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He pauses, his tone suddenly gentle. “You’re a good person, my dear. You have a good heart. But you can’t let this shake your resolve.”
I sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling.
“Remember what he took from you, Natalya,” Edvard says in my ear. “Your sweet father, my dear old friend. Viktor was a good man, gunned down on his way home from work because he made the mistake of owing the Antonov Bratva.”
“Stop it,” I mutter. My chest is about to cave in.
“Viktor was so proud when he learned you’d been accepted into medical school. He told the whole world, wanted to do everything to make sure his darling daughter could focus on her studies and not worry about the bills.”
“Stop it,” I hiss, my volume rising.
“But the banks wouldn’t approve him for the loan. His credit cards were already maxed. The only people crazy enough to give him the money were the loan sharks working under the Antonov name. And what happened when it came time to pay up?” Edvard clicks his tongue. “He couldn’t, the poor man. He asked for more time, but I don’t think I’ve ever known gangsters as bloodthirsty as the Antonovs to be so forgiving.”
“I SAID STOP IT!”
Tears stream down my cheeks, the burn in my lungs unbearable. Edvard doesn’t have to remind me. I beat myself up about it every waking moment. At the end of the day, I blame myself for what happened to my father. Had I known he’d go to such extremes, I would have found another way to put myself through school. Why he thought it was a good idea to turn to the Bratva for money is still beyond me, and now I’ll never get the chance to ask. It’smyfault my father is dead.
That’s why I have to see this through. Killing Dimitri is the only way I’ll find closure.
“Think about how good it will feel,” Edvard goes on, his words clawing their way through my brain. “The Antonov Bratva’s main enforcer, its right-hand man, will be gone for good. It’ll cripple them, Natalya. That’s when I’ll come in and destroy them, when they’re at their weakest. Nobody will ever have to suffer at their hands again. All you have to do is close your heart to it and get the job done.”
I drag a hand over my face. “I don’t know if I can. I screwed up my second chance.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something, my dear. I know you won’t let your father down. It’s as they say: third time’s the charm.”
The call ends. I’m left staring at the ugly red-brown carpet of my hotel room, rage quietly consuming me from the inside out. Edvard is right. My father deserved better than being put down in the streets like a dog. I think I’d be alright with Dimitri’s demise as long as I could ensure his son wasn’t a witness to it. Probably too young to remember anything, anyway. I chew on the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood.
I’m sure you’ll think of something.
I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that planning Dimitri’s murder is more of a marathon than it is a sprint. If I’m going to do this, I need to dig my heels in and prepare for the long haul. I can’t do blood or violence. I won’t allow his child to see him suffer.
What I really need is to get close.Reallyclose. Get him alone somewhere quiet and far away. Yes, that’s how it’ll have to go down. And by the time anyone’s realized who’s to blame, I’ll be long gone.
Slowly, I dial the number Edvard provided me. The tone rings four times before someone answers. “The Antonov Residence, Dahlia speaking.”
I force a smile. It supposedly helps to sound naturally chipper. “Hello, Dahlia. It’s me, Natalya?”
“Ah, Natalya! How good of you to call. Mr. Antonov and I were just talking about you.”
I ignore the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yes. All good things, I assure you. Mr. Antonov was just telling me how appreciative he was for your assistance with his father today. He was very impressed. He mentioned wanting to thank you in person, but you left before he could.”
“I figured I should probably get out of his hair,” I say with a light laugh. “Is Mr. Antonov Senior doing alright?”
“Much better now, all thanks to you.”
For some reason, I’m genuinely relieved to hear it. “I know I’m calling rather soon, but I was wondering if you had any updates about the maid position. I’m probably counting my chickens before they hatch but—”
“Oh, I’m afraid Mr. Antonov no longer requires an additional maid.”
My heart sinks. Shoot. What did I expect after that disaster of an interview? “Oh. Oh, that’s too bad.”
“He’d like to offer you a different position, instead.”
I hold my breath. “R-really?”
“Are you interested in a live-in caretaker and nanny position? It’s come to Mr. Antonov’s attention that he needs some additional assistance where his family is concerned. He says it pays trip—”
