Page 151 of Filthy Lies

I take it and let him pull me to my feet. His touch anchors me even as his eyes remain distant, haunted.

“He shouldn’t have done it,” Vince says. “It should have been me.”

“Then you’d be the one in that bed,” I counter, “andI’dbe the one planning a murder.”

His exhale is sharp, almost a laugh but not quite. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “That’s the whole problem.”

We move toward the small alcove with buzzing vending machines providing white noise so no one can overhear us.

“I’m going to kill him, Rowan.” Vince rubs at his temples. “I’m going to put my father in the ground for what he’s done.”

I cup his cheek. “I know. But the question isn’t whether Andrei deserves to die. It’s whether killing him now serves our larger goals or just your need for vengeance.”

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is between surviving this or not.” I grip his wrist, forcing him to feel my words through skin-to-skin contact. “The FBI ultimatum expires today. If you go after Andrei now, Carver’s lifeline goes up in smoke.”

“What would you have me do?” His teeth gleam sharp and white in the fluorescent lights. “Let him get away with this? I won’t let him think he can put a bullet in my best friend and live to gloat about it.”

“I’d have you be smarter than him.” My nails dig into his flesh. “Andrei knows you, knows exactly how you’ll react. He’s counting on that rage. He’s counting on you charging straight into his trap.”

Vince pulls away. “You don’t understand what this means. If I don’t respond—immediately, violently—I look weak. And weakness gets you killed faster than anything.”

“Then respond,” I agree. “But not in the way he expects. Not in the way he’s prepared for.”

Vince pauses, something flickering in his gaze. Interest. Consideration. “What did you have in mind?”

“Carver first,” I state firmly. “We deal with the FBI threat, secure immunity, then we dismantle your father piece by piece. Not through brute force, but by stripping away everything he values.”

“His money. His power. His respect.” Vince taps his chin as he thinks. “Make him watch as everything he’s built crumbles around him.”

“A slow death,” I agree. “More painful than a bullet could ever be.”

We stand facing each other in the sterile hospital alcove. Quiet. Not quite together but not quite apart, either.

“I still want to kill him,” Vince admits after a while. “I can feel it burning inside me, this need to watch him bleed out slowly while I explain exactly why he’s dying.”

“I know,” I say simply. “And someday, you will. But not today. Not yet.”

He looks back toward the ICU where Arkady fights for his life. “I need to be here when he wakes up.”

“I know.”

His eyes finally meet mine without walls, without pretense. “When this is over… when my father is dealt with, when the FBI is off our backs… what then? For us?”

That’s the million-dollar question. I think of Sofiya, sleeping safely under heavy guard at our compound. I think of the future I once imagined for us, before blood and betrayal tainted everything.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But I’m willing to find out if you are.”

“Are you sure?”

I tilt my head and smile sadly at him. “I came back, didn’t I?” I whisper. “Despite knowing exactly what you are. What does that tell you?”

He nods and pulls me close to him by my hips. “Yeah,” he whispers back. “I love you, too.”

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