214

Maykl
I leave two brigadiers on the door to the pottery studio after dropping Kira there then go to an all-hands bratva meeting in the basement. That’s where bratva business takes place. No one but the brotherhood has access to the floor beneath the parking garage. No one else even knows it exists.
We stand in a horseshoe around Ravil and Maxim for the briefing. Dima is here and so is Pavel, another brother who moved to Los Angeles to be with his girlfriend. They both must’ve been summoned back to Chicago for the show-down.
Ravil addresses us. “Tonight, a branch of the Moscow bratva will attempt to infiltrate the building to kill us all and take Sasha alive. All civilians, including our women and children will all be evacuated from the building this afternoon for their safety and taken to an undisclosed location. We will take their phones and electronic devices to prevent inadvertent leaking of their whereabouts.
“I have requested assistance from the Italiansthe Tacone familyto provide for their security at the location where they will be sequestered, and they have agreed.
“This group here, including myself, will remain stationed here to take down the Moscow cell when they arrive. Wear Kevlar. I want silencers on your guns and expect you to shoot to kill. Dima has breached all of their phones, so we are privy to their conversations and plans, but even so, expect surprises.” Ravil surveys the group. “Any questions?”
The group is somber, but the men present square their shoulders and put their battle masks on.
“Maxim will give you each your positions. I want you in them by six p. m. Understood?”
We all nod.
“Dismissed. Go and see Maxim. Maykl, a word.”
I stay as the rest of the brigadiers file to the door where Maxim gives them their orders. Only Ravil’s inner circle remains where they are: Oleg, Pavel, Dima, Nikolai, and Adrian.
Ravil addresses me without preamble. “What does Kira know?”
I shake my head. “Nothing at all. She still believes she helped the FBI. Last night, she expressed remorse over her actions.”
“I heard.”
Ravil’s expression is impossible to read. “Keep her here tonight. She stays at your side. She’s a part of this.”
I tense, not liking it, but also not about to argue with my pakhan.
As if reading my mind, he says, “She’s politsiya. She’s accustomed to danger.”
“What purpose does she serve in the fray?” I have to ask.
“I need to see where her loyalties truly lie. She cannot remain here beyond tonight if I’m not sure.”
I feel as though Ravil has a hold of my windpipe and is choking the life out of me, but it’s just the thought of Kira not remaining past tonight.
I’d give anything to make that not true. To ensure I keep her forever.
But this is her test. I understand it. I may fucking hate it, but I understand it.
“Yes, Pakhan.”
He tips his head toward the door. “Get your position from Maxim.”
Kira
Something’s happening.
I had a perfect day, starting with mind-blowing sex, followed by a pottery lesson and then making an early steak dinner with Maykl in his kitchen. Over dinner, he told me that Mika and his family had arrived and were checking into the Waldorf Astoria.
Now, though, he keeps looking out the window at the street below like a soldier expecting trouble.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Are the FBI coming tonight?”
He doesn’t answer. But he strides to his closet and emerges with two bullet-proof vests. “Put this on.” He hands me one.
“Maykl, what’s happening?”
“They’re coming.” He pulls the vest on over his shirt and fastens it in place then pops a comms unit in his ear.
I stare at the vest he gave me, guilt ratcheting up into my throat. I caused this. There are many innocent people in the building who could be hurt.
I try to hand it back to him. “Someone else should wear this. Give it to one of the civilians here.”
He shakes his head as he screws a silencer on his pistol and then tucks it in a holster at his hip. “They are protected. Put it on, Kira. I need to know you’re safe.”
My stomach drops down to my feet. I caused this whole thing, and all he’s worried about is my safety. I throw my arms around him in a tight embrace.
He holds me fiercely then abruptly releases me. “Put it on. We have to go soon.”
I slide my arms through the heavy vest and fasten it in place. “Where are we going?”
Maykl tucks his weapon and ammo in a holster then adjusts my vest, tightening it. “To the parking garage. That’s where we expect the breach.”
“Breach?”
He slides a glance in my direction, and I suddenly suspect he’s not being honest with me.
I narrow my eyes. “Wouldn’t they come in the front doors with a warrant?” I don’t know American laws that well, but I’ve seen their movies.
“Come.” Maykl’s voice is curt now. He’s all business. He opens the door and tips his head toward the hallway.
“What’s happening, Maykl?” I follow his swift footsteps down the hallway. Instead of taking the elevator, we take the stairwell down to the basement level but don’t exit. Maykl opens the door, nods at someone, and closes it again.
“Have a seat.” He indicates the steps.
I don’t move.
He leans a shoulder against the wall, positioned so he can see through the narrow window of the reinforced steel door. “Maykl and Kira in position.” He speaks into his comms.
“Did you really believe you were aiding the FBI, Kira?” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, just keeps looking through the window.
I go still at his question, ice cold washing over my skin.
Blyad’.
What have I done?
I quickly review the facts. I never spoke to any American agency. All of the information was sent directly to Stepanov, who very easily could have…ugh. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.
Of course, he’s in the pocket of the bratva. Why wouldn’t he be? Half the police force in Moscow is.
Gospodi, how I got played!
“Who is coming, Maykl?” I whisper, even though I already know.
“Moscow bratva.”
Tears fill my eyes. “What do they want?”
“To kill everyone and take Sasha. She is the heiress of the previous pakhan in Moscow. The owner of oil wells that are worth many millions.”
I sink to the steps and bury my face in my hands. “I’m so sorry.” My voice is clogged with guilt.
Maykl looks at me for the first time since we started the conversation. “You did what you thought you had to do to find your nephew.”
Tears spill. “How can you be so forgiving? I brought you a war. People will die tonight, and it’s all my fault.”
Maykl holds up a finger, listening to his comms device. “Copy.” To me, he says in a low voice, “They’re here. Simultaneous breach of the front door and the parking garage.” He takes his pistol from the holster and removes the safety.
“Let’s go.” He turns the door handle silently and drops to a crouch as he exits.
I follow suit, staying behind him, mimicking his moves. I make sure the door closes without a sound. We creep behind one of the cars in the garage and wait. A few moments later, eight figures stride into the underground parking lot. They aren’t dressed in black. They aren’t stealthy. They strut in like they own the place. They divide up, four men moving to the right, four to the left.
When they each climb atop a car, I frown and glance at Maykl.
One of them reaches toward the ceiling, and I suddenly understand. “Explosives,” I mouth, then simulate a bomb exploding with my hands.
Maykl’s eyes blaze with purpose, and he lifts his head, aims his gun, and fires three times. “They have explosives,” he barks into his comms unit between the second and third shot.
Three men drop.
Someone else fires from the opposite corner of the garage. Another silenced shot, so one of the Chicago bratva members, no doubt.
The remaining five intruders shout to each other and drop from the cars, crouching out of view. And then the garage goes dead silent.
I wish to God I had a weapon myself.
Well, fuck it. I know how to get one. I creep behind the cars, hugging the concrete wall.
Maykl reaches for me, trying to grab my arm, but I’m already too far. I move quickly toward the closest fallen body.
A bullet pings near me, shot from a silenced gun. Friendly fire. I hear Maykl bark something angry and urgent.
I keep moving. I’m drawing closer.
I hear the soft scrape of shoes on concrete. The rasp of breath close by. I find the body and quickly search it for a gun. As I do, I’m fired upon.
I yank the pistol up and return fire, running to duck for cover behind another car. Maykl fires from his corner to cover me.
These guns are loud; hopefully they won’t draw the attention of the local police.
There’s more gunfire, and I see two guys escaping onto the street. I curse under my breath and move to follow when someone fires at me.
I duck back down and point my gun around the car, adjusting the car’s mirror out to show me more of the surroundings.
I catch sight of a crouched figure behind the next car. Moving as stealthily as I can, I skirt around the vehicle and raise my gun, pointing it.
“Freeze,” I bark in Russian. Maykl may be comfortable shooting to kill, but my police procedure drills override that instinct in me.
“Kira.”
It’s Stepanov.
Fuck. I should have shot him immediately because now that I’m looking at him in the eyes, it’s impossible to pull the trigger. He’s my boss. Or he was.
Still, I don’t lower the gun. He used me. Lied to me. Probably never planned to help me find Mika.
His brow wrinkles. “Kira?”
“Where are the FBI, Stepanov?” I demand.
“Kira!” Maykl jogs toward me, gun pointed at Stepanov. Another man also runs from the shadowsNikolai. “Step out of the wayI have orders to kill.”
In the moment, my attention diverts to Maykl, Stepanov surges to his feet, snatches my gun, and seizes me, putting my own gun to my head. “Don’t move or she dies.” He wraps his forearm around my neck and yanks back, dragging me backward.
“No!” Maykl immediately stops advancing. He puts both his hands in the air.
Nikolai moves forward slowly, gun still pointed.
“Put the guns down,” Stepanov shouts.
I consider fighting. But I know too well how swiftly my life would end if that trigger went off.
“She’s working with him,” Nikolai growls.
“No.” I seek Maykl’s gaze. “I’m not, I swear. I’m sorry I didn’t kill him. I should have.”
“Ah, I see how it is now.” Stepanov sounds delighted. “This is the man you seduced? Maykl ____?” He’s dragging me backward as he speaks. “I did a little research on your lover, Kira. I found something out that might interest you.”
I see the look of dismay in Maykl’s eyes. “No. Let her go!” He shouts in Russian. “I’m putting my gun down, you see?” He slowly lowers his hands and stoops to put his gun on the concrete floor. “Put it down!” he yells at Nikolai, who slowly does the same.
“He doesn’t want me to tell you. Do you see?” Stepanov is gloating now.
My skin crawls with gooseflesh. I don’t understand what it is Stepanov could possibly tell me.
“Do you want to know who killed your father, Kira? I mean which man actually pulled the trigger?”
No.
My blood freezes to ice in my veins.
No no no no no.
“What?”
There’s a wild rushing in my ears. My temples throb like icepicks have been stabbed in both sides. I can barely see.
Stepanov keeps walking us both backward.
“It’s…it’s not true, is it?” I seek Maykl’s gaze, but all I see swirling there is guilt. Regret. “Maykl?”
“Kira, I’m sorry.”
“Did you know?” I practically wail the words. Stepanov has now pulled me back to the mouth of the parking garage, to street level. “This whole time? You knew you killed my father?”
“I’m sorry. Kirahe sold your sister. He tried to sell you, too, in that moment when he was begging for his life.”
Stepanov takes his gun from my head and fires at Maykl, striking him in the middle of the chest.
Maykl’s thrown backward, onto his back.
Knowing he’s wearing Kevlar and probably survived the shot, I slam my elbow into Stepanov’s ribs, grab his wrist and swing the gun up in the air before he can fire on Nikolai.
Nikolai picks up his gun from the floor and aims it at Stepanov, but at that moment, a car screeches up to the curb and a door is thrown open. Stepanov throws himself into it, and it screeches off as he slams the door.
Nikolai lifts his gun in frustration then turns to offer a hand to help a winded Maykl to his feet.
I can’t move for a moment, my feet sealed to the concrete. I’m still trying to assimilate it all.
Maykl killed my father.
And he knew it this whole time.
I clutch my stomach, suddenly wanting to puke.
“Kira,” Maykl croaks.
I shake my head. “Don’t,” I warn, but he goes on.
“I wanted to tell you. I did. I tried, do you remember?”
But I don’t want to hear it. I can’t. Maykl’s moving toward me, but I can barely see him, my eyes are too blurred with tears.
I can’t take any of this. I should have known happiness was not in the cards for me. It figures fate would deliver me to the door of my father’s killer. Godif I believed there was onemust be having a great big laugh at my expense.
“Don’t!” I cry, holding my palm out, as if to ward him away. “Stay back.”
He stops. Spreads his hands. “Kira, please.”
Tears streak down my cheeks. “No, Maykl. Just…no. I can’t. I…have to go.”
I turn and run out onto the street. I don’t even know where I’m going or what I’ll do. I don’t have any of my things with me. No money or passport. All I can think is that I need to get away from Maykl.
“Kirawait! Kira!” Maykl calls after me, but I’m running fast and hard, slipping on the icy sidewalks and then catching my stride again, doing everything I can to just get away.