Page 26 of Vows in Violence

The fire marshal lingerslonger than I had anticipated. I had planned on avoiding any interaction with the officials, blending seamlessly into the chaos that enveloped the scene. However, it quickly becomes apparent that their primary objective is locating the owners of the house.

I weigh my options. I could stay here, hidden all day, and they may not leave. If I want to find Vivi and Nikolai, I need to move.

Reluctantly, I step forward, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on my shoulders.

"Mr. Romanov?" the fire marshal inquires as I walk toward him, his voice carrying an authoritative edge as he holds a clipboard firmly in his hand. His gaze scans me from head to toe, and his eyes widen.

Blood is splattered across my shirt. "Yes, that's me," I respond, striving to keep my voice steady and devoid of the turmoil brewing inside me.

He nods and tightens his hold on the clipboard. When he speaks, his voice is low and has lost all the authority it carried only moments ago. "The fire seems suspicious," he states, his tone grave and laden with unspoken conclusions.

I nod, already acutely aware of the nature of the blaze. Suspicious was an understatement. "What makes you say that?" I ask, trying to mask my inner anxiety with a veneer of calm curiosity.

"There were multiple ignition points," he explains, flipping through his detailed notes with a furrowed brow. "And we've removed a number of bodies from the house, both male and female. The coroner will be keeping them until they can be identified."

Each word he speaks feels like a blow, the reality of the situation sinking deeper. The mention of the bodies, both male and female, sends my stomach churning.

Bodies. How many lives were snuffed out in those flames? "Do you have any idea who they might be?" I ask.

The fire marshal looks at me, his expression grim. "To be honest, some of them are in really bad shape, Mr. Romanov. I would warn any family members that want to make a claim."

I swallow hard. Most of the people under my employment didn’t have families to claim their bodies. The nature of the business attracted lost souls, people looking for someone to be in charge of their lives.

And Vivi…

The thought of what may have happened to her makes it difficult to steady the rage boiling inside me. I clench my fists, trying to maintain my composure. I can't afford to lose it now.

After the fire marshal leaves, the firefighters pack up their equipment, and the coroner takes away the last body, I'm left staring at the husk of what used to be the castle for my kingdom. So many years of careful planning, of hiring contractors and replanning, of making sure everything was perfect. Gone in hours.

Along with Vivi.

I walk closer to the charred remains, the smell of smoke still thick in the air.

I try calling Nikolai again, the phone pressed tightly to my ear. It rings several times before going to voicemail. No voice, just an automated message with the phone number. I hope this is a good sign that Nikolai got out and his phone is still on. But why isn’t he picking up? My mind races with possibilities, none of them comforting.

I step through the front door, which hangs precariously on one hinge, a casualty of the firefighters forcing it open. The destruction is worse than I imagined. I walk to the left, where the sitting room and Angel’s cage used to be. The room is completely destroyed. The golden bars of the cage are blackened, and part of the ceiling has collapsed into a pile inside it.

Images batter me: Angel inside that cage, trying desperately to get out. His death was, without doubt, gruesome. Painful.

He looked just like his sister. Same eyes. Same hair.

God, I can’t bear it.

Lifting my hand, I swipe it through my hair, the gesture restless, agitated.

An unsettling energy courses through my body, the need to do something, to make a decision. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. Vivi is gone. Maybe. Probably.

No, that can’t be the case. I waited years to have her. I’m not going to lose her like this.

I go back outside, not trusting the integrity of the building enough to continue inside. I circle the house, my mind racing. In the back are the old stables, which I had converted into a garage for my collection of cars. Miraculously, the building remains pristine.

Azrael didn’t care about taking my cars from me; they were after everything else.

I push open the garage door and flick on the lights. Two rows of expensive vehicles greet me, their polished surfaces reflecting the harsh overhead lights. It's a stark contrast to the devastation outside.

My gaze sweeps over the cars, and for a moment, I allow myself to think of escape—a way to regroup and plan my next move. I need to find Nikolai. I need to find out who did this. And I need to make them pay.

The hum of the garage lights is the only sound, a reminder of the normalcy that once was. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. I need to stay focused.

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