girl despite how terrified I can see that she is. I know that she’s not past the trauma of her own kidnapping, and I know that this must be bringing it all up again. But I can see in her face that nothing can keep her from protecting my daughters, and my heart swells with a feeling for her that I wish more than anything I’d put into words before this moment.
“The mama bear.” Alexei laughs. “Is this one pregnant, too?” He looks at me, and I know he’s expecting me to answer.
I don’t know which answer is better. Sofia hasn’t been hurt since Luca shouted it, but I have a decent idea of what Alexei is hoping to do with the women here. A pregnant woman is a novelty, but not many men looking to buy want the result. It would lower her price.
It makes me sick to think of Caterina like that, but I have to think of how best to protect her while Alexei has the upper hand. And I realize, with the fresh eyes with which I saw Sasha, that I’ve thought about hundreds of women in exactly that way. It just hadn’t mattered to me because they weren’t my wife or my daughters.
Still, I was responsible. Just as I’m accountable for everything that’s happened to Sasha, Caterina, and Olga. I look at the old woman, her body very still on the carpet, blood leaking from her forehead as Alexei motions for her to be taken away. Her life ended in an instant, because she spoke up for me.
I didn’t deserve it. She was loyal to me, and I didn’t deserve it. I’d treated her well over the years that she’d worked in my household, but what had she turned a blind eye to all that time? How had she justified it, continued to care for my family and me so faithfully?
Only Caterina has stood up to me. Only Caterina has refused to give me her love and devotion unless I saw myself for what I truly was. Even Vera couldn’t put her feelings into words. Only Caterina was strong enough.
And now it’s too late.
“She’s not,” I say quietly.
“Good.” Alexei smiles with satisfaction. “Divide up the rest of the staff,” he tells the men flanking them, glancing in that direction. “Women under the age of twenty-five with decent enough looks separate out for sale. The others keep separate, we may find some buyers for them still. The Italian woman, the blonde one, Viktor’s wife, and that little spitfire—” he nods towards Sasha, “they come along with me, back to the main house. Along with the children.” He smiles at me; his expression is as cruel as anything I’ve ever seen. “Those two girls are very pretty. Imagine the price—”
The noise that comes from my mouth is like nothing I’ve ever heard, an animal sound as I lunge towards him, my control finally broken. Alexei steps back, making atskingsound. “Now, now, Viktor, remember that your behavior matters. The harder you make this on me, the more I’ll take it out on them.”
“Before we go,” he continues. “It’s clear that I can’t leave you alive, Viktor. You’re not willing to retire with grace. And I can’t have any of your compatriots trying to avenge you. So the lot of you will have to die. Since we don’t have time for fun, I'll make it quick. Shoot them.” He steps back, nodding to his men, and they raise their weapons in unison.
A fucking firing squad in my living room. And I’m on the wrong end of it.
I’m not afraid of dying, exactly. A man in my position doesn’t remain there this long without a healthy realization of the fact that he lives on the knife’s edge of death all of the time, if the wrong people get the wrong ideas. A man of my age, looking forty squarely in the eye, also knows that he’s lucky to have made it this far with everything intact and his life still his own. In our world, making it to a ripe old age is a success in and of itself, as impressive as any financial success. It means you’re intelligent, savvy, wise, and respected or feared enough to have escaped the plots, hits, and general ill-will that men who hold power in our world attract.
