Page 80 of Savage Reins
Lev and Vadim exchange glances but neither speaks.
"I think," Corsi says slowly, "we need to continue this conversation in my office. With security present. And probably the police."
"No police," Vadim says quickly, and he flashes his weapon.
"Then no more violence on my track." Corsi's voice is iron, but his face goes pale. "Mr. Karpin, your people leave now. Mr. Vetrov, same goes for you. Miss Petrova stays with me until we sort this out."
"The debt—" Lev starts.
"Can be discussed through proper legal channels. Not with guns and fists." Corsi steps aside, gesturing toward the door. "Everyone out. Now," he orders, and in the interest of not involving every person at this track and having hundreds of witnesses to make it an easy trial, the men stand down.
Slowly, reluctantly, the Karpins move toward the exit. Dima pauses beside me.
"This isn't finished," he says quietly.
I meet his eyes. "Yes, it is."
Vadim covers his gun and says, "The family will remember this betrayal, Renat."
"Good. Let them remember that some things are worth fighting for."
As the men file out, I go to Mira. Her face is swollen, her lip split, but she's alive. That's all that counts right now.
"Are you hurt? Really hurt?" I cup her face gently.
She shakes her head. "I'm fine," she says, but tears are welling up. "What now?"
I look toward the door where our enemies disappeared. "Now we deal with the consequences."
But I'm not afraid of what comes next. We survived this. We'll survive whatever follows.
30
MIRA
Mr. Corsi leads us back toward the stewards' office, his face grim. The walk feels eternal, every step taking us closer to whatever judgment awaits. Behind us, track security flanks the group, reminding us this situation has escalated beyond private business.
"Miss Petrova," Corsi begins as we enter the concrete building. "I need you to explain exactly what happened with those numbers."
My throat feels raw, but I force the words out. "I switched the saddle cloths before the race. Rusalka wore Thunder's Shadow's number, and he wore hers."
Corsi's pen scratches across his notepad. "Why?"
"Because our lives depended on it. She's green. I wasn't sure if she would win or not, and Thunder's Shadow was favored. I knew what the consequences would be if Rusalka lost. I couldn't take a chance." My hands shake as I speak, my face throbbing in multiple places from where Dima hit me.
"So you committed fraud to level the playing field?"
His words make the guilt I'm already feeling worse. I glance around atBatyaand Renat, but they're silent. "I had no choice. She had to win."
"Even under false pretenses?" Corsi sets down his pen, studies my swollen face. "Miss Petrova, what you've described constitutes deliberate deception of the betting public, the racing commission, and every person who wagered on this race."
My stomach drops. Prison time. Fines. The end of everything we've fought to save.
"However," Corsi continues, and hope flickers in my chest, "the horse that crossed the finish line first did so under her own power. No drugs, no mechanical aids, no interference from jockeys or trainers. She won because she was faster."
"So what does that mean?"Batyaasks from beside me. His voice holds a thread of hope.
Corsi glances toward the door where Vadim and the Karpins disappeared. "It means we have a situation that requires careful handling. The winning horse's identity was misrepresented, but the race itself was run fairly."
