I turn away.
“Let’s burn the place,” I tell Viktor. “No evidence. No spectacle. Just another warehouse fire in a city full of them.”
We pour accelerant from a can we find on-site, light it, and walk out without looking back. Flames are already licking up the walls as we reach the car.
As we drive away, the orange glow in the rearview mirror paints the night sky. Razor’s sacrifice won’t be forgotten. His family will be taken care of. And every remaining Presko loyalist will soon learn what happens to those who touch what is mine.
I lean my head back against the seat, suddenly exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with the fight.
Because tonight I finally delivered justice for my brothers.
But the cost keeps rising.
And the boy waiting for me… brilliant, and far too good for this life… is quickly becoming the highest price of all.
Chapter 17
William
I am half-asleep on the couch, curled up with Twist tucked under my arm and a half-finished cup of chamomile tea gone cold on the coffee table.
The apartment is dark except for the soft glow of the lamp beside me. I have been trying to wait up for Kane, but exhaustion from the long day and the constant worry finally pulled me under. My phone lies silent on the cushion next to me… still no reply to any of my messages.
A sharp knock at the door jolts me awake.
My heart leaps into my throat. I know it is him before I even stand up. No one else knocks like that—firm, commanding, impossible to ignore. I pad barefoot across the floor, heart racing with a messy cocktail of relief and fear.
When I open the door, the sight of him steals the breath from my lungs.
Kane stands in the hallway looking like he has walked straight out of a nightmare. His dark suit is torn in places and covered in dried blood. Smears across his chest, splatters on his sleeves, even a streak along his jaw. His black hair is disheveled, silverstrands catching the hallway light. There are shadows under his eyes and a cut on his cheekbone that has already scabbed over.
My Daddy looks exhausted.Dangerous. Beautiful in the most terrifying way.
“Kane…” My voice cracks.
He does not speak at first. He just looks at me like I am the only real thing left in his world. I step aside without thinking.
“Come in. Please.”
Kane moves past me, his steps heavy. The metallic scent of blood follows him into my apartment. I close the door and lock it, then turn to face him. My hands are shaking.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, scanning him frantically. “Is any of that blood yours?”
“Most of it is not,” he says quietly. His voice is rough, like he has been shouting or smoking or both.
I swallow hard. “Do you… want some juice? Or water? I can?—”
A faint, tired smile tugs at his lips. “I’d prefer something stronger, little one.”
I nod quickly and hurry to the kitchen. My hands tremble as I pour him a generous glass of vodka from the bottle he left here last time.
No ice. Daddy likes it neat.
When I turn around he is leaning against the counter, watching me with those intense dark eyes.
I hand him the glass. Our fingers brush and I feel the dried blood on his skin. The reality of it hits me again: if he is covered in someone else’s blood, that means he has probably killed them.
Or helped kill them.
