I pull back enough to meet his eyes. Grey and storm-dark and absolutely serious.
"Not pay," I correct. "Burn. I want to burn them to the ground."
"Then we burn them,kotyonok. Together."
From the car, I hear Tony clear his throat. "Uh, folks? They're coming out."
We turn. Matthew and Mother emerge from the restaurant, his hand possessive on her waist. She's smiling up at him, and even from here, I can see the flush in her cheeks, the satisfied glow of a woman who just?—
I look away before I vomit.
Sergei's hand finds mine, squeezing hard enough to hurt. Anchoring me. "Remember the promise. Not yet."
"Not yet," I agree.
We watch my mother climb into Matthew's Mercedes. Watch them drive away into the Manhattan night, two killers who think they've won.
But they haven't.
Because they don't know what I know. They don't realize I've hired a PI, cracked their financial records, documented their affair. They underestimate the girl who's supposed to be controllable, manageable, weak.
And they definitely underestimate the monster she married.
I pull out the lighter one more time. The metal's still warm from my earlier burning grip. I flip it open, watching the flame catch in the darkness.
"To Dad," I whisper.
Sergei's arm wraps around my shoulders, solid and sure. "To Richard. And to making his killers pay."
The flame flickers but doesn't die.
Neither will I.
15
Sergei
“You leta man attack your wife in public, and you think that makes you father material?”
Elena’s voice cuts through my phone like a scalpel dipped in poison. I’m in my office, staring at the emergency custody motion her lawyer just emailed.
“I neutralized the threat.” My jaw locks so tight, I taste blood. “Izzy wasn’t hurt.”
“Neutralized.” She laughs, cold and sharp. “Is that what we’re calling killing a man? Very stable, Sergei. Very appropriate behavior for someone with a child.”
“How do you know?—”
“I have friends everywhere.” Smug satisfaction bleeds through her words. “Friends who tell me when my daughter’s father commits murder at a charity luncheon. The judge will be very interested to hear about your extracurricular activities.”
“That man came at Izzy with a knife?—”
“And you handled it like the violent animal you’ve always been.” Her voice drops, venomous. “I warned you. Two more incidents, Sergei. You’re done. Emergency hearing is Thursday. Bring your lawyer and your excuses. Neither will save you.”
She hangs up.
I sit frozen, the phone hot against my palm. Emergency custody hearing. Witnesses from The Plaza who saw me drag a man away. Security footage that probably caught more than I’d like. Elena’s lawyers will paint me as unstable, dangerous, unfit.
They won’t be wrong.
