Page 7 of Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet 2)

“And I thought you’d be a human being,” I snap back. “Who is your human shield?”

Fedor’s lips pull back in disgust. “Just some slut.”

There is no warmth in his eyes. No caring for the woman or the life she is carrying. There is no sign of humanity in his electric green eyes, and I feel like my brother is dead. Because the man standing in front of me is not the brother I knew.

“This isn’t you,” I say, deciding to speak my mind. “Come on, Fedor. You are better than this.”

Fedor shrugs. “Perhaps. Though, I honestly think this plan is pretty smart. Especially given my time constraints. We hit the bar last night, and I only realized afterwards that you might be a little upset about it. So, I rounded up some passersby and brought them back to the warehouse.”

Passersby. “There are more?”

“Inside,” he says with an excited nod. “About ten of them. Well, eleven if you count the baby.”

He points his gun at the woman’s stomach, and she flinches. Fedor grins even wider at her fear.

“Stop.” It’s a sharp command, and for a second, Fedor listens. His smile fades away, and his expression softens. He looks like a guilty little kid. Like the brother who drew on the walls and stuffed a whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet and cried when he was caught. For the briefest of seconds, I see the boy he once was. “You are not a monster, Fedor. Don’t become one.”

Then, his green eyes burn brighter, and his smile is back, but this time it has an edge. “I’m not a monster, brother. I’m a leader.”

As he speaks, people separate from the shadows behind him, and I recognize the dons of the Mazzeo family, Mario and his son Rio. They flank Fedor on either side, arms crossed over their chests.

They’d make a powerful picture if Mario didn’t have a large bruise under his right eye. Clearly, the old man has been beaten recently. I wonder if it was Fedor or one of his men. I wonder how many people he is threatening to maintain his power.

“Mario,” I say softly, appealing to the mercy I know he has. “This is madness. Don’t support this.”

His soft chin lifts, but his son moves to stand partially in front of him. “Don’t address my father,” Rio snaps.

Fedor’s chest inflates now that he has backup. “You are the only one unwilling to do what is necessary to take control, Viktor. Everyone else understands that sometimes people have to die. The sooner you realize that, the better chance you’ll have of saving a scrap of what you’ve built.”

“Innocent people never need to die!” I shout, hands fisted at my side. “What you did to those civilians at the bar is unconscionable.”

Mario flinches like the imagery of what happened there pains him, but Fedor laughs. “I hoped it would make an impression. My idea! Every person who spoke ill of me in that room had their tongue removed.”

My stomach turns. “You fucking psycho.”

His nostrils flare, and he readjusts the gun in his hand. I’m afraid I’ve pushed him too far and he’s going to shoot the woman just to make a point, but he doesn’t. His entire body stills.

“You’ve always thought you were better than me. You’ve always seen yourself as better than me and our father and our family. But deep down, we are the same,” he hisses. “And if you are going to win this, you are going to have to let go of this high and mighty bullshit, brother.”

There will be no talking him down from this. I see that now. It is hopeless. I have to fight if I want this to be over. But not today.

“What happens now?” I ask. “How do we walk away from this?”

“We don’t walk away. You walk away.”

“So you can shoot me in the back?” I shake my head. “Not a fucking chance.”

“You’re the one who came here with an army,” he says. Then, his mouth curls into a smirk. “You know what? Take the pregnant woman.”

He shoves the woman towards me, and she stumbles, catching herself before she falls. Then, she freezes. Like me, she is wary of Fedor’s motives.

“Consider it an act of goodwill,” he says. “I’ll let her go with you, you can feel like a happy little hero, and I won’t shoot you in the back.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Fedor shrugs. “You said it yourself, brother. I’m not a monster. I guess you’re just going to have to hope you’re right.”

I don’t believe that anymore, but Fedor is right. If I stay here, he may grow bored and decide to shoot me for fun.

I hold out a hand for the pregnant woman to take, and she looks at it with wide eyes. I know she wants to reach out, but she is too afraid to move. So, I take a careful step forward and wrap my hand around hers. Her fingers are ice-cold, but she grips my hand like her life depends on it. And right now, it does.

“Don’t forget. There are nine more innocents inside,” he says, hitching a thumb over his shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”

Slowly, we all back away. The tension in the air is thick. It feels like walking backwards through a minefield, holding my breath, waiting for the earth to explode around me.

When we finally reach the car, Fedor lifts his hand in a wave and then ducks back into the warehouse. I don’t even begin to relax until the warehouse is out of sight and we are back amongst the tall buildings of the city. But really, I won’t be fully relaxed until Fedor has been dealt with. I won’t be able to stop looking over my shoulder until my baby brother is dead.

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