Page 86 of Vitaly

I swallow, ready to confess everything, and I’m certain he can see it on my face when his mouth opens to speak.

“Is it because you’re guilty, Mila? Because if that’s the case, your whole family will have to pay for it. That’s the product of badblood, and I won’t be dirtying our gene pool with your traitorous family trash either.”

I stare at him, my hand still outstretched. Slowly, it lowers, my eyes darting while I try to think of what to do.

He knows I’m lying. He’s going to kill me, no matter what he says.

This is a game. It’s just fun for him.

But if I say I did it… I believe him when he says he’d kill my family right in front of me, right now, just so I’ll suffer before he ends my life.

My eyes sting while I peer at my father’s stone-cold face, no longer crimped in confusion, no longer looking away from me. A moment passes before he nods, giving me permission to end his life, or more likely, save my brothers.

“I’m not guilty, Pakhan,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “But my father isn’t guilty either. He misunderstood what I told him.”

“You’re lyingnow.” Nikita limps to me and takes the back of my neck before bringing his face close to mine. “And you’re making me question you. Please don’t do that… Did your father lie or didn’t he?”

The back of my throat hurts as emotion pushes up, but tears don’t come. I think my father taught me so well not to cry that he isn’t capable of summoning them. But I feel the pain, deep down, and I don’t know if it’ll ever fade.

I nod, my eyes closing as I swallow. “He lied.”

“I thought so,” Nikita coos. He takes my hand and places the knife in it. “Now, why don’t you prove your loyalty to me?”

My eyes whip to Nikita as my lips part with a gasp. My face twists with a silent plea, the last I’ll ever beg of him.Don’t be this cruel.

Nikita sighs as he looks around my pained face. “I know it’s hard, ????. I’m so sorry it has to be this way… But I’ve thought very long and hard about it, and I’ve decided to indulge your wishes. I want you to be my wife, and my wifeneedsto be strong. You can be strong, can’t you?”

He smiles as if he’s encouraging me, as if that wasn’t the most fucked-up marriage proposal in history.

I don’t smile back. Don’t even force it. I grasp the knife when Nikita presses, but all I want to do is jam it into his side andthen do it again a thousand times. Anarchy would ensue, and it’s likely the Bratva wouldn’t survive … but it might be worth it.

I close my eyes at that thought, forcing it down while I grasp the knife tighter.

I am an Alekseev. I do not abandon my people.

When I open my eyes, I peer at my brothers. Leo is slumped forward, a hand on his forehead like he can’t stand to watch. Luka just stares, his face as inscrutable as when I walked in here. A slice of hatred cuts through me at his ambivalence. This must be the worst moment of my life, and he’s the only person in this room who has the opportunity to offer a chance of solidarity. Instead, he offers me ice.

I step past Nikita and up to my father who doesn’t flinch, cringe, or otherwise respond. I should hate him for feeding me to Nikita like this, but he was only doing what he felt was right. He put the Bratva above his family the same way he taught me to.

He’s strong. Loyal. Brave.

He was wasted on this world.

“Do it,” he demands when I just stand in front of him with the knife at my side, my throat feeling as though it’s been punched. “Don’t you dare cry.”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” I whisper.

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “Marry the Pakhan. Bring pride to our name, Mila.”

I close my eyes and lean into him, seeking warmth I know he’ll never give, even when it’s his last chance. It kills me that even now, I know he isn’t talking about Vitaly. He thinks Nikita will actually marry me. That his death is more than a cruel game.

My eyes clenched shut, I place my hand over my father’s heart, feeling its beat before plunging the knife into his chest.

He grunts, his body tensing against me as he continues to stand tall for several seconds before he topples to the floor. Life has drained from his eyes before he ever makes it.

“Good girl,” Nikita says, placing his hand on my shoulder. He kisses my cheek then jerks the knife from my father’s chest while I stand numb, staring at the corpse of the first man I ever loved.

“Roman, take my fiancée dress shopping, will you? I think Mila and I will marry next week. I’m feelingspontaneous.”

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