Page 68 of Sexting the Silverfox

I don’t feel like shouting or snarling or breaking everything in sight. I’m all too familiar with this strange calmness. I have felt it before, and it was a prelude to horrible things, things of my own doing. Grigori Fedorov tried to play me against Arkady Abramovic, while Arkady did the same.

Smack in the middle, Audrey was left to fend for herself—scared, defenseless, pregnant, and vulnerable.

The rage I am experiencing is otherworldly and so intense that I need deep and measured breaths to keep my eyesight focused. I picked the highest spot across the yard atop a neighboring warehouse. The night sky, the absence of functioning streetlights, and my position next to a massive air conditioning unit are all excellent tactical advantages.

None of Arkady’s goons have seen me, not even his long-range spotters. I can see all of them, however, and from this vantage point, I can easily take as many of them down as necessary. My sniper rifle is an M110 SASS, perfect for this target-rich environment.

I honed my skills on this baby, and one shot can reach hundreds of yards. I’ve done that before successfully.

When Grigori proposed I use my sniper skills tonight, I had my doubts as to where it might end. My heart was heavy, knowing that I might have to let him take Audrey away, despite already knowing the depraved lengths he went to in order to keep her under his control. But knowing that she’s pregnant changes everything, including my own mindset. I love her. Deeply. I love her too much to let her go. My instincts are calling, demanding I do the right thing, no matter how wrong it might seem.

That’s my woman they’re using as a bargaining chip.

My woman. My child.

I cannot allow this farce to continue. As Grigori and Arkady quarrel, I can hear them through my earpiece. I can hear Audrey’s furious gasps.

“Grigori, this is the only chance you’re going to have,” Arkady warns him. “Stop stalling and get that pen out. I’ve got places to be, people to see, hands to shake. And your daughter deserves the finest prenatal care available.”

“Your pride will take you to your grave,” Grigori says.

That’s supposed to be the code word. Grave.

All right, Mr. Fedorov. Let me show you what I’m capable of when you cross me and when you take me for a brawny fool. My rifle is loaded, and my scope has a precise angle.

The wind is blowing from the east slowly enough to warrant a clear shot at this range.

My finger squeezes the trigger while I hold my breath to stay motionless in my position.

FLIT.

The silencer works wonders.

The bullet pierces Arkady’s back and exits through the front, exploding his heart in the process. Blood gushes outward as he falls to the ground, suddenly lifeless.

Audrey screams and jumps back.

Grigori moves to grab her, but I’m not done yet. While Arkady’s men scramble in shock, trying to take cover before I empty the whole magazine in their asses, I shift my crosshairs onto Audrey’s father. “You’re not taking her away from me ever again,” I whisper.

For a split second, I’m torn.

He’s still her father. If I kill him, will she ever forgive me? Will she understand? I’d be trading one pain for another. But if I don’t, he’ll simply walk out of there with Audrey. Arkady’s goons are useless without their boss. None of them possesses the ambition nor the foresight to take over and continue his mission to conquer New York. They’ll let Grigori and Audrey leave. They know better than to kill the head of the Fedorov Bratva in retaliation for what I just did.

They’ll show no loyalty to a dead man.

But I can’t let him walk away.

I fire a second shot, hitting Grigori in the leg, and fracturing his femur.

Audrey jumps back a second time and hides behind the nearest car while Arkady’s men are still scattering like terrified geese. A couple of them shoot randomly into the night, unable to guess where my shots are coming from.

I didn’t want things to go this far or get this ugly. I had hoped for a better conclusion. But they pushed me. They all pushed me to this dark conclusion.

But the darkness is where I’m most comfortable. I know every corner of it. I spent years exploring the darkness, living in it, thriving in it. I guess I never really left it behind. I see that now. I’m just sorry that Audrey had to bear witness to it.

I fire a couple more bullets into the thinning crowd of Abramovic bodyguards, giving them a minute or so to jump into their cars and get as far away as possible. Now, Arkady’s words come back to me. Their loyalty was short-lived. Money-based. They left his body on the ground, not caring if the rats ate him. No last rites. Nothing.

The irony is glaring, to say the least.

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