Page 192 of Toxic Salvation
“Which are?”
“Listen to me. Obey me. Be compliant at all times.”
“Those are the same thing.”
“Then they should be easy to remember.” He smiles with thin, chapped lips. “Tonight, you’ll board a plane. False documents are already prepared. Once you land—far, far away from here—you’ll be taken to a house where you’ll live for the foreseeable future.”
Terror grips my chest. “And Luka?”
“If you behave and follow instructions, Luka will join you in a month.”
“What?” Yana spins to face him, her voice climbing to a harpy’s wail. “You’re sending my son to her?”
“She needs motivation to cooperate, Yana. Luka provides that motivation.”
“Fuck that! He is my son, and she doesn’t get anywhere near him!”
“You have no interest in the boy.”
“That’s not the point!” Yana’s eyes blaze with fury. “You’re shortsighted and stupid! You think that bitch is your meal ticket? You think she can save you?”
“Kovan will do anything for her,” he explains through clenched teeth. “Including handing over the Bratva, the organ operation, and anything else I demand.”
My heart pounds so hard I wonder if Luka can hear it through the wall. Maybe I can slip past them while they’re arguing. They’re so focused on their power struggle they might not notice?—
“Idiot!” Yana screams, throwing her hands up. “Don’t you get it? He thinks he loves her now, but out of sight, out of mind. Once she’s gone, he’ll just replace her with another whore! And now that he has a son of his own, why should he care about Luka?”
“You don’t know Kovan like I do. He cares for the boy. He cares for her, too.”
Yana snorts. “He’s a man. They’re not capable of loyalty.”
“Vitalii was.” Ihor’s voice turns venomous. “He remained faithful to you the entire time you were fucking me. So whipped that, even after he knew you were cheating, he chose to believe Luka washischild.”
The revelation stops me cold. Is Luka listening to this? Can he hear them destroying what’s left of his understanding of his parentage?
I edge toward the bedroom door, but Ihor’s attention snaps to me immediately.
“You want to see Luka that badly?” His smile turns vicious. “Come on, then.”
He grabs my arm and drags me into the bedroom. The sight that greets me makes my stomach plummet.
“Luka!”
My boy is tied to the bedframe with fraying rope on each wrist. His cheek is bright red—someone slapped him hard enough to leave a handprint. Tears streak down his face, but otherwise, he appears unharmed.
I rush to him and he cries out, “Mom!”
“She is not your fucking mother!” Yana follows us into the room. “Do you hear me, boy? She is nothing to you but your uncle’s slut!”
I spin around, placing myself between her and Luka. “I am the wife of thepakhan. Just like you were. Except my husband is still alive, and he’s coming for you.”
Before Ihor can stop her, Yana pulls a switchblade from inside her boot and charges.
“No!” Luka screams.
Yana lunges at me with the knife. Moving on pure instinct, I dive to the right, and the blade embeds itself in the wooden headboard with a solid thunk.
“I’m going to kill you, you bitch!” Yana yanks the knife free. Wood chips go flying. “And when I’m done with you, I’m going to gut that little runt you popped out. Then there’ll be no dispute about who inherits the Krayev Bratva.”
