Page 101 of Vitaly

I just watch him while he studies the stool with a furrowed brow, carefully considering something. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of saying anything else. Of telling me more of a plan. Of telling mehisplan.

Or why he’s doing this.

But then again, I know why.

He removes the stool while steadying me then stuffs the tarp on the platform so I can stand instead of hang by my palms. Slowly, he lowers my feet, ensuring I can support myself before pulling his hands away.

I’m amazed by the whole thing. Mainly because I know he’ll be killed if Nikita finds out he’s doing this. He’s got one foot on either side of the fence, the only one capable of fooling both Nikita and me.

“Power feels good, doesn’t it, Alik?”

He tenses, his head dipped looking at the tarp. Slowly he straightens to look at me, showing nothing.

“I’mamazedat what you’re capable of doing just to keep the power my uncle gives you.”

His lips lift into a crooked grin. “Not all of us were born with the luxury of having the last name Petrov. Some of us have to do things just to survive.”

“I’m nailed to a cross right now.”

Alik’s grin widens as he tips his head to the side. “Touché.”

“Why won’t you fight with me?” I ask, my lips drawing together. “You know Nikita is a maniac. How can you choose him over me? Overyourpeople?”

“My people,” he huffs under his breath, looking up at the ceiling while he runs a hand over his mouth. “A week ago, I would’ve crowned Nikita king of the underworld as long as hepromised to send you to hell.” He peers at me as he sighs. “Now…”

He doesn’t say the words. I don’t think he can.

But his eyes flicker with a vulnerability that a man like Alik doesn’t show. His throat contracts as he swallows. Then he cracks his neck as if the emotion that just overtook him is too uncomfortable.

He forgives me.

That’s what this is, what all of this is. Forgiveness. Loyalty. Half of it, at least.

He clears his throat. “If you somehow manage to make it out of this alive, I’ll accept whatever fate you have for me. And because you’re a fair man, I know you’ll spare my wife… Nikita will not. And unfortunately, I think he’s got you beat.”

He takes a step back from me, his mask reforming on his face. “Good luck,” he says with a nod.

As he leaves, I close my eyes and start to visualize the scenario in which I get to fight, a technique I learned long ago.

Not having Alik is a setback. Nikita’s torturous punishments will keep many from even thinking of turning against him.

But Alik is forgetting something. The same thing that motivates him to take a knife to a man’s face while he thrashes and screams is what motivates me to stand taller now, making fists around the nails.

I’m not just fighting formysurvival. I’m fighting for the love of my life’s.

And as long as I can get my arms free…

I will not lose.

29

MILA

Nikita likes me in black.

He always has. He says it makes me look sexy, sophisticated, alluring. I’ve dyed my hair since I was seventeen to match the dark image he prefers of me.

So as I stand wearing a white dress with my hands tied behind my back in a room down the hall from the ballroom, I know he didn’t choose the outfit carelessly. He chose white because it’ll be easier to see my blood when it spills. It’ll be a stark contrast against the satin material, providing a striking view for the audience he’s gathered.

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