What if Rurik found out she was talking to him? He’d hurt her? Would he kill her?
Levka snapped open his desk drawer and pulled out a 9 mm silver glock. He checked it for bullets before snapping the magazine back into the hilt. What was he planning to do? It didn’t matter that he couldn’t drive to her estate and walk into her house. He had to fucking try. But that was suicide, wasn’t it?
It doesn’t fucking matter if I die.
Levka ran out of the office and to his car. If he had any power, he could call a bunch of people to help him, but he lost it all. Yakov had destroyed every connection. Little crappy gangs took over the streets. There was no family. No pack. Just stupid sheep congregating together to bully and kill. Levka had been more focused on money than he was about strength, but now it was here, telling him he needed to do more. All the effort to get where he was wasn’t enough when he had no strength to protect it.
It was a lesson his father had tried to tell him, but he had ignored it.
Levka slammed a hand on the steering wheel, cursing as he pressed hard on the gas. Every minute that passed was another defeat. He was two hours away from her. There would be nothing left by the time he got there. It was pointless.
Levka pulled over on the side of the bridge. He could hear the rushing water. It was a whisper, a promise of a quick, painless death. Everything could end right now, and he’d never have to worry about all the bullshit. It would just be gone.
Levka clenched the phone in his hand. He was waiting for her to call. He’d give her an hour. If she was alive and unharmed, she’d call him because she’d know what the silence was doing to him. But if she didn’t, then she was dead, and he’d be quick to join her.
Levka got out of the car and paced along the side of the road. Cars were going by, honking at him, curious as to what made him stop. Not many people used this main bridge to off themselves because it wasn’t high enough to die on impact. There would be a chance he’d survive. He leaned over the edge, imagining what it would be like. Should he use the gun instead? He didn’t want any chance of survival.
The phone rang, and Levka stared at it. It was her name. But it could be Rurik. He could be standing over her blood-covered body, listening to the last sounds of her breath, as he held the phone above him, allowing Levka to witness her death.
Levka flicked it on.
Luerna stared back at him with a soft reassuring smile.
His knees weakened, and they hit the floor hard. He rested his head against the car.
“I’m okay. I’m sorry.”
He clenched his eyes shut, and an incredible wave of relief left him sick. He panted to control the nausea, choking on a sob that turned into a cough. He spit on the ground. Levka inspecte, to assure himself she wasn’t harmed before he shut his eyes again, concentrating on fighting off the hole in his stomach where the dread had eaten away the lining.
Levka shifted, sitting with his back against the car and the phone in front of him. He stared at the sky, despising God for playing with his head in such a way. He had never contemplated death before, but if Luerna had left this world, nothing was worth it. He hated how much power she had over him. She had what no one should have.
“I can’t do this.” He shook his head. “I can’t do this.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think he would come back. It won’t happen again.”
Levka brought his gaze down to her. “This isn’t going to work. I thought I could be in your life, and it would be better than being without you, but it’s worse.”
Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to suppress them. “Don’t–don’t say that. I like talking to you. I need it. Every day, I look forward to seeing your face.”
Levka squeezed a fist against his head. He didn’t want to hear it. It would kill his resolve.
“You’re the only good thing in my life, Levka.” Luerna searched his face, but he wasn’t looking at her. For the first time, he didn’t seem to want to. She rolled off the bed, searching for her shoes. “Where are you? I’m coming.”
“No,” he fought. “He’ll know.”
“I don’t care.”
“I can’t protect you, Luerna,” he admitted, hating himself more than he’s hated anything. He swung his arm, slamming his fist into the side of his door. “I can’t fucking protect you. Not yet. Not now.”
But it’s gonna change.
He realized what he’s got to do. It’s not just money, stability, or keeping his dad comfortable in luxury. It was about taking Luerna and her children from Rurik and surviving the aftermath. But that would require more of his attention. Being distracted, waiting for nine o’clock every day took more than he realized. If he was going to raise his family back to the top, one hundred percent of his attention needed to be on the goal.
“You don’t have to protect me. We’re not doing anything wrong,” Luerna whispered. “We’re friends.”
“You know I want more than that.”
“I know. But I can’t give you anything, Levka. I mean, I’m ten years older than you. I have four kids. My family is one of the most powerful families in Russia. There’s no just leaving. So please, be my friend. I want to talk to you every day. I want to hear your voice. It’s better than nothing.”
