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There had to be a way to regain the upper hand. He was resourceful and strong—and far younger than the man before him, whose posture was rigid with age, and whose steps betrayed physical weakness. If he could only get free…
“So, Kostya.” Popov leaned forward, almost nose to nose with him. His breath smelled of peat and tobacco. “Tell me. Will you betray your brothers and save yourself—and Maya—or will you choose death? Don’t bother trying to trick me. Either you’ll tell me what I want to know, or you’ll die. There are no other options.”
“Is that so?” Kostya closed his eyes and let peace sweep through him. This was his last chance. If he failed, he would die, and Maya’s fate would be out of his hands. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. “Then I have no choice. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For—”
Before Popov could finish, Kostya flung his head forward and sent it crashing into the other man’s face with a resounding crack of bone. He used the forward momentum to rock the chair up until it was upended, and from there he managed to plant his feet on the floor before it fell. Popov staggered backward with a cry of anguish, and Kostya went after him relentlessly. He was zip-tied to the chair, but his legs had been left unrestrained, and that granted him a small amount of mobility he intended to use to his advantage.
If Kostya didn’t best him now, he already knew that Maya was as good as dead. Leaving the family, living independently, and consorting with the enemy…these were not forgivable sins. Maya had tested her father’s limits. It was up to Kostya to keep her safe.
Channeling his rage and fear into vicious energy, he swung around and crashed the legs of the chair bound to his body into Popov. The man stumbled again, cursing in pain, and Kostya saw his chance. He’d gotten Popov off-balance. If he could knock him down and bang his head against the cement floor…
Kostya went for it. With all his might, he lunged—the impact caught the other man off guard and they toppled to the ground, Popov’s body cushioning Kostya’s fall. There was a sicklythunkof bone as the older man’s head knocked a hard surface, and then, quiet. Kostya laid on top of him and listened to their surroundings, waiting for rushing footsteps of the Syodnik’s men to hurry in their direction.
There was no sound. No one came. Popov, silent, lay still beneath him.
Against all odds, Kostya had succeeded. All he needed to do now was figure out a way to release himself, and then get in contact with Maya and allow her to deal with the situation.
He’d kept his word—her father had been left alive.
Whether he remained that way would be left to Maya’s discretion.
CHAPTER21
Maya
When the phone call came and Maya heard Kostya’s voice again, she wept. As a Popov, she understood fear—she knew what it was like to have to leave a house in the middle of the night on the suspicion of danger, or to be thrust into a situation where it was likely she wouldn’t wake up to see the dawn of a new day. But she’d never felt fear like she had when she’d been on the phone with her father while the death of a man she loved was held above her head like the blade of a guillotine. Knowing that Kostya was not only alive, but well, freed her from the executioner’s block.
Everything was going to be okay.
“Where are you right now?” Maya demanded, brushing the tears from her eyes. She did her best to bring herself under control, but another sob rattled loose from her chest despite her best efforts. “How can I help?”
Four hours had passed since Elena had said help was on the way. Three hours remained until the Sokolovs would arrive en force in London. For the first time in years, Maya couldn’t wait to be reunited with a member of her family…and, for the first time ever, she was eager to meet with the enemy. The Sokolovs had been kind to Elena, and Maya knew that they would be kind to her, as well.
“I’ve tied your father up in the warehouse he was keeping me in. If I had to guess, it’s the same place I drove him to—the empty building you were going to use as your new shelter.” Kostya sounded winded, but otherwise in good spirits. “As far as I can tell, there are sentries outside the building. You shouldn’t come here.”
“I won’t. Not if it’s unsafe. But your family is on the way. Can you hold out for another three hours? Once they arrive, I’m sure they can take care of it.”
“Three hours?” Kostya barked a laugh. “Yeah. Three hours is fine. I’ve got this. Until they arrive, stay safe, and I’ll see you once the area is clear.”
“Be careful,” Maya said. A fresh tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. “You know what my father is capable of.”
“I do.” She heard Kostya’s smirk in his voice. “But I also know whatI’mcapable of, and I promise, there won’t be any problems.”
* * *
Three hours crawled by. Maya spent the time mentally preparing herself for what was about to happen and obsessively checking her phone. When Elena called, she was out the door in a matter of seconds. She arrived at the warehouse just in time to see Elena stroll through the front door with a flip of her long blonde hair.
There was no sign of combat, no bloodshed, and none of the eerie silence that so often came in the wake of great violence. Seagulls squawked in the distance. Not more than a block or two away, pedestrians passed by casually. There were no flashing lights and no sirens.
If the Sokolovs had done away with the threat, as she assumed was the case by Elena’s casual entrance into the building, then they’d done so quietly and efficiently—the true mark of a successful crime family.
Maya checked over her shoulder as she made her way to the front door, nervous about being spotted or targeted by a remaining sentry. Yet, she passed through the door without incident and almost bumped headfirst into Elena, who stood just inside the door.
“Elena!” Maya gasped as she stumbled a few paces back.
Elena turned, the click of her heels echoing through the building. “Oh my God, Maya! Look at you! You look so good in person! And your hair!”
