He smirks, gesturing to my leg. “Your other.”
With an annoyed click of my jaw, I lose that one too.
Another smirk. Another gesture. “And the knife.”
“I don’t have one.”
“You forget who trained you…syn.”
With a huff, I bend down and lift my right pant leg up, retrieving the knife in my boot and tossing it near my guns. “That’s everything.”
“I believe you. After all, you wouldn’t risk her life.” His attention shifts to Katya. “Such a damn shame how she controls you, even now. Her hold over you is much too strong, so you must choose. Vanessa ordered my death; let’s not pretend otherwise. Attack me. Be the soldier who’ll defend the Bratva against one of a few who continue to oppose Vanessa—because let me assure you, I am not the only one. Be who you should be. By going after me, she’ll die, and you’llfinallybe released from her grubby hands. Or you save her and choose love over duty. In which case, I will slip away and steal your chance at revenge.”
This is exactly the game he played with Vanessa when capturing Serafina and Zeno Mancini and forcing her to firstchoose between them, to pick between her love for Zeno and the Bratva’s leadership. Now, he assumes having Katya here will cause me to falter; to go after him rather than save her.
It’s always been about choices with him, which is ironic since he’snevergiven me a choice in my life. Ten years ago, he gave Katya a choice too: money or me.
He’s a gambler, playing with people’s emotions for one another. House always wins, though, and in this case, the house is the Bratva. No matter the choice, the ending will unfold the same way. I’ll ensure it does.
For now, Katya is my choice of cards. She willalwayscome above everything else.
“Choose wisely, Dimitri.”
I move. My father turns away, heading for the back door, leaving the ultimate choice with me. The soldier releases Katya and yanks away the chair in a quick swipe before following Ivan out.
No!
I’m by her side before the rope has a chance to drop taut, arms catching around her knees. My knife is at least twelve feet away, leaving me with no choice but to hope this aged building is as fragile as it seems.
I reach above Katya’s head and loop the rope around my fist before hauling down, using every pound of my weight. The ceiling bars give way, cracking and releasing the rope.
Before metal shards land on us, I scoop her up and carry her towards my weapons, depositing her on the dirty, stained, black-and-white tiled flooring. With my knife, I slice through the rope around her neck, cursing at the red lines there. After a check of her pulse, I confirm Ivan didn’t lie about one thing, at least.
My hands can’t stop touching her. Her arms, her face. Those blasted arms she insists on scratching until she bleeds. How many times have I wanted to burst into her life, all to end theself-harm she inflicts on herself. To erase the memories of those assholes who cause her to linger in the past.
She feels fucking amazing, but I’m also checking for injuries. Other than the red on her neck, she seems okay, and I breathe for the first time since seeing her strung up.
She’s okay. She’s safe.
But no matter how many times I repeat it, it doesn’t feel real.
She’s okay. She’s safe. She’s drugged.
It’s the last fact, that she’s unlikely to wake anytime soon, that allows me to drag her onto my lap again, keeping her as physically close as possible. Her heart beats steadily against my chest, and I focus on the rhythm, matching my own breaths to them.
“I’m so fucking sorry,moya dusha. Yet again, you’ve been hurt because of me. Nothing I do will ever be enough. It’s one more crime he’ll pay for, I promise.”
If I were smart, I’d leave Katya here to chase after him before he gets too far. She can wake alone, disoriented but safe, and walk home.
But now that she’s in my arms again… I can’t let her go. My father has now used her twice against me. There canneverbe a third instance.
She must be safe.
When she wakes, I need to be by her side. She’ll inevitably hate me when she realizes I’ve been the monster beneath her bed this entire time. But she’ll eventually see this is for the best. He tricked me once to get away from her. What’s to say he won’t again if given the chance? No matter how well I can predict, he’ll be one step ahead. I can’t both stalk her, leaving her to live her life, and hunt him. Something will slip—again.
I won’t be abandoning her. Not now…not ever again. Agreements and wishes be damned, historycannotrepeat itself.
Repositioning her, I reach into my pocket for my phone, tapping Vanessa’s name.