Page 153 of Tempt Me (Dark Odyssey 4)

When I get him down from the platform, I hug him so hard, and fuck, I don’t care that fucking tears roll down my cheeks. I got him, and I’m happy.

What makes me happier is turning back to the platform behind me and seeing Salvatore and Claudius pointing their guns at Ilya. He’s on the ground kneeling with his hands behind his head.

Fucker. He’ll get his.

It’s over.

Chapter Forty-Five

Ava

Yuri is lying on the ground near the ivy bush.

His eyes are a cold vacant stare, a horrifying image of the dead. Bullet wounds riddle his body, and his face is as white as a sheet. Dead.

On my way up the stairs with Gabe, I saw Dmitri dead too, eyes open just like Yuri.

The same vacant stare, the same pale white of death.

They deserved it, and I’m glad they got it. Part of the wall that enclosed my soul inside me crumbled.

I’m weak from the fire, so weak I just want to lie down. But I can’t miss this.

This event of vengeance. This event that should have been my death turned into vengeance.

Most of the men are dead. It’s just a few here and there who are left.

Ilya is on his knees before Vincent.

I’m standing between two of his brothers—Gabe and Salvatore. Both protected me fiercely.

I’m standing in the gathering of the men who came to make this rescue possible, and I’m watching the moment I’ve only ever dreamed about.

My uncle brought down to justice and given a taste of his own medicine.

It’s just a taste, however, because none of this is enough to make up for what he did.

It’s something though. A massive, momentous something that I’m processing. I can’t believe it’s real.

Ilya has been brought to his knees like the dog he is.

Vincent hands Timothy to his father, who takes him away. I watch him go through the door and soothe his grandson, who’s started to cry for Vincent. It’s heartbreaking. All of it is. He should never have been dragged into this mess. I will always feel guilty for that.

My gaze returns to Vincent. He’s still holding the gun he used to shoot the tank. God… the baby nearly drowned. It was all set up to make certain he would. I was to burn to death and Timothy to drown.

I can’t conceive the evil in this mess. I can’t begin to accept that evil way of thinking. Heartless and soulless. That is what my uncle is. He and his men, from one to the next. There’s no difference. They’re all the fucking same.

As I look at him now, I know in my soul that he deserves death too.

Vincent gives Ilya a kick in his face that sends him to the ground, flat on his back, blood spurting from his nose.

“Motherfucking dog. You fucking piece of shit,” Vincent snarls and points the gun at him. He pulls the trigger back. Click-clack, that’s all I hear ring through my ears.

He’s ready to shoot him, and I watch. I watch in anticipation of the end.

Then Vincent stops mid-motion, like he just remembered something.

He turns to me.

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