After he says that, he drives in silence. It isn't easy seeing him like this. I don't know how to help him now. I'm watching him unravel at the seams knowing it's my fault. If he had just ignored me in that hallway outside the gala, maybe none of this would've happened for either of us. Maybe I wouldn’t be pregnant with his baby.
When we pull up to a random building along a dark street, he turns to me. "Come inside with me," Kazimir says, killing the engine. "I don't want you sitting in the car alone."
"I don't think that’s a good idea," I mumble, knowing how guilty I will look. "I can wait."
"No… I need you. Please. Just go with me."
I sigh and reluctantly climb out of his car. Then we enter through the side entrance. The hallway's dark and the building feels hollow. Our footsteps are the only sound as we weave down hallways in the darkness until we emerge into a well-lit office space.
Timur is sitting behind the desk with his laptop open and three phones laid out in front of him. He looks up when we walk in and his face is drawn like he's been sick for weeks. He nods at me andthen looks at Kazimir. I see the hesitation and anger in his eyes that doesn't get expressed, and I know he doesn’t want me here. I know I should’ve stayed in the car.
"Sit down," Timur says.
Kazimir pulls a chair out and sits. I stand near the door because this isn't my meeting and I know it. It's bad enough that I'm in this building. I can't physically force myself to sit down in Timur's presence. The man may very well kill me over what I've done. I've seen men like him kill for less.
"The police had a detailed tip, Kaz." He flicks his eyes to me and then looks at his computer screen. "They knew the exact time and place, and they had a few names of fighters too… We're lucky Rostik got out fast."
"Do we know where the tip originated?" Kazimir runs a hand through his hair, and I watch his chest work as he breathes deeply, probably trying to calm himself.
"Anonymous… It came through the department's tip line about two hours before the card." Timur leans back. "We might’ve lost Arsen for good."
"And the fighters who got picked up?"
"Immigration's holding them. We'll need a lawyer, and even then it could take weeks to sort out. Most of them will be deported." Timur rubs his eyes, then his whole face. "We blew it…" He says the words quietly, like air leaving his chest deflates him and his will to live. "Ro will be crushed."
Kazimir sits shrinking, shoulders dropping, hunched over. It wraps around my heart and crushes me until tears well up and I'm forced to look away. I did all of this to him and tohis organization. The very man who helped him and practically raised him is now going to be so disappointed in him, and it's not his fault. I'm to blame, and I can't ever make it up to him.
"The community's talking," Timur continues, only confirming what Stepan said. "People who've been loyal to this family for a decade are questioning whether we can protect them anymore. Roman's name still carries respect but yours is taking damage, Kaz. People are starting to say that the operation can't function without Roman at the helm."
Kazimir nods without lifting his head. He doesn’t even argue or defend himself. It's painful to watch him wilt like a flower. This is all Bogdan's fault and I could scream it from the rooftop, but it wouldn’t matter. What's done is done. His bettors have lost faith. His fighters are being deported, and his venue is burned.
"I'll call Roman in the morning," Timur says. "He needs to know everything. The raid, the arrests, the gym, the community response. All of it."
"No, I'll make the call," Kazimir says, finally looking up. "He left me in charge. He hears it from me."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure." He stands and his posture straightens, but the effort it takes is visible. He's holding himself up through sheer willpower. "If anyone deserves the explosion that's sure to come out of him when he hears it, it's me."
Timur nods and looks at me standing by the door. His eyes hold mine for a second and there's suspicion in his eyes before he looks away and turns back to his laptop.
Kazimir takes my hand and leads me out of the office and down the hallway and through the side door to the car. He opens my door and I get in, and he goes around to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel for a full minute without starting the engine.
I reach over and put my hand on his arm, but he doesn't look at me. He stares through the windshield at the empty parking lot, and he's probably thinking he's an utter failure. He's wrong—he's not a failure. He's so perfect in my eyes, but a man's confidence is only as good as his performance, and everyone thinks he failed.
Everyone but me.
"Let's go home," I say.
He starts the engine and pulls out, and as we drive, I keep my hand resting on his arm.
I don't know how to fix what I've done. But I know I have to try something. Even if my brothers disown me. Even if they try to send me away. I have to do something to stop their stupid attacks and help Kazimir not lose everything.
I should've put my foot down a long time ago and I never did.
23
KAZIMIR
