75. Kaz
As I enter,the sun sets, casting long shadows around the building. The air is still and heavy, and the silence is only broken by my footsteps on the pavement. It’s an old and worn building, and the paint on the walls has faded and started to peel. It had seen better days but still stands tall and proud, like a sentinel watching over the city.
I made a tough decision, choosing to exclude Vanya from this encounter. I don’t want him in the same room as his father, not because I fear he will betray me, but because I don’t want Vanya to bear the burden of taking his life. I don’t want that guilt on his conscience. As we enter, one of Dedushka’s men pats us down, ensuring we are unarmed, before following us inside. The atmosphere shifts, a sense of foreboding taking over. Dmitri trails behind me, and I’ve asked Domenico to return for this. The living room lacks a door. I take in every detail as I peer inside. Dedushka sits on a worn couch, his bodyguard standing watch behind him. Sevastyan paces anxiously, flanked by two of his men stationed against the wall. I see no visible firearms, but that tells me nothing. Each creak of the worn floor under my steps adds to the tension in the room. Portraits of the previous tenants still hang on the walls, their stern gazes seemingly judging our presence.
Outside, the wind picks up, causing raindrops to cascade down the windows, blurring the view. The dim lighting casts a soft, eerie glow, intensifying the room’s ambiance. All eyes fixate on me as I take a step forward.
“Couldn’t you have chosen a nicer place?” I address Dedushka, disregarding my uncle for the moment.
“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” Sevastyan says, pacing.
I should ask why he did what he did, but I know it won’t change the past. My father will remain dead, and no excuse is good enough to allow this bastard to keep on living. I didn’t feel much when I went to kill Ermanno, thinking that he was my father’s killer. I want to finish all this and move on with my life. There’s something wrong with me, but I don’t have it in me to care. Too much time has passed since my father’s death, and I still want to avenge him, but it’s soul-consuming.
“You look tanned. Did you enjoy Aruba?” I smirk, clarifying that I’d known his hiding place for quite some time.
Out of respect for Dedushka, I agreed to pause the war.
“Sit down,” my grandfather commands. “Both of you. You must reach an agreement and cease these attempts to kill one another.”
Anger bubbles inside me. I fucking hate every second of this. I refuse to sit down with my father’s murderer. He’s fortunate that I’ve made it this far without putting a bullet through his head. This negotiation is futile. Sevastyan’s icy gaze reveals it. While I may be willing to bend out of respect, he is not. He won’t stop trying to come after me until I am dead. He may even target my wife, and I cannot allow that to happen.
“Let’s get this over with, Kaz. What do you want from me?”
“Other than seeing you dead? Not much,” I retort.
Sevastyan laughs.
“I know the cat’s out of the bag. Don’t you want to know why I killed your father?”
“You mean you have a better reason other than the fact that you’re a worthless piece of shit who couldn’t achieve anything on his own? Please, I’m all ears.”
The room falls deadly silent.
“Your father was an ambitious man. He wanted power and influence more than anything else. He was willing to do whatever it took to get it, even if it meant sacrificing the lives of those he cared about, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. He never listened to reason. He would have continued to harm innocent people.”
“What the hell are you talking about? That’s not who he was.”
“Of course it was, Kaz. You chose not to see it. Isn’t that right, Father?”
“Let me out of this.” Dedushka shakes his head. “I made the wrong choice all those years ago, Sevastyan. I should never have turned a blind eye to your actions.”
“I was surprised you let me live when you found out.” My uncle smirks. “After all, I killed your favorite son.”
Dedushka doesn’t reply, seeming more exhausted than ever.
“If he was truly out of control, why didn’t you tell me instead of weaving a web of lies?”
“You were obsessed with his death. I had to give you something to focus on.”
I laugh bitterly—something to focus on. I wasted years seeking revenge in the wrong place. I put my trust in him, and this is where it led me.
Dedushka rubs his face, weariness etched into every line. I wonder if he reconsiders his past choices. The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness, the only sound being the ticking of the clock suspended between two paintings. We will not come to an agreement.
“But you think I did it for power, and you’re not entirely wrong. It’s not enough, though.”
Sevastyan retrieves his gun before I can react. I anticipate the barrel being aimed at me, but it isn’t. Instead, he points it at his father and pulls the trigger. Everything happens in a blur. Before I can even blink, Dedushka lies lifeless on the couch. The tranquility is shattered by the thunderous gunshots that echo through the room. The window shatters into pieces.
Sevastyan crumples to the ground, and Dmitri strangles one of his men, the other falling from the bullet fired by Dedushka’s henchman. I’m not even surprised that he was armed. His eyes gleam with wild rage, and his face contorts with anger as he levels his gun at Dmitri.
”You son of a bitch!” he snarls.
Dmitri doesn”t even flinch, a smug smile playing on his lips. He knows he”s got him. He”s confident and relaxed, knowing that death can”t touch him now.
“We’re on the same side,” I snap. The two men hesitate, unsure if we pose a threat. I want no further bloodshed. The henchman lowers his weapon. “Leave,” I instruct Domenico. “Find out who shot Sevastyan. And you,” I gesture toward Dedushka’s men, “stay here with me.”
Dmitri and I exchange a knowing glance. We both understand that we must eliminate the man who stood guard at the entrance and allowed Sevastyan to sneak in with a gun. Whatever my uncle promised him, this outcome was not part of their plan. While he watches my back, I retrieve the discarded gun from the floor. It belonged to my uncle, the very weapon that ended my grandfather’s life—the last thing on earth I want to touch. But I have no choice. Without hesitation, I point it at the traitor in the room and pull the trigger. And to be safe, I kill Dedushka’s other man as well. I don’t care if they were in it together or not. I’ve reached my limit. Another life won’t make a difference.
I don’t care about Sevastyan, but this is not how Dedushka was supposed to die. He never even had a say in this meeting. I came here without murderous intent. My goal was to rid myself of Sevastyan’s threat. I wanted to honor my grandfather’s wishes. I should have known better. Of course, I should have. Betrayal runs deep within this family from all sides. My heart aches for my grandfather, but I haven’t had a moment in my life to break down and mourn in silence. There’s always something fucking else.
“Sir, I’ve found out who shot your uncle.”
I turn to face Domenico, who nudges my wife forward as if she had done something wrong.
“Touch her like that again, and you’ll lose your fucking arm, Domenico. Leave us,” I warn him.
I don’t break eye contact with Caelia.
She scans the room, trying to understand what happened. This is the last place where I wanted to see her. Her eyes dart around, her hair concealed beneath a hoodie that she pushes back, and she is dressed entirely in black. Her hands tremble. Despite it all, she moves closer. I watch as she takes small, cautious steps until she stands before me, wrapping her arms around my waist without hesitation. She’s soaking wet.
“You’re okay,” she breathes with relief. “God, I was so scared. I’m so sorry about your grandfather, Kaz.”
Her voice is soft and steady. I’ve never heard her sound so concerned in all the time I’ve known her. I hold her tightly, aware that my words now may break me. I’m angry that she is here in the first place, but she just took a life. I recall my first kill and how shattered I felt. Caelia may have stabbed me in the past, but I doubt she has ever killed anyone before. Knowing her, the weight of guilt may come crashing down at any moment, but it’s hard to predict with her. She has yet to crumble over Konstantin’s death, handling it better than I ever thought she would.
“Never do this again, Caelia. Never follow me again.” My voice is rough.
“If you listened to me when I told you I had a bad feeling, maybe I wouldn’t have had to,” she retorts.
Caelia had tried to warn me, and I ignored her. She told me she didn’t like the idea of me respecting the agreement and entering unarmed with only two of my men. She didn’t want me to come at all.
“How did you get here?” I inquire.
“So you would know where to look next time? No, I don’t think I’ll tell you. Vanya is outside. He caught Sevastyan’s men attempting to sneak in through the back.”
“Why is he here?”
“I called him. I know you’re angry and have every right to be, but at least you’re alive.”
My wife is right. I was lucky that Sevastyan considered his father a more significant threat than me. Or perhaps he wanted to eliminate him first. I press a kiss to the top of Caelia’s head, focusing on her instead of the lifeless bodies surrounding us.
“Let me take you home.”
She nods eagerly. I guide her to the exit, where I encounter my cousin, who is soaked and covered in dirt from head to toe.
“Thank you.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “Grigoriy is dead, as is Sevastyan,” I inform him.
“Good riddance.” He shrugs, though his jaw clenches.
I won’t hold his grief against him if there will be any.
“I’ll handle the aftermath, Kaz. Take Caelia home.”
I nod, retrieving the keys from my pocket. I open the passenger door, waiting for Caelia to hop in. The rain continues to pour, the cold seeping into my bones. I start the car, turn on the heat, and leave this mess behind.