“You can never replace me,” Adrik snarled, a low, dangerous sound. “Get away while you can.”
Burian’s eyes narrowed as he landed the cheap, cruel shot he’d been saving. “Are you in love with Sergei?”
The question hit Adrik right where Burian intended. Not because it was true, but because Burian wanted to reduce everything Sergei represented—friendship, truth, a different life—to something dirty and mockable. That was Viktor’s influence, that signature, cruel twisting of humanity into a weapon.
“Go fuck yourself,” Adrik snapped.
Underneath the sudden flare of hate for Burian, something ugly twisted inside him. Adrik kept walking, his knuckles white. If he stayed one second longer, he knew he’d beat the shit out of Burian. Burian could never, on any level, take his place.
Adrik reached the front door. His lungs felt tight, and his hands were shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming, terrifying certainty that once he stepped outside, everything would be irrevocably changed.
Then he heard her voice.
“Adrik, don’t go!”
He froze. He turned slowly, the dread coiling in his gut, already knowing what he would see. His mother stood in the doorway of her office, pale and trembling, half-hidden in shadow. She looked frail, almost ghostly, as though the house was actively sucking the life out of her.
“You knew what he wanted,” Adrik shouted, the accusation loud in the massive hall.
She lowered her head, her long blonde hair brushing her cheeks to hide her face. “I can’t stop him.”
“You didn’t even try, did you?” The words were laced with bitter disappointment that tasted like ash.
“I didn’t know what to say.” Tears welled up in her blue eyes. That was her signature move, the one that used to make him rush to coddle and comfort her.Not this time, Mom.
A bitter, hollow ache spread through him. She had always been passive, barely surviving in Viktor’s world. But deep down, he had foolishly hoped she would fight for him. Even once. Even now.
“Sergei is the only person who ever cared about who I could be,” Adrik stated, his voice suddenly quiet, heavy with finality. “He gave me a world that wasn’t built on fear and violence.”
“I know,” she whispered, tears tracking paths down her face. “Can’t you… just give Viktor this one thing? To keep the peace?”
“No,” Adrik said, the refusal absolute. “I won’t kneel for him. And I won’t forgive you for asking me to.”
Her face crumpled, yet Adrik’s heart remained as cold as the stone around her.
“You chose him.” He pointed at her. “You always choose him. I expect nothing more from you,” Adrik said, his eyesnarrowing as he spoke. “I’m done. Done with all the fucking damaged Marinovs.” He could have said more, but he wouldn’t disrespect his mother. His father had done enough of that when he bought her. She was a mail-order bride. Straight from Russia.
“Your father needs you. How can you leave?” she asked, then shouted behind him. “He depends on you.”
Adrik heard her, but he didn’t respond. He shoved the massive door open, stepped out into the night air, and lit a cigarette. He didn’t look back, because if he had, he knew he would have hesitated. And hesitation in Viktor’s world was just a slower way of dying.
Chapter Two
Adrik
Adrik walked around tothe front where his red sports car was parked. He paused for a second, staring back at the imposing façade of the Westhampton Beach house he’d grown up in. This place had shaped him, scarred him, and taught him how to survive. And now, it was the place he had to leave behind forever. When he got inside his car, he exchanged his rimless glasses for his sunglasses. His contact lenses were stored in his briefcase, ready for the times he was avoiding his father, who preferred glasses. Viktor believed contacts were risky during fights. Before driving off, he sent Sergei a message using one of his throwaway phones.
Adrik:Viktor put a hit out on you tonight at your apartment. Leave the country now. Don’t contact me. Stay safe!
He knew his father would discover his blatant betrayal and put a hit on him as well—a fate Adrik was sure he would eventually have faced anyway. Every breath he took was on borrowed time. No matter how far he ran, that fate stalked him, certain and inescapable. Adrik slammed his foot on the gas pedal, the car roaring as he shot toward the city. His pulse hammered in his ears, louder than the engine. He yanked at his tie, fingers clumsy, then popped open two more buttons of his shirt. The air hit his chest, a small relief against the suffocating tightness that had been building since he walked out on his father.
He’d miss Sergei most of all. The thought cut deeper than the slap Viktor had given him. Sometimes Adrik wondered if what he felt was love, though Sergei had never dared to show it. Viktor’s shadow made sure of that. As soon as Adrik got older, he knew—knew in the way Sergei looked at him when no one else was around—that the feeling was mutual. Neither of them could risk being “out.” That would’ve been a death sentence.
He swerved off the highway, pulling into a cracked lot beside a gas station. The neon lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in a sickly glow. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone and dialed Sergei’s number.
Sergei picked up on the first ring. “What the fuck is going on?” His voice was sharp, panicked.
“The boss and his goons plan to take you out tonight… at your apartment. I tried—I did what I could. He wouldn’t listen. You know how he is.”
