Page 88 of Vitaly

I scoff, my head rearing back. “Do you honestly believe I’ll buy that? I understand why people dislike me, but you… You have every right to wish me death.”

“Oh, Vitaly.” He laughs, but it’s stilted with scorn, his lips drawing into a smile dripping with acid. “I wish so much worse for you than death. However much you think I hate you, triple it… I just happen to hate Nikita more.” He shrugs, but it isn’t nonchalant. His shoulders look heavy when he raises them, like he’s hoisting up all his resentment.

“How?” I ask, my mind fogged with confusion. “How could you possibly hate him more?”

He takes his time answering, a slow breath entering and exiting his nostrils. “You took my brother by mistake… Nikita’stwisted fucking reign has taken my brotherhood. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s bad here. For everyone.”

I’ve noticed. I’ve certainly noticed that Nikita has made some enemies… I never could’ve predicted that Roman would be one of them.

I still don’t quite believe it.

“Still?” he asks, his brow raising as if I spoke the words aloud. When I don’t respond, he pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket, unfolds it, then holds it up for me to see.

If I hadn’t stared at the same image for hours at a time, I might have needed to walk closer to recognize it. But the moment my eyes hit the canvas, I let go of Mila to reach for my back pocket, still feeling the photo there.

“You?” I ask, my voice dropping.

He nods. “You owe me ahellof a lot of money for bribing your way out of prison, but I’ll let you pay it later… The Bratva needs you. Show up for us.”

Roman.

Roman.

I did not see that coming.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, thinking through the list of lieutenants again. How many others have I been wrong about? How many could I get on my side?

“It’s already done.”

What?

I just gape at him, waiting for him to go on.

“In two days, Nikita will be hosting a dinner with all the lieutenants. We’ll attack then. We have about half on our side, so we’ll take out the top ranks first… Nikita, Alik, Grigoriy, then we’ll see who’s still resisting. Once we have the lieutenants, the soldiers should follow, and the ones who don’t will be executed. All we need you to do is show up and not die.”

“Alik?” I ask, my stomach turning at the mention of his death.

Roman frowns. “Look, I like the kid too. A hell of a lot more than I like you, but he’s good in combat, and he isn’t flipping. He’s got to go.”

I glance down at the top of Mila’s head, her father coming to my mind.

Fuck.

“What about Fyodor Alekseev? Has he flipped?”

Roman eyes Mila then shuffles his feet like he’s uncomfortable.

“What?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

He nods to Mila.

“He’s dead,” she says, finally pulling away from me. She takes a deep breath before looking up. “Nikita made me kill him.”

My muscles tense as my jaw drops. Moments pass while I stand stunned, my lips twitching, not knowing what to say.

Her features twist with pain as she shakes her head, as if relieving me of words, then hugs me again. I hug her back and try to absorb some of her sorrow. I don’t think it works.

How is this possible? How could my fun, playful uncle have turned into such a monster?

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