Chapter 18 Mikhail
MIKHAIL
My blood boils as I watch from the foyer as Lorenzo approaches my home, flanked by armed men who should be loyal to me. Men I’ve trusted for years.
Men I’ve paid, protected, and bled alongside.
Adrian, the bastard, was right.
It was someone close to me, and Uncle Lorenzo has been able to turn some of my men against me.
Rage and disbelief war with each other as I watch my uncle, my family, the man I considered a father figure, walk toward my estate.
“Stay behind me,” I tell Sophia, my voice low and deadly calm despite the rage building in my chest.
She doesn’t argue, and I feel her hand grip the back of my shirt as we move toward the door.
My mind races through possibilities.
How many of my men has Lorenzo turned?
How long has he been planning this?
How did I not see it?
Marco comes into the foyer, his weapon drawn.
Elena hovers near the kitchen doorway, her face pale.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem,” Marco says, his dark eyes fixed on the front entrance. “Half our security detail just walked out the gate. They’re with Lorenzo now.”
The betrayal cuts deeper than any blade.
These men ate at my table.
I attended their children’s baptisms.
And they’ve been working against me all along.
“How many do we have left?” I ask.
“Six. Maybe seven, with not enough time to call for more.” Marco’s jaw clenches. “We’re outnumbered three to one.”
The doorbell rings, the sound obscenely cheerful in the tense silence. I move to answer it, but Sophia’s hand tightens on my arm.
“Don’t,” she whispers. “It’s a trap.”
“Everything’s a trap now.” I cover her hand with mine, squeezing once before releasing her. “But I need to face him. I need to hear him say it.”
I open the door, and there stands the man who raised me after my parents died. Word of Adrian’s death at my hands travels fast, apparently. That’s the only reason I can think of for Lorenzo to come to my estate—he knows I know.
Lorenzo looks smaller than I remember, his brown and gray hair neatly combed, his blue eyes cold and calculating.
He’s wearing an expensive suit, as always, every inch the successful businessman.
He’s also pointing a gun directly at my chest.
“Hello, nephew.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “May I come in? We have so much to discuss.”
I step aside, keeping my own weapon trained on him.
His men file in behind him, fanning out across my foyer like they own the place. Maybe they think they do.
Lorenzo’s gaze sweeps the room, taking in Marco’s defensive position, Elena’s terrified face, and finally landing on Sophia.
His smile widens.
“Ah, the lovely Mrs. Artyomov. You’re even more beautiful than the photos suggested.” He tilts his head, studying her like she’s a painting he’s considering purchasing. “I can see why my nephew has become so distracted.”
“Don’t look at her.” The words come out as a growl. “Don’t even think about her.”
“Protective. How touching.” Lorenzo moves deeper into the room, his men maintaining their positions. “You’ve changed, Mikhail. The boy I raised would never have let a woman make him weak.”
“The boy you raised is dead.” I track his every movement, my finger close to the trigger. “You made sure of that when you destroyed Nicole.”
Something flickers across Lorenzo’s face. Satisfaction, maybe. Or pride in a job well done. “So you finally figured it out. I was wondering how long it would take. Though I suppose I have Miss Melinda to thank for that revelation.”
Sophia moves to stand beside me, and I want to push her back, to keep her safe behind me. But I know she won’t go. She’s proven time and again that she’s not the type to hide.
“Why?” My words are cold and cutting. “She was your niece. Your blood. How could you do that to her?”
Lorenzo’s expression hardens. “Because your father chose you over me. Because I spent my entire life in his shadow, watching him build an empire that should have been mine. When he died, I thought finally, finally I would get what I deserved. But no. He left everything to you. A boy barely out of his teens.”
“So you destroyed Nicole to punish me.” Rage makes my vision blur red at the edges. “She was sixteen years old.”
“She was leverage.” Lorenzo’s voice is matter-of-fact, like he’s discussing a business transaction.
“I needed you broken, consumed by revenge, too distracted to notice what I was doing. And it worked beautifully. While you were hunting Vincent Moretti, I was systematically dismantling your organization from the inside.”
The shipments that went missing. The deals that fell through. The men who died in what I thought were random attacks. All orchestrated by the man standing in front of me.
“Adrian was working for you,” I say.
“With me, not for me. We had a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Lorenzo moves to the bar and pours himself a drink, completely at ease despite the guns pointed at him. “He wanted revenge for his brother. I wanted your empire. Together, we’ve been quite successful.”
“Until I killed him.”
“A minor setback.” Lorenzo takes a sip of whiskey. My whiskey, in my house, like he has every right to it. “Adrian was always too emotional, too impulsive. He let his hatred for you cloud his judgment. I won’t make the same mistake.”
Sophia’s hand finds mine, her fingers threading through mine.
The touch grounds me, keeps me from launching myself at Lorenzo and tearing him apart with my bare hands.
From the corner of my vision I see Melinda easing herself down the stairs.
Sophia must notice as well because she suddenly tenses.
I squeeze her hand in warning to not let on Melinda’s there.
“You framed my father,” Sophia says, her voice steady despite the tremor I can feel running through her.
“I did.” Lorenzo’s gaze shifts to her. “Vincent was actually quite noble in the end. He tried to stop my men from raping Nicole. Even fought them, got himself badly beaten for his trouble. But that didn’t fit my needs, so I made sure all the evidence pointed to him as the ringleader.”
“You let Mikhail torture an innocent man.” Sophia’s voice rises. “You let him kill my father for something he didn’t do.”
“Innocent is a strong word. Vincent Moretti was many things, but innocent wasn’t one of them.” Lorenzo sets down his glass. “Besides, his death served a purpose. It kept Mikhail focused on revenge instead of his business. It kept him from seeing what was happening right under his nose.”
I can’t listen to this anymore. Can’t stand here while this monster casually discusses destroying my life like it’s a chess game. I raise my gun, aiming directly at his head.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
“Because you’re outnumbered and outgunned.” Lorenzo doesn’t even flinch. “Because if you pull that trigger, my men will cut you down before your body hits the floor. And then what happens to your pretty wife?”
His men shift, their weapons trained on me and Sophia. Marco tenses beside me, but I can see the calculation in his eyes. We can’t win this fight. Not here, not now.
“What do you want?” I force the words out through clenched teeth.
“I want what’s always been mine. Your territory. Your businesses. Your empire.” Lorenzo’s smile is cold. “I want you to sign everything over to me. And then I want you to disappear. Take your wife, leave the country, and never come back.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I kill everyone you care about, starting with Sophia.”
Sophia’s grip tightens, the pain the only visible sign of her fear.
This is my fault. I brought her into this world, made her a target, and now Lorenzo is using her against me just like he planned.
“You’re a coward,” I spit. “Hiding behind women and children. Using my sister’s rape to manipulate me. You’re not fit to lead anything.”
“And yet, here I am, holding all the cards.” Lorenzo chuckles in satisfaction. “You have until midnight to make your decision. Sign over everything…or watch everyone you love die. It’s really quite simple.”
He turns to leave, his men backing toward the door with their weapons still raised.
I want to stop him, want to end this now, but Sophia’s hand tightens on mine.
She’s right. If I act now, we all die.
Lorenzo pauses at the door, looking back at me with something that might be regret on anyone else.
On him, it just looks like satisfaction.
“I made you into a killer, nephew,” he says softly. “I shaped you, molded you, turned you into the perfect weapon. And now I’m going to unmake you.”