"Easy, Mikhail. Easy."
Assessing him, I spy the gunshot wound. Mortal placement. Even a surgeon on standby couldn’t save him.
I rip off my suit jacket and ball it up, pressing it hard against the wound. It won’t save him, but it’ll buy him time to provide information to avenge him.
He screams, a gurgling sound bubbling up from his chest.
"Focus on me," I command. "Who was it?"
His eyes are rolling back.
I grab his shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Stay with me, soldier! Who?"
"Moretti..." he gasps, coughing bright red blood onto my white shirt. "Don Moretti."
"Did they drag him?" I demand, pressing on the wound. "Did he fight?"
Mikhail shakes his head weakly.
"No," he wheezes. "He... he knew them, Boss."
My blood freezes. "What do you mean?"
"I heard voices," he whispers, his grip on my arm weakening. "Before they shot me, I heard Arthur. He wasn't screaming for help."
"What did he say?"
"He called the leader by name... Don Moretti..." he gasps. "He didn't sound scared. He just said...'I'm ready.'"
"He said he was ready?" I demand.
"Yes," he breathes. His eyes roll back, fixing on the ceiling. "And then he walked away with them."
"I tried," Mikhail whispers, tears escaping. "I tried to stop them, Boss. I'm sorry."
The light is fading from his eyes.
"You did your job, Mikhail," I murmur. "You’ll die with honor."
He lets out a long breath, a rattle in his chest, and then he’s gone. His hand slips from my arm and hits the floor with a wet thud.
I stay for a moment, kneeling in his blood. Rage builds in my chest. Arthur Blackwood didn't send that message from his study.
He went with them
They took him to some hole, put a gun to his head, or worse, and forced him to give up the Founder's Key.
Midnight. North Gate. Run.
It wasn't a rescue plan. It was bait.
And Arthur, I know him. He’s a coward.
Did they promise him something? Did Don Moretti lean close and whisper that if Arthur delivered his daughter, he could have his company back? Did they offer him a way out of his debt?
He gave them the secret code that protected his company for twenty years. He unlocked the door for them. He’s willing to feed his daughter to the wolves just to see me bleed.
I stop. The realization hits me colder than the blood on my hands.
