Chapter 16
Ivan
I sleep until late evening, wrapped around her, more exhausted than anything our world could ever accomplish. My arms tighten around her as I wake, squeezing her gently, and I kiss her cheek before slipping out of bed. She stirs but doesn't wake.
I am naked, and the air conditioning is cranked higher than I'm used to. The chill makes my skin tighten, goose pimples forming across my arms and legs. Grabbing my robe from the chair and wrapping it around myself, I savor the warmth and this small moment of peace.
I’m not running anywhere. Not hunting anyone. My wife is safe and here with me.
Then I sigh and reach for the new phone that I had delivered to my room earlier and send a text to one of my men.
More people made it out of the house than I expected. They scattered and waited for my commands, hiding out in dive bars or any motel that would give them a bed. Once they heard someone was going around lighting up safe houses, they sought refuge wherever they could.
Now, I have a good group of people around me again. They're so grateful for any kind of leadership, for someone to fight to restore the life they knew, that none of them balked at the mundane task of fetching clothing for Vivi and me.
A knock at the door signals that my text message was received and obeyed. I can't help but think Nikolai could have learned a thing or two from this. It would have saved us so much trouble.
I open the door to find one of my men holding several bags. "Good job," I say, taking the bags from him. "Prepare Angel to receive me."
He nods and hurries off, and I start getting dressed. My shoulder still burns, and I put fresh dressing on it before pulling on a white shirt. The black slacks fit as well as my normal tailored-made ones. When I’ve pulled my socks and shoes on, I pull the black suit jacket off the hanger and glance at Vivi. She’s still sleeping peacefully, and protectiveness surges. She needs this rest.
Once dressed, I grab the second bag and step out into the hallway before heading to the room next door and Angel. If he’s upset about being returned to his former status, he doesn't show it. When I enter, he's at the window, staring down at the streets far below.
“Go stay outside the door to my room. Vivi is still asleep,” I tell the man sitting with Angel.
"They are there now, you know. Watching," Angel says, his voice calm, almost nonchalant.
I don’t need him to clarify. The scene we caused at the restaurant would only further justify Azrael’s need to regain control over the Five Families. It made the news. Our world was supposed to remain secret.
The newscasters did their job, likely thanks to Luca Marzano and his connections to law enforcement. A personal disagreement gone wrong. Only a ninety-second story before they moved on to something else. But the Commission was watching. They wouldn’t be happy to see the blurred images of me chasing Nikolai away from the restaurant.
There were no reports on Nikolai’s body. Someone covered that up.
I walk deeper into the room and drop a bag on a side table. Angel turns away from the window, and there it is—that smirk. Such a punchable face.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself before I speak. "I need to know everything you know about Azrael."
Angel's smirk fades slightly, replaced by a curious tilt of his head. "Did you tell her yet?"
I shake my head. "No."
"You should do so soon," he replies, his tone almost gentle. "We don’t have much time left. Well, I don’t have much time left, I suppose." He pauses, his eyes locking onto mine. "Tell me, how are you going to explain to my sister that, after everything, you have been instructed to kill me?"
The weight of his words hits me hard. Angel had promised to bring the other families to the table and to make whatever arrangement possible for Nikolai to feel safe enough to meet with them. But the others still saw Angel's existence as the biggest liability. He had caused this war. He had called Azrael to clean it up.
A deal was made. They would assist us in baiting Nikolai, but in return, Angel needed to be removed from the picture. It was an arrangement Angel had made without my advice or knowledge.
Not even Lulu knew, with her vital part in the ruse. It would have been difficult, asking her to trade one sibling for the other.
"There are clothes here for you to change into," I say, picking the bag back up and tossing it onto the bed.
Angel glances at the bag, then back at me with a raised eyebrow. "A bit of a waste of money, wouldn’t you say?"
I sigh, frustration bubbling up. "You should have let me handle everything. I could have made another deal."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Aw, Romanov. Have you grown soft for me?"
"No," I snap. "You irritate the fuck out of me, but my wife loves you. Hurting you hurts her."
Angel’s smirk falters for a moment, replaced by a rare, genuine expression. "Honestly, that’s the only part I regret about dying. Hurting her and Lulu."
The sun is dipping close to the horizon, its beams catching the glass of the buildings outside the window, creating a golden glow behind Angel. It’s an uncomfortable image for a soon-to-be-dead man, a halo of light framing his silhouette.
"Tell me about Azrael," I demand, needing to shift the conversation back to something actionable.
Angel turns back to the window, the glow catching his face. In the soft light, I notice the familiarity in his profile, the part of him that looks so much like Vivi. It’s a painful reminder of the stakes involved.
"There isn’t much to tell," he says quietly. "They don’t talk directly to me."
"But you contacted them. How did you do this?" I press, stepping closer.
"That church you got married in, Our Lady of Pompeii," Angel begins. "They have a bunch of wooden boxes on one of the walls. Most of them are for donations for the various missions and charities the church supports. One has the symbol of Azrael on it. When I need to contact them, I leave a note in that box."
I stare at him, my mind racing. I was just in that church not too long ago. So close to the first clue in bringing down Azrael. I could strangle Angel for not telling me this sooner.
After all the torture, Angel never let anything slip. He’s only talking now because of Vivi.
"How often is this box checked?" I ask, needing every detail.
"I have no idea," Angel replies, frustration evident in his voice.
"So, Azrael is based in New York City?" I press further.
"I don’t know, but it would make sense," he says, turning back to the window. "The birth of our world in the United States happened here."
A knock at the door interrupts us, and one of my men pokes his head in. “Your wife is awake, boss.” Relief washes over me, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the grim reality of our situation.
Angel turns from the window, his expression serious. "I need to say goodbye this time."
"I don’t think that’s a good idea," I say, hesitation clear in my voice.
"I have to," Angel insists. "I left her once and didn’t say anything. Don’t make me do that again."
I stare at him for a moment, seeing the determination in his eyes. Finally, I nod. "All right."
“Get changed first, and I’ll wait outside for you.” I don’t like granting him this final wish. It will only upset Vivi, but never seeing her brother again will also upset her. It’s the lesser of two evils.
After a few moments, Angel appears at the door. I give him a quick nod.
“A bit short?” He shakes his feet, showing how the bottom of the pants doesn’t cover his socks completely. Despite the circumstances, I grin in reluctant response. He always finds humor in the hardest moments.
I lead Angel to the other room. When we walk in, Vivi is dressed and looking relieved to see us both. Her smile fades when she sees our expressions.
"Ivan? What’s going on?" she asks, worry creeping into her voice.
I’ve never considered myself a coward, but for the first time, I’m happy to allow someone else to deliver the bad news.
I nod at Angel and step out of the room, giving them privacy. Standing in the hallway, I hear Vivi’s cries and the sound of Angel comforting her. Each sob pierces through me, a reminder of the pain our world inflicts.
After a while, there’s a knock on the door. I open it to find Angel standing there, his face a mask of resignation.
"I’m ready," he says quietly.
One of my men hands me a bag. The group, including Vivi and Lulu, takes the elevator to the main lobby. The sisters each clutch one of Angel’s hands the entire way down. As the doors part and we step out, the lobby of the hotel bustles with activity and sparkles with luxury and beauty, kind of a surreal middle-finger flung at our turmoil.
Nothing should be this lovely on this occasion.
No one speaks, but I’m sure we appear like a funeral procession with our glum faces and the girls’ eyes swollen from crying.
Two cars wait for us, both from the garage still intact at my burned-out house. Angel and I take the first one, while Vivi rides in the second with Lulu and two of my men.
We drive across the Hudson and into New Jersey. Night envelops the city, but the lights of the buildings chase it away until we pass through. We drive until we reach a field outside of a small town.
Angel and I get out of the car and walk outside of the beams of light. We go far enough into the dark that our eyes adjust to it. Near a treeline, we stop. Angel could try to run, try to take advantage of the poor visibility to outstrip my gun, but he doesn’t. He simply stops walking and turns to me. His hands rest at his sides, and he gives a sad smile, accepting his fate. I raise my gun.
"You’re really going to let me do this," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Everything that I have done has been to protect my sisters," Angel replies, his tone calm and resigned. "Now, both of them are in the middle of a war I started. At least I know that both of them are with men who will protect them. I know enough now to see that I am not that man."
I shake my head, disbelief and frustration mingling in my chest. "After everything you have survived, this is your end? The great Angelus Valachi gunned down in a field?"
"Syphilis killed Capone. It could be worse," Angel says, a hint of dark humor in his voice.
I lower my gun and reach into my pocket, pulling out a ring of keys. I toss them to Angel. He catches them automatically, looking confused.
"You will wait until we are long gone before you do anything," I say firmly. "In the trees is a car waiting for you. I had Damon leave it. It’s a clunker, but it will get you where you need to go. There’s enough cash and clothing to take care of your needs for a bit, but you’re going to have to find a way to earn your own way in the next few months. You will leave New York City. You will stay gone. Only your sisters and I will know that you live. If you come back, I won’t be able to stop the others from killing you."
Angel stares at me, a mix of shock and gratitude in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you helped me get my wife back. And you helped Damon escape once, as well. We can consider the score even," I say simply.
I raise my gun and fire it straight into the air. The sound echoes through the night, a signal that the deed is done. "Go, Valachi. Don’t ever come back."
I turn and walk away, leaving Angel in the dark. As I make my way back to the car, I wonder if this is something that will come back to haunt me. God help whoever Angel meets in the future; he won’t be an easy opponent.