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Liam looks over. “Sean,” he says. Rustik’s barely out of sight. “What’s going on?”
“Just got a call.” This guy Sean looks pale. His eyes dart to Rustik as the Russian boss disappears around a corner. “It’s about Corgan.”
I look between them, confused. “Who’s Corgan?”
“Riker Corgan,” Liam says, his face hard.
That name’s extremely familiar. “My father’s biggest rival?”
“Former rival,” Liam amends. “He sold his company to me yesterday.”
“Except Orin called,” Sean says. “He found a box at the house.” He glances again to where Rustik disappeared. “It had Corgan’s head in it.”
I take a step back. My mouth opens in shock. Horror pulses into my guts, picturing poor Orin opening a package only to find a severed human head inside.
Liam’s expression tightens as he takes in the news. “Now we know why Rustik seemed so confident.”
This can’t be happening. I’ve met Riker Corgan a few times. Despite being my father’s biggest competition, he was always cordial, even charming. I liked him. And now he’s dead.
Decapitated. His head chopped off by Rustik Aslan. Mutilated by a Bratva monster.
“How are you acting so casual about this?” I ask, staring at Liam. I feel like I might throw up.
“This is his move,” Liam says, looking thoughtful, as if we weren’t discussing the brutal murder of a human being. “Rustik’s opening salvo. He’s going to scare anyone that comes near me. The message is obvious: sell your company to the Crowley family and get your head chopped off.”
“It’s not a bad move,” Sean admits.
I back away from the men. I feel dizzy, lightheaded. “Riker’s been murdered,” I say through my teeth. “Shouldn’t we… I mean, the cops…” I hold up my hands as if I could pull threads from the air to make this all make sense.
Liam comes toward me. “This is only the beginning, my princess,” he says, keeping his voice calm and low. I try to move away, but he catches my wrist then holds my arm tightly, pulling me close. I look around, but none of the people out for their midday stroll seem to notice my distress. “Pull yourself together, wife. There’s going to be more violence very soon. Look at it this way—now you can go for a run.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m pragmatic.” He steers me back the way we came with Sean ghosting behind us. “You want revenge, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I say grudgingly. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Good. Now things can get interesting.” He holds me tighter. “You did well back there. Aside from the panic you’re feeling now, which is understandable, you did very well. You should be proud.”
I want to close my eyes. I want to scream.
Instead, my husband steers me away from the meeting we just had with a murderer, and I’m fairly sure there’s more death coming.
Chapter 18
Alisa
I stare at the ceiling and try to remember the last time I spoke with Riker Corgan.
It was probably at some industry thing, a party or a charity auction or something like that. But I can’t seem to recall exactly when.
Which is terrible. The man’s dead—at least partially because of me—and I can’t even recall what we last spoke about.
Probably some inconsequential nothing.
He was a business rival, but he was still a man. Now he’s gone, murdered horrifically for selling to my husband.
Sleep won’t come. It’s the middle of the night, a little past ten. My purple bed doesn’t seem funny anymore now that the reality of my situation’s become clear. Dead bodies, headless corpses, murdered businessmen. Corgan wasn’t exactly a saint, but he also didn’t deserve to get mutilated.
“You can’t sleep.” Liam’s voice drifts in from his side of the bed.
I try not to look at him. I swear, he must hear my heart racing. “It was a stressful day.”
“You’re not used to this. I understand.”
“You do? Doesn’t this bother you at all?”
“Not exactly, no.” He’s breathing steadily and slowly. “It’s what I do.”
“How can you live this way?” I turn to look at him. He’s staring back at me, his eyes glinting in the half-light. “With all this violence?”
“I was born in this world.” His voice is soft. Smooth. Velvety. “My family taught me from a young age that life is both precious and cheap, and we have enough money to pay for whatever we want. Murder, arson, whatever you can imagine, we can make it happen. I knew Corgan was in danger when he accepted my offer, but I hoped he’d get away before Rustik made a move.”
“Did he understand how bad it could get?”
“I assume so.” He shifts slightly, looking at me. “Why do you care so much about that man? He’s nothing to you.”
I let out a sharp, surprised laugh. “It’s not that I care about him, it’s more that… someone I know got their head cut off, and I’m partially responsible.”
“More people are going to die. You knew that coming into this. And you are not responsible.”
