Page 93 of Twisted Fate

Kane doesn’t flinch. He looks at me, still appraising. “And Abramov?”

“Still in my sights,” I lie quickly. “But I’ll need time to reestablish trust. All he knows is that I left. He’ll think I’m a runaway wife. That I got spooked, being a Bratva heir’s bride. I’ll get back into his good graces, finish the job.”

“Hm.” Kane snorts. “And why should I believe that you won’t make the same mistake again?”

My heart thuds behind my ribs. “It was a lapse in judgment,” I say softly. “I regretted it as soon as I ran. I’m yours, Kane. Your weapon. Iwillmake this right.”

He appraises me for a long moment. I think of all the times that I thought I saw a glimmer of fatherly feeling, the times when I thought he might love me in some way, and I wonder if that was him playing a part, all along. If he ever felt anything for me, this child that he raised into a woman, into a killer, or if he’s so calculated that even that was designed purely to manipulate me into believing he might care.

Or, if his next words are because, in some corner of himself, he can’t help but have some feeling for the foster daughter that he raised since she was eight years old.

“Take out Genovese and Slakov,” he says. “Before the meeting with the Abramovs. If you can do that, Valentina, then I will consider giving you another chance with Konstantin. But—” He holds up a finger. “This is your only chance, Valentina. There won’t be another. If you fail me again?—”

He doesn’t need to finish the statement. I nod. “I understand. I’ll get it done.”

I turn to go, and Kane’s voice stops me, calling out from behind. “Valentina?”

I stop in my tracks, turning slowly. “Yes?”

“It’s not in my nature to forgive. Keep that in mind, when you make your choices, from now on.”

I nod, slowly. “Thank you,” I say softly, and I walk out of his office.

My skin is crawling as I step out into the hall, my body thrumming with the effort it took to hold back how I feel. How I want to tear him apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left of the man that I thought was the only father I had left.

I don’t sleep well that night. I’m back in my room, a room I once longed for, but nothing about it feels right anymore. I miss Konstantin next to me, the woodsy, salty, musky scent of him, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his warm, solid body in the bed. I never knew it was possible to miss someone like this, but I misshim—his voice, his laughter, his wit. I miss how he made me feel safe, even when I knew I was anything but safe for him.

He’s the only person who’s ever really seen me. Whoever knew how to give me what I needed. Who knew, in the moment when the truth came out about my family, exactly what to do for me.

Somehow, I found an equal, a partner, a man who could be the other half of me, in the most unlikely of places. And now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell him that. If we’ll ever get the chance to find out what could have been.

It doesn’t take long to collect the intel on Genovese and Slakov. I’m not one for false modesty—I’m every bit as good as Kane thinks I am, as good as he’s created me to be. My failure with Konstantin was because of how I felt for him, because of my own personal weakness, but there’s no such weakness when it comes to these other two men.

And, they tried to kill Konstantin. It adds a bit of relief to this mission. This is a kill I can feel straightforward about—no questioning, no moral compass, no doubt. After weeks of confusion and tumult with Konstantin, it feels almost like a refuge to slip back into my old skin, to carry out a hit that I don’t feel bad about.

The targets are meant to go down the same night, as close together as I can manage, to avoid the second target hearing about the death of the first. Slakov I target at a restaurant, while he’s having dinner alone on a terrace, in full view of the top of a building across from him. I have his reservation time, and I wait at the edge of the building, watching for him through my sniper lens, waiting.

Apopof a bullet, and he slumps over on his table, red spreading across the white tablecloth. I hear screams, but I’m already packing up, already moving, invisible in the darkness in my black tactical gear. I head for Genovese’s mansion next—another sniper shot, my lens searching windows until I see him in his office.

There’s a woman with him. Elia. My jaw clenches, and I make a split-second decision.

Two bullets. The first pierces the window with acrackof breaking glass, dropping Genovese where he stands. Before Elia can even react, a second bullet cracks through the window, and she drops out of view next to him.

I return to Kane, with photos of the body at the restaurant, the bullet holes in the window. “It’s done,” I tell him, still in my gear, dropping the pictures on his desk. “Abramov?”

“Not yet.” He watches me evenly, his gaze narrowed. “You did well. I’m pleased, Valentina. But I want you to wait. Don’t go near Abramov. I want to see that you can follow my instructions. That you can be patient.”

I nod, but I can feel myself tense, a reaction that I fight to hide. I’m meant to meet Konstantin tomorrow night, to go over the rest of our plan. I’d hoped that Kane would send me directly after him, as soon as the hits on Genovese and Slakov were done. Now, I’m unsure of what to do.

I’m going to have to sneak out. Come up with some other excuse as to where I’m going, say that I need time alone. To gofor a walk, get dinner, clear my head. I’m not a prisoner in this mansion, so far as I know. But that could change.

“Whatever you say,” I manage deferentially, and Kane smiles, pleased.

“Perhaps I was hasty to be so angry with you, Valentina. You made an error. But I can see you want to make it right. Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait long.” He puts the photos in a drawer, closing it firmly. “Get some rest. We’ll discuss this soon.”

I nod and turn to leave, fighting every instinct in my body to put an end to him here and now. But that’s not the plan. It would be reckless, foolish. And I haven’t survived this long to be reckless now.

Back in my room, I shower, washing off the sweat and exhaustion from the night, and slip into bed, missing Konstantin all over again. I feel like I need to see him tomorrow night for more than just planning. I need to seehim.

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