Page 146 of Emerald Vices

When I feel heat behind me, I turn to see that the flames have chewed up the stairs. Going back down that way is no longer an option.

I look back to my father as he turns slowly. My whole world is a kaleidoscope of red and black and my eyes sting.

“Why did you do it?” I rasp. “Why did you turn in the Rostovs and run? Why did you abandon us?”

Slavik’s eyebrow floats upward. “You’re asking now?”

“There won’t be another chance.” Heat sears my throat. Sweat trickles down my spine.

“Your mother used to tell me that I didn’t have what it took to be a pakhan anywhere else.” He’s whispering, but somehow, his voice carries across the dozen or so yards between us. “I had to prove her wrong.”

“And you decided to destroy what you built here first?”

“I couldn’t let her enjoy what I had created,” he snarls. “I wasn’t going to let her reap the benefits of what was mine.”

“You took her sanity. Why take her comfort, too?”

“Because she refused to bend. I had no choice but to break her.”

The screams coming from beneath us are growing more and more audible. Through the frenzy of voices, I hear one raised above all the others. “Andrey!”

My father recognizes it, too.

“Your woman is already mourning your death.” Slavik smiles through his sweat-drenched face as he sinks onto his knees. The wood groans beneath him. “Can you hear her cry?”

“I promised her I would come back to her. I intend to keep that promise.”

Slavik clutches his heart sarcastically. “How touching. You’re a sentimental one, aren’t you?”

“What I am—” I raise my gun as the flames lick closer. “—is a man of my word.”

Slavik pouts out a lip, still mocking me. “You would shoot a defenseless man?”

“No.” I snort. “I don’t intend to waste another bullet on you.”

I raise my foot and slam it down on the wood plank beneath me. The same one Slavik is kneeling on.

The wood vibrates, absorbing the force… until it can’t take anymore. And it splinters.

My father falls through the gap. The flames beneath swallow him before he even has a chance to scream.

“Goodbye, Slavik,” I whisper to the entire space where he’d stood. “The flames can have you.”

Then I turn and jump.

EPILOGUE: ANDREY

SIX MONTHS LATER

ANDREY: You better not still be at work.

NATALIA: What if I am?

ANDREY: Then I’m gonna have words with Richard. And they won’t be pleasant.

NATALIA: I just got back from six months of maternity leave. Richard has been accommodating enough.

ANDREY: Only because he’s terrified of me. Sure you don’t want to quit?

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