Page 123 of Savage Reign

“Why?” I press. “Why would the Black Company care about the casino deal? I’m sure they can secure the same kind of deal elsewhere without the hassle of coming up against two powerful bratvas.”

“Isn’t it obvious? They want to crush the Syndicate. Get revenge for what happened in the past.”

My jaw tightens, and wrath settles in my bones. If the Black Company is coming for revenge, I’ll stand with the Syndicate.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

He tilts his head, his lips curling into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so hollow. “I don’t have one. Just kill me.”

I tip my head back. Killing him would be easy, but would it feel like justice or leave me empty inside?

“It’s too bad my wife begged me not to kill you.”

He doesn’t look relieved. He meets my stare without hesitation.

“Why did you step in? Why take out Igor when you knew this would be the end for you?”

He exhales, the sound heavy with something close to regret. “Maybe there’s a shred of my soul left that hasn’t turned black. She begged me not to let him hurt her, and I guess she got to me—like she got to you.”

His words twist something inside me, but I shove the feeling down. Drawing my knife, I hold it so the blade catches the dim light. Emil’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t resist as I grab his face and force him to meet my glare.

Before I can do any damage, the door creaks open. Eva steps inside, her hand landing on my shoulder. “Let me take it from here. I’ll finish this for you. He betrayed both of us—all of us, actually.” Eva shoots him a dark look.

I’m not a coward. I don’t shirk my responsibilities. But maybe, just for today, I can let someone else carry the weight of retribution.

I pass her the knife. “An eye for an eye,” I murmur.

Her lips tighten in understanding.

Emil’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t make excuses or try to bargain. He knows he’s lost, and in some way, I can respect his acceptance.

“I’ll let you live, but you’ll never set foot in Russia again,” is the last thing I say to him.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-TWO

SOFIYA

Nikolai’s handis glued to my elbow as he helps me down the stairs, moving so slowly it feels like we’re trying to sneak past a sleeping guard.

“Careful,” he says, his brow furrowing. “Your feet?—”

“—are fine,” I interrupt. “You’re driving me insane. I can handle a few stairs on my own.”

He shoots me a look. “Maybe I should pick you up and throw you over my shoulder.”

I roll my eyes, though I’m not totally against the idea. “I think you’ve carried me around enough for one lifetime.”

“Never,” he shoots back. “I like carrying you around.”

By the time we reach the dining room, my smile is stretched wide. The room is buzzing with life—Vadim chatting with Roman, Pavel smirking at something Eva’s said—and then my eyes land on my sister.

Liza stands as soon as she sees me, her chair pushed back hastily. A lump rises in my throat as she crosses the room in three quick steps and throws her arms around me.

“Sofiya,” she whispers, holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe. When she pulls back, her hands frame my face, her eyes sweeping over me like she’s memorizing every inch. “I’m so relieved you’re okay. When Roman told me what happened—” her voice breaks.

I grip her wrists gently, smiling through the tears spilling down my cheeks. “I’m okay because of everyone here. And because of you. You believed me enough to send Roman and Pavel to meet with Niko, and I’m so thankful you did.”

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