25. Emil
EMIL
“It’s him.”
Those two small words are powerful enough to bring the sky down.
Anger rushes through me, tinting my vision red. I turn on my heel, ready to beeline for the front door and force Luka to eat my fist when Fia rushes down the stairs, halting me.
“Stop!” she says, her eyebrows parting in sadness. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of it?”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“Sure, I suppose you have heard enough, countless times from your friend. You should have listened to him,” she says, her gaze stapled on mine as she says the words I’ve been dreading.
“You forced me into this.” Oddly, her voice is leveled, her face neutral.
She continues staring at me, allowing those words to set, waiting for the meaning to resonate.
“How dare you steal me from my own life?”
“I didn’t have a choice, Fia.”
“Yes, you did,” she sighs, shrouded in disappointment. After searching each of my eyes, failing to find the answers on my face, she asks: “Would you have ever let me leave?”
I clench my jaw, my love for Fia burning brighter than any fire. How could I ever let her out of my sight, risking the fire from going out, when the fire is what keeps me fueled?
“No,” I answer honestly, “I can never let you out of my sight.”
“You might have to try,” she says, tipping her chin, challenging me. “After you forced me to marry you.”
“The Kuzmins were closing in. You were almost killed by one of them. Remember your vision?”
“Yes,” she says, “I remember it very clearly.”
“My Bratva refused to protect you, saying you were reckless, a liability. I stuck that ring on your finger to keep you safe. My men were obliged to protect you from that day forward, as you were classed as family. It was the only way I could save you from yourself.”
“How heroic,” Fia deadpans, staring deep into my soul, making it crack down the middle. “You’re fucking lucky I survived the hit Luka planned.”
“Luka was behind the car?”
“He staged the entire thing because I knew he was leaking information, and that I was close to telling you the truth.”
“Close?” I burst, taking a minute to pace around the kitchen, on the verge of tearing the hair from my scalp. “You’re telling me this was all fucking preventative?”
Fia stands at the bottom of the stairs, blinking at me, numb.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I knew this is how you would react,” she says, sadness pooling in her eyes as we share eye contact.
The anger burns through me like the most uncontrollable fire.
My love for Fia intensifies everything, rocking my pulse, spinning my head.
My vision distorts. I see two of everything, two staircases, two Fias, and in each reality, I disappoint both.
After repeatedly letting down the people I love, I’m left wondering if I was ever meant to love in the first place.
I shove a pin in those thoughts for the time being, focusing on more pressing topics.
“Where the fuck is Luka going now?”
Fia shrugs, leaning into the staircase.
Bylat, that bastard will be in for a real treat when I run him over in my car, leaving his dead body to perish in the middle of the forest.
I grab Fia’s attention, staring her dead in the eye. “I need to handle this right now.”
“Sure,” she says, her voice small. “I understand.”
Of course, she fucking does. Having the house to herself means she can chance an escape, and this one might be her riskiest yet, with everything out in the open.
“I’m not sure you do, Fia. You’re pregnant with our children and Seattle is riddled with Alexander’s men at the moment. I really need you to stay here.”
Pain flashes across her face, a tear wanting to fall. She bats her lashes, preventing the tear from escaping…
Refusing to show weakness in the face of power.
I slip my phone, making some calls to my men. I need a team guarding the premises until I return. They need to watch Fia, make sure she stays here.
Fia watches me make the calls, pity written across her face. “I feel sorry for you,” she says. “I feel sorry for both of us.” She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes welling with tears. “Two broken pieces don’t make a whole. When will we learn?”
Fia seeing herself as broken hurts my heart in many different places. But I am the fucked up one, taking after my father.
I rake a hand through my hair. I can drown in my misery later when Luka is dealt with. His betrayal should cut deep, considering we’ve been friends for decades and I always trusted him with my life, but my love for Fia cuts deeper than the hatred I hold toward Luka.
“We can discuss things later when Alexander and Luka have been taken down. But for the time being, I need you here. My guards will keep you safe.”
I stride across the kitchen, unsheathing my knife, rinsing it under the faucet to scrub off the dried blood. Securing it back under my belt, I head upstairs, opening the cabinet to select my most powerful gun. Chambering a round of bullets into the ammunition, I sense Fia watching from behind.
I turn over my shoulder, her eyes still fixated on the gun. She stares at the weapon vacantly, like she’s experiencing another flashback.
“Why couldn’t you tell me the truth before?”
“Because I knew you would run far away, perhaps even out of state, where my enemies would still find you, since they appear to have eyes and ears fucking everywhere,” I say. “But above all else, I was selfish and couldn’t stomach the thought of living my life without you,” I say, clenching my jaw.
The pained look on Fia’s face suggests I’m only making things worse, so I shut up, secure the catch and tuck the gun into my pocket, ready to make Alexander and Luka pay.
Even if I pay with my life, it will be worth it to see Fia live in a world where she can finally be freed from the shackles of the Bratva, and me.
“This ends before sunrise.”
“And what if I never see you again?”
“Then you get your freedom back,” I say.