Page 161 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

There was a time I would’ve known how to silence this kind of helplessness. Heroin first. Vodka when heroin became too honest. Anything that turned grief into distance so distance could be mistaken for control.

The bar cabinet waits against the far wall, glass and dark wood and expensive bottles I keep for other people.

I open it. Then I close it again.

My hand stays on the brass pull for another second before I let go.

No.

I cross to the sideboard, pour water instead, and drink half of it in one go. Then I answer Yuri’s call.

“Tell me.”

37

HE STILL THINKS WE NEED HIM. (ALEKSANDER)

“How much time did he just cost us?”

“Hours,” Yuri says. “Not days.”

Outside this room, two women are trying to survive the truth. Down the hall, the boy sleeps because he is eight and exhausted and none of this should belong to him.

I cannot fix that.

So I focus on the part I can ruin.

“Put Mikhail on.”

A click, then my brother’s voice comes through, dry and immediate. “Before you ask, the hallway is secure.”

“Good.”

“Devastatingly secure, actually. Your domestic life is terrible for my free time.”

“Stay where you are.”

“That was my plan before the warmth of your appreciation overwhelmed me.”

“The school route is burned,” Yuri says, cutting through Mikhail’s nonsense. “The administrator locked the pickup authorization file after the incident. No changes go through without direct confirmation from Anna Morozov, either in person or through a verified callback.”

“Our team?” I ask.

“Already at her parents’ building.”

“Keep them there. Anna is calling them tonight. No contact unless someone approaches their door.”

“Understood.”

I cross to the windows. Manhattan glitters below, indifferent and expensive. In the glass, I see my own reflection: shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled, phone in my hand.

“He’s reaching for the familiar routes,” Yuri says.

“Then we make them useless.”

“I’ll put Igor through.”

“Yakov and Nikolai too.”