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Everyone is in position. Mikhail texted me a few minutes ago to confirm that Belyaev was found at his home address. My brother apparently caught him with his pants down—literally on the toilet—which made for an easy capture.
We’re on our way to The Pit. ETA 20 minutes.
Good luck. Levitsky’s going to call me any second now.
Keep him talking. Agree to whatever he wants. If this works, he’ll be dead by sunrise.
I clench and unclench my fists. My palms are sweaty. The minutes ticking by are somehow the most excruciating. The burner phone Natalya stole from one of Levitsky’s men sits on the coffee table in front of me. I’ve checked it more than once to make sure the battery’s charged and the ringer is on. I’d really hate to miss this call.
My heart pounds. What’s taking him so long? It’s been more than twenty-four hours already. What if he’s gone back on his word? This is probably just his way of letting me sit and stew. I can only pray that Simon is alright. Dahlia may be a double agent, but I don’t think she’d let any harm come to the boy.
God. I’m about to lose my mind.
The phone rings. I jump out of my seat. “Hello?”
“Mr. Antonov,” Levitsky greets, overly friendly and sweet. The fucker’s toying with me. “Have you come to a decision? I sincerely hope so, otherwise…”
“I want to hear my son,” I snap. “Before we talk business, I need to know he’s okay.”
“Is this really necessary?”
“It’s the only request I’ll make of you. Let me hear my boy.”
Levitsky sighs like I’m the one being a heartless bastard. “Fine. But I’ll have you know the brat doesn’t say much. All he does is cry for his Mama.”
“Put my child on the phone, dammit.”
There’s some shuffling in the background. Footsteps, movement. Until I hear the soft coos of Simon’s sweet little voice.
“Talk to your father,” Levitsky grumbles. “What am I even saying? You don’t know how to talk.”
“Simon?” I shout over the receiver. “Simon, it’s Dada.”
“Dada!” he squeals.
My heart seizes. Oh, thankGod. I obviously have no other evidence, but it sounds like Simon’s alright. He isn’t crying, which I take as a good sign.
“Everything’s going to be okay, little man. I’m going to bring you home soon, okay?”
Simon giggles, the sound resonating inside my ear. There’s a bit of shuffling again, my boy’s voice drowning out in the distance. Levitsky’s already moved on.
“How long was Dahlia working for you?” I ask, speaking slowly to bide my time. “How did you turn her against me?”
“You’re not very bright, Mr. Antonov. I never turned her against you. You and your filthy family did that all by yourselves.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard all about your violent coup against your uncle, Konstantin. He had quite the army of loyal men, all of whom were willing to die in the line of fire in order to protect him.”
“And?”
“You and your brother built upon an empire loyal to its previous king. You think those men who work for you all serve you out of a sense of honor? Think again. I have it on good authority you killed anyone who stood in your way.”
“We were protecting ourselves,” I seethe. “We gave everyone a chance to swear their loyalty to us. Those who didn’t were in our way. Theychosetheir fates when they decided to protect Konstantin.”
“Including Dahlia’s husband, it would seem.”
This is new information. “But she’s served the Antonovs for years.”
