A fucking killer.
Careful footsteps sound behind me, like a handler approaching a rabid dog.
"Boss." Misha's voice. "You need to?—"
"Get the fuck out."
"The men are asking questions. They heard about?—"
I turn, and he stops talking. Smart. He should stop talking. He should leave before I do something we'll both regret. Or just he'll regret. I might feel fine about it.
"She ran," he says anyway, either brave or stupid. "I saw her. After you killed Fyodor, she ran.”
My hands are moving before my brain catches up. Before I can think about consequences or control or any of that shit my father drilled into me about being Pakhan.
"You saw her? And you LET her go?" Three steps and I have him. My hand is around his throat, slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack plaster. Dust rains down on us. "You watched MY woman run into the Chicago night and did NOTHING?"
He doesn't fight back. He takes it, knowing better than to make this worse.
"Cops were everywhere. Sirens. We had a body to move. I made the call."
"You made the call." I press harder, feeling his pulse hammering under my palm. "You decided—without asking me—to let her run without protection?"
"She made her choice." He forces the words out past my grip. Each one costs him. "She chose to run."
"She doesn't get to—" I can't finish. I refuse to. Saying the rest would make it real.
I release him and step back. I can't look at him anymore. The fucking pity in his eyes is too much.
"She knew what this was," I manage. "What I?—"
"Love?" Misha coughs and rubs his throat. "Is that what this is?"
I spin. "Are you questioning me?"
"I'm trying to understand." He straightens and meets my eyes. "You've started a war over?—"
The gun is in my hand before I finish thinking about it. I pointed at his head. One squeeze and this conversation ends.
"Finish that sentence. I fucking dare you."
He doesn't flinch. He just looks at me.
Silence stretches between us, settling in.
"Maybe this is better,” he says finally.
The words land quietly.
"What?"
"Maybe this is better. For everyone." His voice stays level. "The men were starting to question. To wonder if?—"
"If what?"
"If you still had your head in the game."
I should shoot him dead right now and end this before he says more shit I don't want to hear.
