Chapter 33
Roman
“Are you doing lawyer-y things or things that are unlawful?”
I look up from the file I was scanning to smile at Zoya. “Mind your business.”
“Rude,” she murmurs and comes in closer.
“What do you want?” She is up to something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“I want Nik dead.”
“He will be.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Are you asking me to go against my pakhan’s orders?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That I want Nik dead tomorrow.”
“You mean you want to be the one to put him in the ground?”
“Yes.”
“Are you even capable?” I don’t mean it as an insult, but she takes it as one as her eyes flash indignantly.
Her glare hits like a blade. I hold it and let it sit between us because I need the truth more than I need her temper quiet. “You think I won’t do it?”
“I think firing at a target and firing at a man are two very different beasts.” I rise and move around the desk to stand in front of her. I cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer as I gaze into her eyes. “Have you ever killed a man before, malyshka?”
Her lashes lower. “No. But I’ve never had to.”
“You don’t have to now.”
Her eyes flutter up. “Roman…”
I stroke my thumb along the line of her pulse as if I can rewrite it. “You don’t have to now because I do it for you.”
Her mouth firms. “That isn’t the point.”
“It is exactly the point,” I say softly. “You stay clean. I do the filth.”
She lifts her chin. “I’m not clean. Not after everything. And I won’t be a figurehead who lets men do ugly things in her name whilst she sips tea and wears pearls and pretends her hands aren’t red.”
There it is—the iron under silk. It cuts through my refusal and makes room for terms.
“You want him dead tomorrow,” I say. “Fine. Then hear how it happens, and hear all of it.” I lower my hand and step back a pace so she has to fill the space with her will, not my touch.
“Not on consecrated stone. I will not start a holy war because you are impatient to rid him from your life. We gut him with paper at the lectern, we move you, and then we end him on neutral ground.”
Her breath hitches. “Where?”
“The car park behind the priest’s cottage,” I answer. “Low cameras. A blind corner by the yews. If he reaches for you inside, we remove him under the excuse of peace, and I take the shot there. If not, you run, slip out from under Andrei and Katya’s watch. He follows. I shoot him between the eyes.”
“And if he gets to me first?”
“Then you will learn firsthand what impatience does.”
She chokes on her saliva. “That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. If he gets to you first, he will wish he had made better choices, but the odds will be stacked against you. Slipping your details and me, to goad him into a corner, is a dangerous move, Zoya.” I wait for it to sink in, to see if she backs out or makes a suggestion.
“Then stack the odds in my favour. Have a man or two waiting where I will lead him.”
I narrow my eyes. “He will find me.” With a fucking gun pointed at his head.
“You will leave the church?”
“I won’t be leaving you in danger. You move, slipping past Andrei and Katya. You move quickly. Quietly. Nik will follow because you will be on your own, and he will take the opportunity. I will move into position through the side door.”
“Are you sure? Your dad will hit the fucking roof.”
I keep my gaze on her, unblinking. “I’ll take the roof and the lightning. You get the end you want.”
She reaches up and cups my jaw, squeezing hard. “Thank you. I know this costs you.”
“It costs me less than having Nik slithering around, even for a few moments. The proof we have that he ordered the hit on Mikhail is enough to ensure he won’t breathe past sunset, but if you want him dead with no uncertainty before then, I will do it.”
She closes her eyes and breathes in before she releases me and exhales slowly. “If things go sideways?”
“There is a good chance. But we improvise. In reality, Andrei and Katya won’t be far behind you.”
She nods. “Will you brief them?”
“Of course. You scared?”
She snickers. “Katya is formidable.”
“She is, and that is why she is here.”
“For now.”
I frown. “Meaning?”
“Meaning box 24 was hers. I gave her the key; it has something she desperately wants.”
I weigh that carefully before answering. “You think she is going to leave?”
“I hope not, but I wouldn’t blame her if she did.”
“I will talk to them alone. You go back to your day. This will all be sorted, and by this time tomorrow, Nik will be dead.”
“Thank you, Roman, for listening to me and not trying to convince me to wait.”
I grip her hand. “Always, Zoya.” I bring her knuckles to my mouth and press a kiss there to seal it, then let go before I change my mind about every risk I just agreed to.
I call Andrei and Katya in as soon as Zoya leaves. The office door shuts with a quiet click that feels like a seal.
“She wants him dead tomorrow,” I say. “We make it happen.”
Andrei doesn’t blink. “Parameters?”
“Not in the nave. She reads. We move. If Nik reaches for her inside, I break him without a shot and take him out a side door. If he holds his nerve, she slips the cordon and leads him to the priest’s cottage car park. I end it there. One round. Clean.”
Katya folds her arms. “Consecrated stone stays clean. Good.”
“You’re her flanks. You cut anyone who inserts themselves between you and the sacristy.”
“Understood,” Andrei says. “Entry points are the porch, side nave, sacristy door.”
“Bell rope stairs are covered. Petr owns the bell tower. He won’t miss a twitch. Residential roof is ours.”
Katya’s gaze cuts to me. “And if he drags men with him when she slips?”
“I’m faster.” I dare her to challenge that. She doesn’t.
A flicker crosses Katya’s face. Pride, laced with calculation. “She asked me for fire.”
“She’ll get it. Box twenty-four?” I ask, mild as poison.
Her chin tips a fraction. “Buried until after.”
“Good,” I say. “Because if you disappear before we’re done, I take that as a personal insult to the Voronov name.”
“Get off your soapbox, durak. I am not leaving her.”
My glare intensifies as she insults me, but I let it go. Idiot, indeed.
Andrei’s mouth twitches like he wants to smirk and chooses life instead.
I dismiss them with a nod, and the room exhales.
Sitting heavily back down, I consider informing Baron of the plan.
He is already up in arms about the mess we are going to make.
This will only make him dig his heels in.
We go in clear and call it a tactical decision to keep Zoya alive.
Not a single man will question it, unless they see Zoya slipping her leash.
With a feeling of grimness that settles heavily in my gut, I improvise.
Picking up the phone, I dial a number I have never had need for and yet had anyway.
It rings twice, and a man answers.
“Who is this?”
“Roman Voronov. Are you alone?”
A pause. “For now. What do you want?”
“Your honest opinion on Nik.”
Alexey snorts hard, which pretty much gives me all I need to know, but words are better. “Little runt,” he spits out. “He has me running errands like a shestyorka.”
Ouch. But I can work with this. I take the calculated risk and shift Alexey’s allegiance over to Zoya with one sentence. “Back the rightful heir tomorrow, and you are back to second-in-command of one of the most powerful families in London.”
Silence. Then a huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “The girl? He’ll skin me.”
“He won’t get the chance.” I keep my tone bored. Men tell the truth to boredom. “Tomorrow, at the end of the eulogy, the letter comes out. The room turns. He will go after Zoya. I intend to take him out.”
“You are trusting me with this information. What makes you think I won’t go right to Nik now and tell him?”
“Men like us don’t like to be demoted, Alexey. We show our loyalty to those who give us what we want in return.”
A heavy pause.
“And you think Zoya is going to step up?”
“I know she is.”
“You have her.” It’s not a question.
“Do I have you on board with keeping Zoya alive?”
“Yes. It is what Mikhail would’ve wanted.” I hear genuine affection and grief in his tone. That tells me everything. He will go against Nik to protect Zoya at all costs. All he needed was a push.
“Then listen,” I say. “You sit in the third pew on the right with Nik’s men.
You keep your hands empty. When the letter comes out, you do nothing.
When he moves, you don’t. When he tries to gather men on the aisle, you fail to stand.
You don’t save him. You don’t slow me down. How many men can you turn by tomorrow?”
“Ha,” he laughs. “All of them.”
Noted. I’m impressed. Nik has managed to alienate an entire Bratva family in record time. “Fair enough,” I murmur. “The kill is mine. She wants to know he’s gone.”
“You have it. None of my men will pull the trigger and be labelled a Judas.”
I nod slowly. Of course they won’t. It’s a fate worse than death. “If you have lied to me today, I will cut your tongue out and shove it up your arse.”
“We want Nik gone,” he states. “You have our word.”
I end the call and sit back with an exhale. The risk paid off, but it could have easily gone the other way. Zoya has more people looking out for her now. She will be safe. That is all that matters.