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I smile through the tears and slump back down. They’re right—I’m not going anywhere. But with them here, my hands holding each of theirs, I feel like maybe I can see a sliver of light at the end of this dark tunnel.
I lived most of my life as an orphan. I never thought I’d have a real family, a support system. But they’re here. When I need them most, they’re right here at my side.
“I couldn’t do this without you guys,” I say softly.
“Of course you could,” Cyrille says. “Luckily, you don’t have to.”
64
MISHA
Alexei Ivanov walks into his apartment and drops his keys into a glass bowl. He hangs something from a hook, drops something else on the floor, curses under his breath in Russian. It’s business as usual as far as he is concerned.
That’s only because he hasn’t seen me sitting on his sofa yet.
He pads down the short entryway and flips the light switch. The lights are on for a few seconds before he turns and catches sight of me.
For a second, he freezes up. He’s stunned. Speechless. Not computing that his life is about to change forever.
Then his brain catches up, and he jolts back, smacking into the wall. “Wh-who the f-fuck are you?”
I regard him coolly. “I think you know exactly who I am.”
He gives me one lookover and lunges for the front door. But the moment it’s open, he’s forced back inside by Konstantin brandishing a gun.
“Sit down and talk to me, Alexei. Or, if you prefer, you can take your chances with my friend and his gun.” I shrug. “It’s your choice.”
He shuts the door and turns around slowly. Sweat is already beading on his forehead. He keeps glancing towards a cabinet on the side of the room.
“I wouldn’t bother,” I tell him. “I’ve removed the gun you hid in there. The one in your bedroom, too. You should update your hiding spots.”
“What the f-fuck do y-you want from me?” he stutters.
“Do you know who I am?”
He shudders and his chin falls to his chest. “Don Misha Orlov.”
“Smart boy. And how did I manage to find you?”
He hesitates. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know what you want with me, either. I have nothing to do with my brother.”
I click my tongue against my teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Alexei. I’m not inclined to be generous under the best of circumstances, and this is certainly not that.”
He swallows hard. “Listen—”
“Do you know a man named Simon Maher?”
“N-no!” he says, sealing his fate with a single word. “No, I don’t.”
“Funny. Because he knows you.” I pull out the white envelope that was left on my front porch and dangle it in front of him. “In fact, he told me you were the one who hired him to follow my wife and me and take those pictures.”
Alexei stares cross-eyed at the envelope like he might be able to make it disappear if he focuses hard enough. “He… he was lying.”
“No, he wasn’t. I’m good at reading liars. It’s why I know you’re one right now. Also, I highly doubt he’d have the presence of mind to lie with a knife in his kneecap.”
He gawks up at me, as if just now coming to the understanding that I’m two heads taller than he is, and that even if I didn’t have a gun and a spare, that he would stand no chance of seeing tomorrow’s sunrise.
I feel a tiny spindle of pity for this pitiful little kid. Konstantin told me he was only twenty-one, but he looks even younger than that. His facial hair is patchy, and he doesn’t seem to know how to hold his long limbs still.
