Page 51 of Savage Beauty

He sighs. “I loved her with everything I had, and the boy too. Your father was the only person who knew about their connection to me because Itrustedhim. I thought he was my friend.”

More fool him. Sergey Kislev was nobody’s friend.

“I got on the wrong side of a nasty up-and-coming mob guy and confided in Sergey. He saw his chance to make his name and went straight to the man, offering to make an example of me.” Igor’s eyes glitter in the low light, and I see he’s holding back tears. “You know the rest, don’t you?”

I shake my head slowly. Whatever Igor thinks, I still have no idea what’s happening. His brow furrows as he sees my confusion.

“Your father went out in a stolen car one night, looking for Rocco. He knew where to find him, didn’t he, Sasha? Because you told him where to look.” He swipes angrily at his damp eyes before waving the pistol again, taking a step closer as he does so. “Rocco looked up to you. Where you went, he went. Isn’t that so? You lured my son to a prearranged spot, and Sergey rolled up and blew him away. An innocent boy, dead, for nothing more than kudos and a pat on the back.”

He’s wrong.So, so wrong.

“It didn’t happen that way, Igor. Who told you this?”

“Your father told me himself when he was dying.” He closes his eyes for a second. “For so many years, I called himtovarishch—my comrade. But he laughed in my face and said he killed my son.” His face twists as ugly memories wash over him. “I didn’t know who murdered Rocco, so I had to abandon the boy’s mother. I couldn’t risk her safety. I looked in on her occasionally, but only from a distance.”

“So you know I took care of her. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Guilt.” The word drops from Igor’s lips like a dead weight. “You know what you did and think you can make up for it. You can’t, but what I have planned will go some way to even the score.”

“I feel guilt, but not for the reasons you think,” I say quickly, holding out my hands. “You want someone to blame. I see that. But I loved Rocco and hated my father. I would never have agreed to help Sergey—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Igor’s tone is ice-cold, but I hear the pain in his words. “I couldn’t hurt your father by then, and your family has always had too much power for me to tear it down. Not unless a weak link appeared.” He smiles thinly. “And that’syou, isn’t it? Just as it always was. You let some woman mess with your head, and next thing you know, you owed Tosca a debt. It didn’t take much to convince him to use that debt to ruin you and your family, not after you made a laughing stock of him.”

I’m starting to understand. Tosca thought he would get some kind of compensation—assets, money, whatever—in return for setting in motion a chain reaction that could lead to war.

I don’t need to ask who else knows about this dirty plot. It’s only Igor and me, for now, at least. The only other witness lies beside me, his corpse gurgling quietly as it bleeds out.

“So here are your choices,” Igor says. He sits on the edge of the desk, the gun resting casually on his knee. “Behind door number one is this. You can return to your brother and tell him what you’ve done. He will no doubt be willing to protect you. Still, when I disclose your crime and formally excommunicate your family from thekomissiya’sprotection, it will be open season onyou,” he jabs a finger at me, “your family, and everything you’ve built. Your former allies and rivals will distance themselves at best or team up with the law to see you all destroyed.” He shrugs. “Not great. Are you interested in hearing what’s behind door number two?”

I nod.

“Tell your brother to cede his leadership to you. He and the rest of your rotten family can keep their lives, but they have to leave the city and never return. I’ll keep a close eye on them, of course, to make sure they aren’t planning any heroics. You get to be pakhan instead, but you’ll do what I tell you to do.” He smiles. “You’ll be getting back to the nasty stuff you used to do, Sasha. Won’t that be fun?”

My pulse hammers in my ears. Vlad will never hand me and the bratva over without a fight, but the alternative is unthinkable.

“One more thing,” Igor says, a sneer curling his lips. “Your wife stays. I saw how you looked at her. I wanted to steal your empire, but I didn’t think I could break your soul, too. Not until she showed up.” He gives a bark of vicious laughter. “You’re such a fool. Put one foot wrong, and I’ll make your wife wish she’d never met you.”

I drop my head into my hands, defeated.

I never saw this coming. I made my family vulnerable, and had it just been about the Toscas, we could have dealt with it. But Igor’s hatred came from somewhere deep and poisonous, and like a cobra, he remained coiled and hidden, waiting for his chance to strike. If I don’t comply, he will see to it that I’m blamed for Sal’s death, too, and with everything that’s happened recently, that’s an easy sell.

“Go home,” Igor says, holding open the door. “You have twenty-four hours to get your act together and do what you’re told. After that, everything and everyone you love is ashes.”

35

Sasha

When I get home, it’s still early, and Josie is asleep. I lurk in the quiet spaces of the house, determined not to be alone with her until I can calm the panic running through me.

The day passes in a blur of visitors. Many people come by the house to drop off wedding gifts and give us their blessing, and Josie and I receive them gracefully. If anyone notices the absence of Sal Tosca, they don’t mention it, and I wonder about Claudia. She may be locked away somewhere in the Tosca compound, awaiting the whims of Igor.

I’m losing my mind with fear, but I can’t tell Josie what’s happening. We have a running itinerary of guests today, as is traditional, and there’s no time for revelations and recriminations. The more my wife knows, the more danger she’s in, but that’s not why I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth. It’s because I can’t bear to see the look on her face when she sees I was right all along.

I’m not the man to save her. All I wanted to do was protect her, and I couldn’t. She’ll never be safe again, and there’s no way I’m worth that.

* * *

Josie knows I’m not okay, and when the evening draws in, she quietly withdraws for a while, leaving me in the downstairs lounge. I kill time, nursing a drink and my meandering thoughts.

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