Nadia looks up at Aleksandr, her voice barely more than a whisper. “And if Sho doesn’t help us?”
Aleksandr’s smile widens, the shadows in his eyes growing darker. “He doesn’t have a choice.”
My eyes flicker to Nadia, her hands trembling but her jaw set in determination. I turn to Aleksandr, trying to read his stoic expression for any hint of doubt or fear. But his face is like a marble statue, giving nothing away.
“Fine,” I finally say, my voice hollow. “But if this goes wrong, we’re all dead.”
Aleksandr’s smile fades, his gaze steely. “Then we better make sure it doesn’t go wrong.”
GWEN
I know nine days have passed. How do I know this? Because Boris has lunch with me everyday. A ham and cheese sandwich with mustard and mayo, wavy Lays potato chips, and water everyday like clock work. If I don’t eat with him, then I don’t eat at all.
He’s even upgraded my basement to include a cot and a long metal chain that lets me move about six feet in all directions. I can only walk to the stairs, a bucket that acts as my bathroom and a small table with two chairs where we have lunch together everyday.
Every lunch starts and ends the same way. He asks me questions about myself, and I respond with questions about Johanna, Nikolai’s mom, which normally results in him knocking me out via a punch to the face or an injection.
Boris comes down the stairs with our normal lunch, two flute glasses, and a green glass bottle with gold accents.
I cross my legs on my cot, looking at him from the corner of my eye. I sigh. “Are we celebrating something?”
“I’m celebrating,” Boris says in a melodic tone, placing the glasses down he beckons me over.
I make my way over to Boris with a bored expression and the music of my chain rattling against the concrete floor as I sit in my plastic folded chair. “You didn’t come here because you thought I’d be happy for you, did you?”
Boris slides me my sandwich and laughs. “You can be happy for you, because I just sent Nikolai that picture of you last night.”
“Excuse me?” I sit up bone-straight. “You took that a week ago, why send it now?”
“Because I’ve made it so he has to agree to my terms, and your boyfriend is so infatuated with you, he will walk right into my trap.” Boris smiles smugly as he pops the cork to the champagne.
“Trap? Boris, what did you fucking do?”
Boris’s laughter echoes in the cold, damp basement as he pours the champagne, his every move deliberate and unhurried, as if he’s savoring the moment.
“You see, your precious Nikolai and his siblings think they’re clever,” he says, handing me a flute of champagne as if this were some casual celebration. “They are probably planning on using their connection to Sho Matsumoto to plot against me.”
“Who’s Sho Matsumoto?”
“He is the heir to the Yakuza, or he was.” Boris shrugs, opening up his sandwich. “Until he betrayed his uncles during a deal and was exiled out of Japan.”
“So they are going to trade Sho for me; seems like your plans are falling through, B.” I smirk, twisting my lips in satisfaction.
“I already made that deal with the Yakuza, darling.” Boris’s smile spreads so large I can feel it invading my chest. “In exchange for my escape, or better yet the throne to the Bratva, I will give them Sho, dead or alive.”
I stare at the glass in my hand, the bubbling liquid mocking me. “You’re using your children as pawns. They won’t hesitate to kill Nik or Sho the minute they see them, will they?” My voice trembles, and I hate that he can hear my fear.
Boris smirks, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “Exactly. Killing two birds with one stone, as they say. Once they’re out of theway, I’ll be back on top, reestablished as the head of the Bratva, with the Yakuza at my back.”
A wave of nausea washes over me as I struggle to keep my composure. “You’re a horrible father. How fragile is your ego if you’re doing all of this just because your wife cheated on you?”
His eyes darken, but the smile never leaves his face. “This isn’t about ego, Gwen. This is about preserving a true Russian heir. One who isn’t tainted by infidelity. One who isn’t fathered by a fucking American.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “You know who Nikolai’s father is?”
“I do, but he’s a little harder to get closer to. I need the Bratva to kill him, and he knows I’m coming.” Boris smiles to himself and I can see how his eyes twinkle. My stomach rolls.
“You sent him her head, didn’t you?”