43. Katerina
CHAPTER 43
Katerina
Crap.
Crap. Crap. CRAP!
The single word is on repeat inside my head at the sight of the sovietnik inside the elevator.
I back up several steps, but I’m only kidding myself. I’ve been caught red-handed. If the sovietnik’s seen me, then that means his men are in the area. It means they’ve had eyes on me probably from the moment I breeched the property.
I’m screwed.
I half-turn to run off but he repeats exactly what I’m thinking.
“I would not bother if I were you, devochka,” he wheezes. He points toward a button on the side of his golden cane. “I push this, you are ambushed by an entire group of security guards. How long do you believe it will take them to make it to you? I give you five seconds.”
He’s probably right. It’s a miracle I was able to make it inside the hotel the way I have. But it’s swarming with not only the Midnight Society’s security, it’s full of the bratva that the pakhan and sovietnik must have brought with them.
There’s another option.
I’m armed. We’re alone… at least for the next few seconds. He’s a feeble old man that I could probably handle on my own…
I reach for the Glock strapped to the side of my hip and pull it on him. I’ve never shot a gun before, but I’ve watched plenty of others throughout the years I’ve been in criminal circles. I loaded it myself and made sure the safety was off.
The sovietnik is unfazed being on the wrong end of my gun. He blinks at me dryly and then spits, “Ty glupaya devochka.”
It takes me a second to piece together what he’s said using the limited Russian I’ve learned.
“You stupid girl?” I repeat slowly.
“So you have been learning.”
The nod of approval he gives confuses me even more. He beckons at me with the liver-spotted hand that’s not clutching onto his gold-encrusted cane for support.
“Get on,” he says. “We have places to be.”
I take another cautious step back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Oh? Then where were you headed, girl? Upstairs to the party? An army of one woman? How will that play out for you?”
Not great.
I’ve already visualized all the ways this could go wrong.
Killed on the spot. Taken and put back up for sale at the marketplace. Tortured and violated. The list of grim possibilities seems endless.
But what other choice do I have?
I can’t get on the damn elevator with the sovietnik. He’s Roman’s father and has been despicable enough to go against his own son in war.
…or has he?
Once again, the feeble older man seems to follow the train of my thoughts. He coughs out a laugh like he finds it funny. “There is so much happening. So much that you do not begin to understand. If you are smart, you will come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you! Go ahead and press the button. Call your backup. I’ll blast you right now. You’ll be dead before they get here.”
“No wonder he likes you. I see it now. Come.”
My arms dip slightly, no longer holding the Glock so high. Uncertainty flits across my face the same way it twinges my insides.
He’s… serious? He expects me to go with him?
When I take too long responding to his request, he makes an impatient, throaty sound and shakes his head.
“You want to kill him, da? You want to help Zver? Come with me. We will do it.”
“But you and the pakhan?—”
“It is not as you think,” he interrupts. “Come or you will lose. And so will Zver.”
I’ve spent my whole life on the streets being on guard about who I can and can’t trust. Most people usually fell into the latter category. They couldn’t be trusted even for a second, always looking to take, take, take.
A select few people like Rosita and JC (back when I thought he was my friend) were worth trusting.
I never thought there would come a moment where Roman’s father would be one of those people. Seconds go by and I’m peering at the same sapphire-blue eyes that belong to his son, realizing that he’s telling the truth.
This isn’t an attempt to hurt me. This isn’t some scam he’s pulling.
He really intends on helping in some way.
I holster my Glock, the expression on my face hardening. “If you try something, anything, I will shank you.”
He smirks. “Typically, when you are going to stab someone, you do not give them forewarning. You just do it.”
I step onto the elevator, resisting the urge to indulge in any banter or pleasant talk. This man has never loved his son the way he should’ve. He’s never been a real father to Roman, and up until a few minutes ago, seemed to be backing the man trying to destroy his son.
I may be trusting him in this moment, but there are no warm feelings between us, and there never will be.
The elevator doors close and we ride in silence up two more floors. When we arrive and the doors glide apart again, he gestures for me to go first. I remain where I am, my left brow arched. He takes the hint and steps out in front of me.
“You have had it wrong all this time,” he wheezes. “Both of you. You have believed that I am in an alliance with the pakhan. But that is not true. It has never been true.”
“You backed Leonid. You sided with him against Roman.”
“Leonid was my brother. Roman is my son. I wanted for them to set their differences aside?—”
“When Roman came to you, you refused to tell him what you knew.”
“And what do you know, devochka?” he asks. “Some girl like you who was never meant to be here. You know nothing.”
“I know the man who calls himself Roman’s father should’ve done more to help his son!”
He holds out his arm to stop me midway down the hall. He’s pausing long enough to listen. The Midnight Society festivities are going on downstairs on the second floor, some of the sounds making their way up to the third.
When no other noises stand out to him and he deems it safe to proceed, he hobbles forward on his cane. I’m half a pace behind him, my insides twisted into too many knots to count.
“I do not owe you explanations for how I have treated my son,” he says plainly. “You will never understand our world or the family. Insolence is not rewarded. Neither are sons coddled or treated as fragile. But rest assured, if I truly wanted to damage my son, I would have. The divide in our family is very much real. The pakhan seeks to make it that way.”
“He’s been pushing for it,” I mutter. “He intentionally created division?”
“I am old. My time is over. But my son? Vladimir knew that was a different story.”
We’ve reached the end of the hall, where he produces a key and uses it to unlock a door. We enter what’s some kind of parlor with cushiony chairs and a minibar.
“This is where the pakhan stays when he is at this hotel,” he explains. “This is where he will be returning if you want your revenge. I will be downstairs with him.”
I watch him with narrowed eyes. “If you’re not on his side, then why would you be?”
A wrinkle deepens at the corner of his mouth. His smirk has returned. “Because I am going to prove to him that I was a threat too.”
He turns to walk out of the room, leaving me in stunned silence and a dozen questions on the tip of my tongue.
It’s not for another hour that the explosion of gunfire comes from the floor below. I’ve waited in the parlor from the moment the sovietnik walked out, using the time to mull over what I wanted to do and if I should wait around for the pakhan to show up.
What if Roman’s father was lying to me? What if this is a trap and he went downstairs to tell the pakhan I would be up here?
“Does it make a difference?” I whisper to myself, pacing back and forth. “He walks in. You shoot him. You end this.”
But what if the sovietnik was going to do it first? He’d sounded so vindictive when he walked out on the promise he would show the pakhan he was a threat too.
As shots ring out on the floor below, I wonder if the sovietnik started the fight or if it’s Roman and his men attacking the hotel.
It’s only a few more moments before I have my answer. Footsteps pound down the hall, headed straight for this room.
I stand tall with a hand hovering over my hip to draw either of my weapons. The Glock or the pocketknife I have tucked away.
The door flings open and in dashes the pakhan with two of his soldiers. He’s heaving deep breaths like he’s been running through the hotel. A thin trail of blood trickles from his ear; he’s been grazed by the bullets in the air.
It takes him and his men a second to realize I’m in the room with them. The pakhan orders his men to stand by the door and await Zver’s arrival.
Roman.
He’s on his way.
Of course he would be. He wouldn’t stop tonight until he got the pakhan himself. And even though that was my mission too, pride beats through me at the thought that Roman is so close.
But it also means that the sovietnik must’ve failed. If the pakhan is still alive, then whatever Roman’s father had planned didn’t succeed.
The pakhan wipes at his ear with the sleeve of his suit jacket and then stops when he spots me at the back of the room near the window.
He’s not bad on the eyes. He’s a man of average height and build with a touch of gray in his otherwise dark hair. He must be in his late forties or early fifties, his complexion an alabaster hue that’s even lighter than Roman’s. His sharp features seem to hold some level of tension no matter the situation, like he’s permanently on guard.
Now is no different as he smiles at me and then says, “Privet, Katerina. I had hoped you would be here tonight.”
I make a decision on the spot. I could draw my gun and point it at him. I could fire and hopefully land my shot.
…or I could take an even more unexpected chance.
Roman will be here any second. I can last a few seconds. I can use the inevitable to our advantage.
Something the pakhan won’t expect.
“Did you think I would break?” I ask him, my voice calm. “Did you think I was so weak that I wouldn’t?”
He chuckles. “Yes, you are so strong. Very strong. You were so impressive as you lay crying and trembling on that bed. It was quite… arousing.”
I stay strong against the heat warming up my skin. It’s a mix of anger and humiliation from how he made me feel that night.
The pakhan starts toward me. “What is the matter, Katerina?” he asks. “I thought you were so strong. Yet here you are, silent as a mouse. Perhaps that should have been your name. You are no feline.”
He’s only a few inches away when the door bangs open a second time and Roman rushes through. The pakhan immediately grabs hold of me; he’s doing exactly what JC did with Lucero.
I’m the shield. The currency he’s going to use to turn this situation in his favor.
His men spring into action first, opening fire. Bullets fly as Roman and the two remaining soldiers of the pakhan shoot at each other. Roman catches a bullet in the shoulder before taking down both men and then advancing toward me and the pakhan.
He’s fuming at the sight of us together. He’s slicked with sweat, his thick muscles gleaming, his eyes a dark and violent storm.
“Ya dolzhen byl znat’, chto ty eto sdelayesh’. Ty trus? * .”
The pakhan smirks, wrapping his arm around my hips to pull me closer. “Ya umnyy, Zver. Umneye tebya? * .”
Roman breaks out into a stride, but he cuts him off with a click of his tongue.
“Uht, uht, Zver. Stay where you are… or she will suffer the consequences.”
I’m holding Roman’s gaze, trying to keep it together. My body refuses to comply. Nerves have sprung free, racking through my body in a deep shiver.
It only makes Roman more enraged. More feral like an animal.
“Let her go,” he growls. “Get your fucking hands off her.”
“But why?” the pakhan asks, nuzzling the side of my face. “She remembers so well what it feels like for me to touch her.”
Roman howls and launches into another fast stride.
The pakhan drags me back with him several paces and points his gun at my head. “Uht, uht. Take one more step, Zver. Such a beautiful woman. Such a pity for me to kill her.”
It’s what finally makes Roman truly stop in his tracks. He’s caught between wanting to black out and go into pure beast mode and the possibility that he wouldn’t be quick enough. The pakhan will pull the trigger first.
“She was up here by herself,” the pakhan goes on with a light chuckle. “Your precious kitten wanted to get me. But as you can see, she is still just that. A harmless kitten.”
“Release her. We will handle this the two of us.”
“I am in control of the situation. You will drop your rifle and kick it away.”
Roman grits his teeth but does as he’s told. The automatic assault rifle slides across the floor in our direction.
“Good,” the pakhan says. “I knew you could obey. Your father could not tame you. But I will.”
“You are pathetic,” Roman spits. “You are no leader of men. You need to hide behind women because you’re a fucking coward. You can’t stand on your own. You don’t deserve to be pakhan. The bratva is weak because of you.”
“And yet look at me and look at you. I am winning. You are losing.” He leans closer to place a kiss on the apple of my cheek, making my insides roil in disgust. “I will make her suffer and you will have no choice but to watch. I will break you?—”
A strangled scream rips out of me as I make my move.
The move I was counting on the pakhan never expecting.
As he leans close to kiss and grope me, taunting Roman in his sick way, I use the pocketknife I’ve hidden and jam it straight into his gut.
* ? Ya dolzhen byl znat’, chto ty eto sdelayesh’. Ty trus - I should have known you would do this. You’re a coward.
* ? Ya umnyy, Zver. Umneye tebya - I’m smart, beast. Smarter than you.