Page 164 of Ivory Ashes

“Was Anatoly telling me the truth?” I ask, trying to make sense of this. “Was he saving me or are you—Is this your plan? I would never have agreed if I knew you were going to do this.”

I want Mikhail. The thought pangs through me with bruising force.

“Mama!” Dante weeps. He’s clinging to Pyotr’s leg because he’s five and he needs someone to hold. He shouldn’t be seeing any of this. I should be the one comforting him. I want to protect him, but I can’t. I don’t know how.

“Let him go,” I beg Pyotr.

Pyotr starts to open his mouth, but behind me, the garage door slides open and yet another figure joins the fray.

“I wondered if you’d try to escape your fate,” Iakov says with a sigh. His hands are in his pockets, oddly relaxed given the scene in front of him. “This is why I like to handle matters like this in person. If you want someone killed right, you have to do it yourself.”

The last person I expected to see here tonight is Mikhail’s father. Then it hits me: he’s Trofim’s father, too.

“Whatever this is,” I beg, “let Dante go. Take me instead.”

A smile twists across his face. “Actually, I think I’ll take you both.”

60

MIKHAIL

Raoul and I left the mansion hours ago. I wanted plausible deniability on our side for anything that went on there while we were gone.

Plus, the Greeks have caused enough havoc to our businesses across the city that we had a few fires to put out.

Raoul is still out securing some of our more important holdings just in case this peace my father brokered with the Greeks doesn’t pan out, but I couldn’t focus on work. Not when the rest of my life is still raining down like volcanic ash around me.

When I pull into the garage, I’m surprised to see Pyotr’s car in its usual space while Anatoly’s car is gone. The plan was to take the black car and fly under the radar in a way Anatoly’s radioactive-green Jeep isn’t capable of. I wouldn’t have assumed Nat would be back already, let alone have had time to be back and then leave again in his own car. Especially since he hasn’t called me with an update yet.

I check my phone and, sure enough, nothing from Nat.

Given my life experience, I’m accustomed to anticipating the worst-case scenario. It’s the first place my mind goes when something is out of the ordinary: someone has betrayed me or someone is dead. There’s rarely another option.

Still, I try to shove that idea down and stay calm.

Anatoly and I reached an understanding about the Viviana situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s not still pissed at me for not jumping for joy when I found out my wife killed our brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if I walked inside and the asshole was wearing a Team Viv t-shirt he’d made by hand.

He called her his sister. He considers her family.

I made a bigger mess of this whole situation than I ever could have imagined. I’m not the only one tangled up in it, either—I took everyone else down with me.

I climb out of the car, already texting Anatoly. Get back here and meet in my office. I want an update.

I send the message and instantly hear an electronic ding coming from the corner of the garage.

I stop short, listening.

The garage is quiet. But that doesn’t mean it’s empty.

I place my hand on the gun on my hip as I call Anatoly. His phone starts to ring. I hear it in my ear, but I also hear the chime echoing off the cement floors and metal walls, bouncing the sound all over the place. It’s hard to track, but I follow it around Pyotr’s car…

And stumble upon the worst-case scenario.

I drop to my knees. “Anatoly!” I grasp my brother’s arm and flip him over. Blood is bubbling slowly out of a hole in his chest and his eyes are closed.

His blood is flowing. That’s a good sign.

But there’s so much of it. Not so good.

---