Page 88 of The Russian Retribution

Viktor stands before me on the roof’s edge, staring out at the city stretching out from the skyscraper like a sea of twinkling lights. Sirens fill the air as emergency services rush toward the scene of the gala disaster, where the fire still blazes out of control blocksaway. From this high up, it looks like someone has smudged the skyline with orange paint.

So it was him.

I almost hoped for the Cartel.

My heart throbs with each beat. So much blood. So much death.

I couldn’t prevent it. I couldn’t save anyone.

Erik is a few feet away from me, forced to his knees with several men armed with rifles standing around him. He shoots me an apologetic look, then glares across at Viktor who remains with his back to us. Cold wind drags its long fingers across the rooftop, weaving between us with enough strength that it feels like one wrong step and I’ll be whisked right up into the sky.

Someone steps up behind me, and pain explodes through my back as they drive the butt of their rifle into my kidney. “Kneel!”

I fall to my knees with a cry and a gasp as a roar of anger escapes Erik. He surges up toward me and is immediately restrained and dragged back by his guards.

“You son of a bitch!” he roars. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Enough.” Viktor turns slowly to face us. “I am sick and tired of you.”

Before I can react, before I can evenblink, Viktor raises his gun and shoots Erik right in the chest.

He collapses forward without a sound.

“NO!!” I fight to get back onto my feet under the heavy hand of my captor. “Erik! Erik! No, no,no! Erik!”

Tears well up thick and fast in my eyes and pour down my cheeks as an unbelievably sharp pain splits across my chest. It’s like my heart is trying to break free of my ribs and fly over to Erik to give him what little life I have left in me.

“Erik!”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t reply. One of the guards nudges him with their foot.

He remains motionless.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp, hyperventilating. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Viktor taps the barrel of his gun against his temple, then aims it at me. “What the hell is wrong with you, hmm?”

“You! I hate you, you hear me! I hate you. And I’m going to kill you!” I try once again to get to my feet, but as soon as I do, the guard strikes the back of my knee and brings me back down to the ground with a cry. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Oh, dear.” Viktor sighs dryly. “I almost want to see you try.”

“How could you kill him? He looked up to you like you were his own father!”

“He was like a son to me,” Viktor snarls suddenly. “Don’t speak of matters you know nothing about!”

“Who kills their own son?”

“Who kills their own father?” Viktor snaps back. “I suppose Erik would have tried had I given him the chance. You have that effect on people, Anastasia. Patricide runs in your blood, it seems. Maybe from that nasty thing between your legs corrupting my boy.”

“Corrupting?” I scoff through the tears. “You’re one to talk. You poison everything you touch. It’s a wonder someone as good and kind as him could even exist in your fumes!” I don’t hold back. There’s no point. I’m powerless and outnumbered. Erik is gone. Rocky is gone. Faina… I pray she died quickly.

There’s just me. And maybe, if I can get close enough, I can take Viktor with me.

“I did what I had to do,” Viktor grits out. “Including killing my own son. Because I understand sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?” Rolling my aching shoulders, I shrug off the touch of the guard but remain kneeling. “You mean like those children you and my father were planning on selling?”

Viktor takes a few lazy steps away from the roof’s edge. “Ah.”

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