Milo slams into him, rebounds, looks like he might spin away in an entirely different direction.
Alexander grabs his collar, lifts him like a ragdoll, then drives a knee into his gut. Milo folds, gasping. Alexander hauls him up, pins him against the wall with one arm across his throat.
Eddie and Robbie back away, eyes wide.
Milo chokes, grits his teeth. “You’ll never get away with this. I have connections… political, powerful. They’ll bury you. Like they should have done last time.”
Ivan laughs—cold, mirthless.
I join him, stepping closer. “Connections like… Harry Caulfield?”
Milo’s eyes flicker. Confirmation, not that I needed it.
“Tell me,” I say. “When you saylike they should have done last time… am I right in thinking that means you were involved? That you were plotting with Caulfield to kill me? That you were, in fact, responsible for my comrade’s death?”
“I… I’ll pay you,” Milo says. “A million. Please. It was just business. Nothing personal. You’ve killed people, don’t go acting all high and mighty now.”
I smile. Milo’s admission is clear as the bluest sky.
My hand dips into my jacket, fingers closing on the knife handle. Cold steel. Familiar.
“Alexander,” I say. “Take the boys outside.”
Alexander releases Milo, who slumps gasping, and herds Eddie and Robbie toward the back door. Eddie looks back once—his eyes full of fear, but trust too.
The door closes behind them.
Milo scrambles up. “Wait—please!”
I close in. My knife is out in a flash. One rapid motion across the throat.
Deep.
Precise.
Blood sprays, hot and coppery. Milo gurgles, hands clutching the wound, eyes wide in shock. He collapses to his knees, then face-first into a growing pool of crimson.
Ivan nods, watching the body twitch once, still.
“Sonofabitch,” Ivan says. “Rot in hell.”
I wipe the blade on Milo’s blazer, sheath it. Kick the body once—hard, ribs crunching.
“Fucking rat,” I say, my voice cold.
The gallery feels smaller now, the air thick with death.
Ivan glances at the door. “So… the body?”
“Alexander will clean up,” I say, reaching down for Milo’s pocket and pulling out his phone. “Thiswill come in handy.”
Ivan grunts his approval. We exit through the back, into the alley.
The Night air hits me and I take a long, deep breath. This isn’t over, but I’m a step closer. And that’s a good thing. But Caulfield will be tougher than Milo…
I motion for Alexander to head inside for clean-up duty.
The boys look okay, but only just. Eddie is pale but steady, Robbie similar, gripping his Little friend’s hand.
