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I slowly close my eyes, my grip tightening on her hand before I release it and let it rest on the bed. The thought of losing her brings an ache I thought I’d never feel again after Aunt Annika’s death.
I will make sure Lia’s fate is different from my stepmother’s.
Her career is probably finished for good, though. I spoke to her attending physician and he mentioned that the nature of her fracture is impossible to recover from in the professional sense.
Which brings me to the reason behind heraccident.
I stand up and brush a kiss on Lia’s forehead before I turn for the door. After her suicide attempt, I’d rather not leave her side. However, my next course of action needs to happen, if not for anything else, then for her beloved justice.
I meant it when I said that I don’t believe in justice, but I do believe in an eye for an eye.
Blood for fucking blood.
Besides, the sooner I’m done with this, the faster I can get back here and take care of her.
The moment I step out of her room, Yan, Kolya, and Boris stand erect, their expressions more closed off than usual. Kolya and Boris were with me all day, but Yan hasn’t left Lia’s side.
“Did you see it with your own eyes?” I ask Yan, not that I need a reason to get on with my plan.
“Yes, sir,” he snarls. “That motherfucker did it on purpose.”
I stare at Kolya. “Have you managed to get me footage?”
He nods, then shows me his phone. My three guards and I watch as the scene unfolds in front of our eyes. It’s not that I doubt Yan’s words, but I want to see it for myself—the exact moment when the fucker signed his death certificate.
The shocked expression on Lia’s features guts me. She must’ve known it was going to be the end as she was falling, and that pain, that desperation, makes me clench my fists on either side of me.
“Have you located him?” I ask Kolya with a calm I don’t feel.
“He’s at a club. One of our men, Fedor, is keeping an eye on him.”
“At a fucking club,” Yan snarls. “I’m going to torture the bastard to death.”
I shake my head once. “You stay here, Yan.”
“But, Boss—”
“Stay here and protect her until I get back.”
“Why can’t Boris do it? I want to kill the fucker.”
“Yan. It’s an order.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but Kolya shakes his head at him before he and Boris follow me out.
My knuckles hurt from the amount of clenching I do during the ride to confront Ryan. My guard, Fedor, calls us and says he left the club alone and he’s following him home, and since I’ve had my men watching him, we know the route he’ll take.
Kolya strategizes with him so we can intercept Ryan in the alley he always drives through. Fedor hits his car from behind and we’re already waiting for Ryan in the shadows.
Ryan gets out, cursing and checking his car. He doesn’t sway on his feet, so he must’ve not drunk a lot.
I step out of the vehicle at the same time as Fedor, who nods at me. Boris and Kolya stand on either side of Ryan so that the four of us are surrounding him.
The fucker turns around, his expression ashen as he meets my gaze. I see the exact moment when he knows he’s fucked.
People know when death is coming. Sometimes, they can feel it and hope leaves their greedy eyes. Some fight, some know it’s useless. Others fight even when they know it’s useless.
Like Ryan.
