“You want to save your father.”
I grip the edge of the sink. “Yes.”
“And to get into my father’s graces, we need Yvan dead.”
“Yes.”
“Zane…”
I turn, finally letting myself look at him. His face is pale, his eyes full of sorrow. What an improvement, I think—after the wedding, I didn’t think he cared at all how I truly felt. But that coarse exterior has been sanded away, and all that’s left is the real Nik. The one that’s always had my back. The one that, I think, may be beginning to fall in love with me.
“We need to stay in my father’s good graces.” His voice is full of regret. “I have to kill Yvan.”
Tears sting my eyes. It’s all I can do to keep them from falling. In my mind’s eye, I hear Maya cry out. I see her fall. I see the fear in her face as we left her to die.
“If you do what your father is asking,” I say measuredly, “you will become the next head of this syndicate.”
He lowers those beautiful, broken green eyes.
It’s a gut punch. “Your father will never accept me. And he will never forgive my father. Either way, you’re asking me to abandon him.”
“Tonight proved this is too dangerous.”
“What’stoo dangerous, Nik? Fighting to be free?” I rush to him, kneeling and looking up at him, imploring. My heart is in my throat. “Look. I said I wouldn’t try to convert you—but I don’t need to, do I? Deep down, you don’t want any of this either. And this marriage, I mean, if you can call it that—it could be real. You see that, don’t you?”
Nik’s expression is stormy, his eyes full of anguish. “It’s not that simple, Zane.”
“It can be! I left. I left successfully. We can do it again.” Tears sting my eyes, and this time I let them fall, hot streaks of salt touching my lips. “We can fight this. We can be free of this.Trulyfree. But to be free…”
“My father has to be out of the picture.” His voice is cold, the monotone of an unrelated observer.
“He doesn’t have to die.” As I say it, I realize that Maya being shot has solidified her plan in my mind. My beliefs and goals have aligned with hers. Now, with the stakes as high as they can go—life or death—all becomes clear. The costs are irreparably high. But they are worth it. Iknowthey are. “None of them have to die. Only Lebedev.”
“And who’s going to take over? If we’re running away, Zane? Hm? If Maya is…”
I press my lips together, silencing her name on my lips. I know, deep in the core of my being, that Maya is still alive. We’ve only just reconnected. Picked up the pages of our story. She can’t die. Not now—not like this.
“If she’s not dead,” Nik says measuredly, “the reality is that she can’t be trusted.”
I recoil. “She was shot,” I say, stunned. “Nik, she fell right in front of us—”
“I know.” He stands abruptly, leaving me kneeling on the floor. He paces away from me, running a hand over his face. “Zane. We have two choices, and they’re clearer than ever. Trust what we know, or take a chance on what we don’t. My father, monster that he is, is a monster we know. A monsterIknow. Killing Lebedev isn’t our way out. It’s our way in. I’ll gain enough power, enough respect, that they’ll have to do as I say. And I will protect you. You and your father. Don’t you trust that? Don’t you trust me?”
I gaze up at him, my heart breaking as I realize that somehow, Nik and I are on opposite sides of the board—and one or both of us is going to lose this game. Grief settles in my bones.
I was stupid to let myself feel anything but disdain for my old friend, for the powerful, beautiful, tortured man he’s become. My affection—my possible love—has clouded my vision. The only thing that matters is saving my father. It has to be. And if Nik goes after Lebedev for me—for us—if he dies, I will never forgive myself.
All of these lives, tied up in mine.
And do I trust Nikolai, after everything?
“I do,” I whisper, and taste the lie, and the truth, of those words. Nik takes me by the arms and gently pulls me to my feet. His face is full of hope and desperation, and I feel then how truly he means what he says. He does want to protect me—and this, despite everything, is the best way he knows how. “Nik…”
“Trust me,” he says again, more softly, his thumb trailing smoothly over my bottom lip. “Zane. I love you.”
The air leaves my lungs. I brace myself against his chest for balance, as the world seems to fracture and shift beneath my feet. We’ve been dancing around these strange, heightened emotions for weeks now. But to speak those words, to make them real, to mean them?
It changes everything.
