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“I shot him, Nick.”
“People survive gunshot wounds all the time.”
It’s a stretch, and we both know it. Based on how quickly he started bleeding out, she hit an artery. He could have been hit in a hospital, and I’m not sure he’d make it. But Dmitriy’s death is a burden I don’t want Lyla to carry. He kidnapped her. Intended to kill her. There are deaths to mourn, and his isn’t one of them.
I tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “You didn’t kill him. I did. It’s on me, Lyla. Let it be on me, okay?”
My eyes bore into hers, trying to force her to hear me. To accept what I’m saying.
Finally, she nods.
I release her, pulling my phone out of my pocket. Something Dmitriy should have taken from me. Another rookie error on his part.
That was always part of the problem between us though. He never wanted to treat me as a worthy opponent. He thought being a similar age and having similar backgrounds made us the same. That because I was thePakhan, he could be. And in my experience, the people who think they’ll make the best leaders are often the worst.
Roman picks up on the first ring. “Thank fuck you’re alive.”
“Leo?”
“He’s safe. Talking with Grigoriy right now about the layout of the building in case your ten minutes ran out.”
I exhale. “Good. I need a crew up here to take care of Dmitriy.”
“Done.”
“Send Viktor up too.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Leo is safe,” I tell Lyla as soon as I’ve hung up.
She closes her eyes and exhales shakily. I place a hand on her lower back, so lightly that I’m barely brushing the fabric of her jacket, and guide her out of the apartment’s living room into the hallway.
It’s dim, chilly, and narrow, but there’s no dead body in sight. My eyes flicker to the door at the opposite end of the hall, recalling the horrors it hides.
Lyla is quiet beside me, wrapping her arms around her midsection and staring blankly at the white plaster wall. Part of me wishes she’d cling to me or seek out some comfort. But I know she’s used to being independent. And this is all my fault, so I can hardly blame her for not running into my arms romantic movie–style.
Viktor and a crew of five men appear a few minutes later. They all give me respectful nods, and I’m surprised when Lyla receives one as well. It’s rare for anyone outside the family to receive that sort of acknowledgment. I’m not sure if Lyla notices the gesture. She still looks dazed.
“Take her down to Leo,” I tell Viktor. “And get them back to the estate.”
Viktor nods, serious. Dmitriy was the brains and force behind the revolt, but he never worked alone. It would be foolish to think killing him is the equivalent of safety. I still have plenty of enemies.
“Viktor will take you downstairs to Leo,” I tell Lyla.
Her gaze jerks from the wall to me. Her mouth opens, but then she looks at Viktor and the other men and closes it. “Okay,” she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
I watch them walk down the hall, then turn to the rest of my men. “Put Dmitriy in the bathroom to be found. Everything else gets wiped. No trace left behind.”
Most of the localpolitsiyaare in my back pocket. But there are always a few who decide to be heroes, who think that the whole system isn’t rotted and fighting corruption isn’t a futile task. Who would love to see me behind bars.
We head back into the apartment. I can already smell the rot of death, the aroma of the undead permeating the still air. It’s probably in my imagination, but my stomach curdles anyway.
“What about him?” one of my men asks, nodding toward the corner.
Up until now, I’d completely forgotten about the burly, bearded man who helped Dmitriy with the kidnapping.
“He disappears.”
