And now we're all paying the price.
Hours pass. Or maybe days. Time loses meaning in a windowless cell.
No one brings food. No one brings water. Just darkness and pain and the knowledge that I've failed everyone who mattered.
I drift in and out of consciousness, fever building from the untreated gunshot wound. Memories mix with hallucinations—Georgia and Moscow blurring together. Kira's face at eighteen and twenty-four. The creek where we made love. The hallway where Roman shot me.
All of it spinning together into a nightmare I can't wake from.
Then footsteps again. Different this time. Slower. Heavier.
The door opens, and Viktor stands there.
"Viktor." I force the name out through cracked lips.
"You should have stayed dead, boy." His voice is quiet. Sad. "This didn't have to happen."
"You sold me out." It's not a question anymore. I know the truth now. "You helped Roman kidnap me."
"I did." He doesn't try to deny it. "Six years ago, Roman came to me with an offer. Good money. Better position. All I had to do was provide some information and look the other way."
"So, you did." The betrayal cuts deeper coming from him. Viktor was my father's most trusted man. Someone I grew up with.
"I did." He steps into the cell, and I notice he's not armed. "And I've regretted it every day since."
"Not enough to confess." I lean against the wall, too weak to stand. "Not enough to stop it from happening again."
"What could I do?" His laugh is bitter. "Roman owns everything now. Everyone. Cross him and you die. Simple as that."
"Then why are you here?" I ask. "To gloat? To finish what you started?"
"To tell you the truth." He pulls out a flask and takes a long drink. "Before Roman kills us both."
"Both?"
"You think I'm safe?" Viktor's smile is grim. "I'm a loose end, Maksim. I know too much. Once he's done using me, I'm dead. Just like you. Just like anyone who knows what really happened."
"Then talk." I force myself to focus through the fever. "Tell me everything."
He settles onto the floor across from me, like we're having a conversation instead of a confession.
"Roman planned it for over a year," he begins. "Your father was grooming you to take over. Everyone knew it. You werebrilliant, charismatic, progressive. Going to change how the Bratva operated."
"And Roman didn't want that."
"Roman wanted power. Pure and simple." Viktor takes another drink. "But he couldn't just kill you. Your father would never forgive that. The other families would ask questions. So, he needed you to disappear. Needed someone else to blame."
"Kira's family."
"Her father was perfect." Viktor's voice is heavy. "In debt, desperate, stupid enough to take money without asking questions. Roman paid him to provide information—said it was for security purposes, protecting you during the engagement negotiations. The old fool believed it."
"And Kira?"
"Never knew a thing." Viktor meets my eyes. "Your precious Kira never lifted a finger against you. But her father... he had debts. Gambling debts that Roman was happy to forgive in exchange for information."
The words hit like a sledgehammer.
All this time. All my rage and revenge—aimed at the wrong target.
