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“You’ll have to forgive me then,” Edvard says calmly. “I’m normally a very patient man, but my plans hinge on your success. I don’t feel like waiting any longer. It’s as the old saying goes: if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”
Upstairs, the sound of Simon’s muffled cries can be heard. I stare at Edvard in terror. He wouldn’t hurt the baby, would he?
Edvard takes a step forward. Fuck, maybe he would.
“Don’t,” I gasp desperately, voice breaking. “Don’t hurt him. Please, I’m begging you.”
“What’s gotten into you, Natalya?” Edvard asks with a disappointed click of his tongue. “You assured me you wanted this man dead.”
My throat burns painfully, tears stinging my eyes. “I did. But the rest of them… They’re innocent.”
“We both know there’s no such thing as innocent.”
“Leave the boy out of this. I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you hurt him.”
The look Edvard gives fills me with dread. It seeps past my skin, my muscles, and works its way all the way down to marrow. “You’ve forgotten whose side you’re on, Natalya.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I insist, hot tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Dimitri killed your father.”
I shake my head, bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. “I don’t… I don’t think he did.”
“You know in your heart it’s true.”
“I know Dimitri,” I rasp. “Iknowhim. He would never—”
“Your father owed a debt and couldn’t pay up, so the Antonovs had him shot like a dog. Have you really allowed yourself to become blindsided?” Edvard huffs. “And after I went through all the trouble of gathering the evidence.”
Anger boils in the pit of my stomach. No… This is all wrong. The man Edvard’s describing and the one I’ve come to care for… I don’t think they’re the same man. I was a broken person when Edvard first found me, confused and easily swayed. I took Edvard at his word, but I never stopped to question if anything he showed me was even true.
Witness reports, traffic cam images… They can all be falsified. I was mourning for so long and drowning in my despair. I willingly latched onto Edvard’s explanation of events. Ineededto cling to his word out of fear of drowning. Now I see I was just a pawn. I don’t know what Edvard’s scheming, but Idoknow he was trying to use me as a part of his twisted game.
I don’t want to play anymore.
“I just need more time,” I lie. “He trusts me. Hebelievesme. I can get him alone and kill him then—”
“No,” Edvard says, cutting me off.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifts his gun and points it at me. A part of me wants to plead for my life. Cry. Try anything to keep him from pulling the trigger. In the end, though, I stare down the barrel and accept my fate. I won’t give this man the satisfaction.
“Goodbye, Natalya.”
He squeezes the trigger.
Everything goes black.
Chapter 22
Dimitri
“Edvard Levitsky,” Igor explains to the room, “the last known survivor of the Levitsky Bratva. He went into hiding shortly after the collapse of his family’s power. Many presumed him dead.”
“That’s it?” I grumble. “No pictures? No last known locations? You’re telling me all we have to work with is a name?”
Beside me, Mikhail crosses his arms. “Patience, brother.”
I grit my teeth. It’s been nothing but bad news. How can I possibly have patience? Levitsky has apparently kept himself busy since last we gathered, attacking businesses and properties all over Moscow. He isn’t just attacking the Antonovs, but everyone else, too. The man appears to be on a mission: seek, destroy, and reclaim.
