“I remember when I killed for the first time,” I murmur, watching the blood from her hands go down the drain.
“What?”
“I was only thirteen. My father, he was in the mafia before me. He was a hard man. Expected a lot out of me. He wanted me to be tough so he took me to this warehouse where he had a man sitting in a chair, bound by rope. My father had kidnapped him because the man had stolen from him. Around a hundred thousand dollars. A lot of money but barely anything to my wealthy father. But that didn’t matter. He was angry. He told me that people needed to learn lessons in life for the bad deeds they’ve done. And then he put a gun in my hand and told me to shoot. Kill the man.”
She goes still. I turn the faucet off and wipe her hands with a paper towel. The blood stain on her dress will be harder to explain away so I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. It hides the stain but if someone were to look hard enough, they’d find it.
“And you killed him,” she says, finally turning to face me.
“I did. I shot him without hesitation because I wanted to make my father proud.”
“Was he proud?”
I go silent for a moment, reliving that day in my head. How my father turned away from me like I hadn’t done enough. How even killing a man wasn’t enough for him.
“No,” I say gruffly. “He wasn’t proud. He still expected more from me. But from that day, I got used to darkness. And I’ve been in it ever since.”
“Is that why you took me? Because you believe in revenge? Believe in doing what’s right?”
“Yes.”
“But kidnapping someone to get revenge on someone else is not doing the right thing.”
“In the mafia world it is. I know you’ve been sheltered for some time now. You don’t know what it’s like. But that’s how this mafia world works. It’s how your brother operates.”
She shudders and wraps her arms around herself. The urge to protect her hits me. To see her safe. How ironic I feel this way for the woman I kidnapped.
“I know my brother has done bad things,” she whispers. “I haven’t seen it. But I know it.”
“Then you know what mafia men do. I’m going to deal with Jack’s body. Have one of my men take care of this. I need to get you out of the hotel now before any of my men find out about this. Let’s go.”
I place my arm around her shoulders as an excuse to pull her in closer to me. Katya feels right being in my arms like this.
I call Sam, my most discreet man, and tell him to meet me at the women’s restroom. “He’s on his way,” I say to Katya when I end the call.
“You’re really not mad at me for killing Jack?” She looks so frightened and alone and young that I feel terrible for her. I never thought this would happen.
“I’m not.” It’s the truth. I’m glad Jack is gone, even though I’m not glad Katya was the one to make it happen. She’s been through trauma in her life from her father killing her mother. I’m sure this won’t help matters. The last thing I want is for Katya to return to her room. I want her with me, out in the open.
Her expression softens. It’s the first time she’s ever looked at me this way and I can’t deny that it feels good.
A knock on the door makes Katya tense all over.
“Alek?” It’s Sam’s voice.
“I got this,” I murmur to Katya before heading over to the door. “Sam? Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
I unlock the door and motion him inside. He goes still for a moment when he sees Jack’s body. “Deal with this. Make sure no one finds out. Not just us mafia men. But everyone. No bystanders. No police.”
“How did this happen?
“I killed him,” I say. “He was getting handsy with Katya. I pushed him and he fell. It wasn’t planned.”
“Understood.”
Katya looks at me sharply, probably wondering why I lied for her. Took the fall for her. That’s what husbands do. They protect their wives and Katya is mine now. The urge to protect her is inside of me and I don’t think it’s going anywhere anytime soon.
