“They both had to be taught a lesson. With Sergei, though, I gave him a chance. He was dying anyway, and I’d accomplished the mission of taking away what he loved most. I decided I wouldn’t kill him, and I’d allow him to die the way he wanted if he chose Ivan to be Pakhan. I felt what he decided to do with the company was one thing, but the Bratva is who we are. That was his last chance. He blew it when he chose you.”
I blow out a ragged breath as my lungs constrict. I’m finding it harder to breathe, harder to focus. And she can tell.
“Everyone got what they deserved, Mikhail,” she says like she’s always had the right to decide everyone’s fate. “Unfortunately, you survived that night, and I couldn’t kill you while you were in the hospital because my fucking brother guarded you with the best of the best. It’s fine, though. Your survival took Raul out of the game once you were able to identify him, and his death tied up the risk he represented of blowing the whole operation. The goal was still achieved, and now we own the cartel.”
Natalia.
They’re going to use her. Just like I thought. Jesus. Everything I thought was right. Everything
Now Sophia is going to take my wife.
“Leave my wife out of this.”
“If I were you, I’d worry about myself.”
“You two-faced bitch.”
“Yes, I am. Don’t you know it’s the quiet, sweet ones you have to look out for? They’re the silent killers. The ones with all the good ideas. How else would a little old lady take down the new Pakhan of the Baranov?” She grins, wide and proud. “How else would a little old lady kill the last Pakhan? How else would a little old lady kill the lieutenant of one of the deadliest cartel leaders known to man? I was the one who stabbed José Diaz in the neck when I caught that fool taking pictures of Ivan while he met with Barabbas Ponteix. Me. I did it all.”
“Not going to give me any credit, my love?” says a voice from outside the room that makes this moment so much worse.
Aleksander steps in, and I feel my mouth drop and the knife in my heart twist.
“You bastard,” I grate.
“Sorry, Mr. Dmitriyev. Everyone has to look out for themselves and those they love,” he answers, and to my surprise, he leans forward and plants a kiss on Sophia’s lips.
“Of course, you helped, Aleksander. You kept me well informed of my nephew’s daily activities and came up with the idea to slit José’s throat.”
“The two of you can rot in hell!” I shout.
“Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll see you there, dear nephew. You might have as much as six hours to live.”
“Six … hours?” I stutter.
“Six hours to be trapped in your mind and feel helpless. You will die in that helpless state, unable to save your pretty wife. It’s the worst kind of death for a man like you. The paralysis is taking you now. Then your mind will go. When your organs start shutting down, that’s it. Game over.”
Game over.
She fades from my sight, and my soul screams as the helplessness takes me.
I think I hear gunfire somewhere in the back of beyond. It sounds like it’s coming from outside.
I feel myself fall, but it’s like my brain disconnects from my body.
As I hit the ground, my last thought is of the beautiful woman I stole because she wore a wedding dress that didn’t belong to her.
But she belonged to me.
I promised her life would be better.
Now it’s not going to be, and there’s nothing I can do.
I will love you always, Natalia. I’m so sorry.
48
Natalia
