Page 163 of Ivory Oath

My father just shot one of Mikhail’s best friends in the chest and is now holding his son hostage. There’s no saying what kind of hell Mikhail has planned for him.

I dodge the question. “We just want Dante safe.”

“In that case—” He takes a step backward, dragging Dante’s much-shorter legs across the cement. “You won’t mind if I take Dante with me and dump him a block or two from here. Just to make sure I can clear the area before you come looking for him.”

“No!” I lunge forward, but my father flexes his fingers around his gun. It’s a silent threat.

He’ll kill him if he needs to.

“He’ll be fine,” he says coolly. “Besides, it will be good bonding time for us.”

My father takes another step towards the exit when, suddenly, a loud roar echoes behind him.

He jolts, loosening his grip on Dante just enough that Dante squirms away from him and runs, full-tilt, towards me. The distraction gives Mikhail time to close the gap.

Before my father can react, Mikhail swipes his gun out of his hand and has his arm around his neck.

“Mama!” Dante leaps into my arms, the remote control for his dinosaur still in his hands.

I cradle him against my chest. “You’re okay, baby. No one is going to hurt you.”

“Please. No.” My father’s pleas echo through the empty parking garage. All of the arrogance has drained out of his voice, replaced with raw fear.

“You just tried to use my son like a bartering chip,” Mikhail growls, squeezing my father’s neck until his face is red. “Was using Viviana as one her entire life not enough for you?”

“This was Trofim’s idea!” he cries. “I never wanted to come here and take you on. He blackmailed me into?—”

Mikhail drops him to the ground and kicks him in the stomach. I twist Dante away so he can’t see.

“You did so good, bud.” I kiss his cheek. “You were so smart.”

He sniffles. “My dinosaur scared him away with his roars.”

“That was genius. You scared him and escaped. I’m so proud of you.”

My father’s groans fill the space, but I hold Dante against me, shushing him as he whimpers. “Please,” my father whines. “Viviana, please! Don’t let him kill me.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands tall. My father doesn’t deserve another second of my time, but… he’s still my father.

Anatoly appears in front of me. His eyes are still trained on Trofim’s limp body, but he’s talking to me. “I’ll take Dante if you want to go deal with that.”

I’m not sure what Anatoly means, but sitting here huddled in a corner while Mikhail cleans up my mess seems selfish. So I kiss Dante and promise him I’ll be right back. Then I stand tall, press my shoulders back, and cross the parking garage.

Gunsmoke is still wreathed in the air. Cement dust has settled like a fine powder on the ground. My shoes crunch over shattered glass.

Mikhail must hear me coming because he drags my father to his feet, the gun pointed at his temple, and faces me. “What do you want me to do, Viviana?”

I lose some of my confidence. I don’t know anything about torture. Even seeing my father like this, bloody and limp in Mikhail’s grasp, makes me nauseous. “You’re leaving it up to me?”

“As Agostino said, he’s your father. The decision should be yours.”

My father whimpers and blood spills over his lower lip. “Vivi,” he coos, using the nickname he gave me when I was a child. I only heard it when he wanted something from me. This time is no different. “I went about things the wrong way, but I only ever wanted what was best for you. You know that, don’t you?”

His lip is busted and there’s a mottled bruise around his eye. He’s pawing weakly at Mikhail’s hand around his neck, but he doesn’t have a chance of breaking free.

He’s weak.

He has always been weak.

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