Her brows knit. “The first part?”
“The man who paid for your father’s business. The one who paid to watch my mother die. He’s first on my list, and tonight, he stops breathing.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And then you kill my father?”
“Yes,” I said, no tremor in my tone. “Slowly.”
She didn’t argue or try to defend him. All she said was, “Be careful.”
I should have turned and walked out, left her with the heater and the blankets and the rational distance between captive and captor. Instead, I stepped back into her space, close enough to feel her breath warm against my neck, to see the pulse kick beneath her skin.
I slid my hand to the back of her neck, thumb grazing her nape as if I couldn’t control myself. Her eyes widened as I used pressure and tilted her face up. I was leaning in closer, my mouth hovering a breath from hers now. I could have taken her right now, pressed my mouth to hers and forced her to kiss me as if she were already mine.
But I didn’t close the distance. I let her feel the choice without letting her have it. I wanted Zoya to know I could take what I wanted, and she’d give it to me because she wanted to. Not because she’d been cornered.
“Ya ne budu tebya seychas tselovat’,”I’m not going to kiss you right now,I whispered, “potomu chto ya khochu chto-to sladkoye, myagkoye i sovsem moyo, kogda ya vernus’ ves’ v krovi, kogda ya otnyal ch’yu-to zhizn’ i mne nuzhno, chtoby ty vytashchila menya iz poteri rassudka.”Because I wantsomething sweet and soft and completely mine, when I come back covered in blood, when I’ve taken someone’s life and I need you to pull me back from losing my mind.
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away or deny anything I said. Zoya said nothing. She just stared at my mouth like she wanted to force my hand and take what she wanted instead.
I took a step back before either of us went further. I left the bunker and climbed the stairs. The slaughterhouse was freezing, but something in my chest burned hot and clean. I already had the location of where that motherfucker was right now.
I stepped outside, flipped the collar of my jacket up against the cold, and saw death and blood finishing out my night.
Tonight, I would collect a debt owed to me for the last thirty-eight years.
And for the first time in my life, there was something in my life worth returning to.
Chapter 12
Dmitry
I’d waited thirty-eight years for a name.
Not Andrey’s. His time was coming, and when it did, I’d make sure he felt every second.
Tonight belonged to the man who paid to watch my mother die.
I parked well outside the perimeter and killed the engine, letting the car sit dark and silent beneath the trees. The city lights faded the farther I got from it, replaced by the hum of private power lines and the kind of quiet money demanded. The kind that pretended nothing bad ever happened here.
I finished the rest on foot.
The fence along the back slope wasn’t meant for defense. It was decorative steel meant to look intimidating without actually stopping anyone who knew what they were doing. Cameras focused on the front gate and the manicured approach meant to be seen. The rear was an afterthought.
Men like him believed danger announced itself.
I waited, counting the camera sweeps from memory, then moved when the angle rotated away. Bolt cutters bit cleanly through a rust-weakened section of fence. I slipped through,reshaped the metal behind me, and stayed low as I crossed the grass.
Inside the perimeter, I moved through blind spots I’d already mapped. The guard booth sat quiet near the front drive, glass dark, the man inside slouched forward in his chair. Late shift. Warm and distracted.
I didn’t approach from the front. I came up behind the booth, silent and invisible. The door wasn’t locked, and I reached in and wrapped my arm around his throat, pressure precise, cutting off air without crushing his windpipe. He kicked once, twice, then sagged as he lost consciousness.
I lowered him carefully and checked his pulse. It was slow and steady, which was good. Unnecessary bodies complicated things.
I stripped his keycard and radio and dragged him into the blind corner behind the booth, positioning him so passersby couldn’t see him. When I bypassed the control box inside the booth, I triggered a manual release. The iron spears slid open with a quiet mechanical hum.
He thought he could buy cameras and guards and thick doors and be untouchable. He’d spent money on fear instead of competence. Fucking piece of shit.
I didn’t go back to the car. Vehicles left trails.
