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Marek had managed to get the kids calmed down, though all three of them looked shellshocked when I opened the door. A trickle of blood had dried beneath Marek’s nose and there was a clear imprint of his mother’s hand on his cheek.
“I should have gone with you,” I said, caressing the very edge of his face gently. Even though my rage renewed at the sight, I could at least take satisfaction knowing she’d never hurt him or the children again.
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said, swallowing thickly. It was admirable that he put on a brave face, especially for his siblings, but I could see the exhaustion beneath it. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
On the off chance that Alonzo had figured out where Marek was staying, I drove straight to my penthouse.
“Wait, where are we?” Marek asked, staring up at the soaring glass structure.
“You’re safer here. There’s no way Alonzo or his people can get to you, not with my men around.”
“I thought you didn’t like it here,” Marek whispered as I pulled into the underground parking.
“‘Like’ is not part of the equation tonight.”
Once I parked, we helped the kids with their bags and ushered them into the elevator. I keyed in the code for the penthouse and away we went.
Bri and Ezra clung to either side of Marek, all of them staring at nothing in particular. I didn’t know if he told them about Axel or if their reaction was to watching Crystal attack their brother for the umpteenth time. Once the chaos settled down, I’d have to look into child psychologists in the city. They’d all undoubtedly benefit from some professional help after their hellish upbringing but I’d keep the suggestion relegated to the children—I knew better than to suggest anything like that for Marek personally.
The elevator doors slid open, depositing us into the foyer outside my apartment door. I unlocked it and led them inside.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” I said, turning on lights as we moved through the large, modern space. Unlike the other apartment, the penthouse was noticeably colder. Emptier. Like a movie set more than an actual dwelling. The artwork on the walls was courtesy of Alina, Sergei’s daughter and a prolific painter. The furniture came at the recommendation of an interior designer. Other than my personal affects, one would be hard-pressed to find any semblance of “me” in here. But that was the point. It was all a charade.
“Wow,” Marek said, though he didn’t look particularly impressed—not that I expected him to be after the night he’d had. “You can see half of the city up here. And the lake.”
“It’s strategic, yes.”
“Seriously?” He looked at me flatly. “That’s what you get out of this view?”
“Seriously,” I replied with all sincerity. “The guest rooms are this way.”
Marek herded the kids down the hallway after me. I paused outside one room, gesturing inside. “Do you all want your own space or—”
“Together,” Bri answered, squeezing Ezra’s hand.
“Of course.” My cell phone buzzed quietly inside my jacket. I held up a finger and pulled it out, retreating down the hallway before answering. It was Valery, which meant one of two things—we had a bigger mess on our hands or it was all resolved. “Problems?”
He was breathing hard and cleared his throat before answering. “A couple of Golovorezy were already at the house when we got here.”
“And?”
“We took care of it. But what do you want us to do withtheirbodies?”
I rubbed my forehead, trying to think quickly. Glancing over my shoulder for any sign of Marek, I switched to Russian again in case he overheard. “More of those Neon King assholes from the diner?”
“Yeah. Same hideous fucking purple tattoos on their necks.”
“Fuck…” My gaze drifted skyward as I ran through my various options. “Get them out of there and whatever car they had. Dose that bitch with whatever you can get your hands on and torch the house, as planned. When the house collapses from the fire, it should disguise the break in her neck.”
“Dose her? She’s already dead. Why bother?”
“She’s a known addict. When they find a needle melted into her arm, it’s case closed. A pissed-off dealer cleaning house. No reason for the cops to look further, especially not after Alonzo murdered her son as well.”
“And the other bodies? Want us to dump them?”
“Put them on ice at Romano’s. Park the car. Don’t strip it yet. We might need it in the coming days.”
“Got it, boss.”
