Chapter 22 – Kaz
I’m just about to go after Violet when Maxim steps into my path, Niko at his side.
“I’ve been waiting in your office,” Niko says.
“What’s going on?”
He throws Arina’s burner phone on the bed. “It’s not a fluke,” he says. “The burner’s data matched. The number was registered under a ghost code traced back to Arina’s private terminal. They were sending updates every twelve hours, just like we thought.”
Niko pulls a cigarette out of his pocket but doesn’t light it. “Your gut was right. The bag, the phone, the colors—it’s all theirs.”
My jaw tightens. I should feel vindicated.
Instead, I feel sick.
“I don’t want to deal with it,” I say. The words fall from my mouth like lead. “I don’t want to see their face again once it’s done.”
Niko gives me a look that almost passes for sympathy. Almost. “What do you want to do?”
“I want them buried.” My voice is low. Final. “Transfer them to a Volkov black site. Quietly. No trace. Make it clean.”
Niko nods. “Done.”
Maxim shakes his head. “I still can’t believe that Arina did this.”
Niko barks out a laugh. “Well…come help me transport them to my car. I’ll send them to Chicago today.”
We all go down to the basement together.
The basement is cold, silent, except for the low buzz of the generator and the slow dripping of a pipe somewhere overhead.
Arina sits alone in the corner, wrists cuffed, blood dried at the side of their mouth.
They look up as we enter, like they’ve been expecting me.
They don’t say a word.
Neither do I.
Maxim steps forward and wordlessly unlocks the cuffs. The sound of metal clinks against the concrete. Arina rubs their wrists but doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t thank him. Just stares.
Maxim grabs their arm, not rough but firm, and pulls them to their feet. Arina moves stiffly, the scrape of their boots echoing as he leads them across the room toward the stairway.
They walk past me slowly.
Then, right when they’re level with me, they turn their head slightly—just enough.
“You’re losing yourself because of her,” they whisper, almost like it’s a confession. “You think keeping her alive and safe makes you a man, but it only makes you weak.”
My fists clench.
“You will keep killing people for her,” they go on, “but she will leave you. Just wait.”
“Maxim, get this bastard away from my sight,” I bark. Maxim drags Arina along.
“She was always a tool. A beautiful, soft, deadly tool. A distraction. And even after you kill me, Kazimir, she will still end up dead. There’s a bounty on her head that you can’t erase with blood.”
I pull out my gun. Maxim tenses. Niko, behind me, is already moving fast.
“Kaz,” Niko barks, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t.”
“I’ll do it myself,” I grit.
“You won’t,” he snaps. “Not because they don’t deserve it—but because you don’t need more blood on your hands. Not theirs. Not today.”
I shake with rage. But I let go. Barely. Niko nods toward the guards. “Get them loaded into the van. Now.”
They drag Arina away. Their smile never leaves their face, and that burns more than anything else.
I don’t watch them go.
I just turn to Maxim. “Make it painful.”
Niko smirks. “Trust.”
Then he follows Maxim up the stairs and disappears from sight. I wait a few moments to calm myself before going to find Violet. I have plans for us today. She can go to town to hang out with her friends. She’ll have bodyguards, of course, but she’s free to do what she wants from now on.
Or maybe we can have lunch with Jennie and Adrian, or Zoe and Lukin, or maybe a group dinner. A smile touches my face despite everything.
I head to our bedroom, hoping she’s back. She stormed off earlier, and I’ve been trying not to imagine the worst—again. But as I push open the door, I see her.
She’s standing on the balcony, her back to me, hair tangled in the evening breeze. Her posture is stiff, unmoving. In her hands is a piece of paper, crumpled at the edges. I don’t know what it is.
“Violet.”
She whirls around. Her eyes lock with mine—and my heart nearly stops. Fear. Raw and unfiltered.
“What’s going on, Violet?”
Her voice hits me like a backhand. “You’ve wanted me dead for so long, haven’t you?”
“What?”
She flings the paper at me, her hands shaking. “Don’t lie to me.”
The page floats like ash and lands at my feet. I pick it up.
Shit.
It’s the list. The fucking kill list.
The one from Arina’s room—the one I found after they were arrested. I meant to destroy it. Meant to burn it into oblivion. But I didn’t. I left it. Careless. Stupid. And now she’s standing here, unraveling because she went snooping.
“Violet—”
“What did I ever do to you?” she says, voice cracking. “I thought you wanted me.”
“I do.” The words leave me in a rasp.
“Then why?” Her voice rises. Breaks. “Why was one of your closest people planning to kill me? What am I even doing here, Kaz? You were never going to let me live, were you?”
Her words stagger me. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. She looks at me like I’m the end of every good thing she ever believed in.
And maybe I am.
“I didn’t want you dead, Violet,” I say, stepping toward her. “That list…it’s not mine. It was Arina. Arina was the one—”
She shakes her head, taking a step back like my words are poison. “You expect me to believe that? After everything? You hid that list. You knew about it and didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t hide it. I…I didn’t think you’d go looking. I should’ve destroyed it.”
“Exactly. You should have.” Her eyes shimmer with tears. “But you didn’t. And now I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Pain claws through me, unfamiliar and searing. I drop to my knees right there on the balcony floor. The cold marble bites into me, but I don’t care.
“Violet,” I whisper, reaching for her. My hands wrap gently around her waist as I press my forehead to her stomach. “I didn’t know how to love you.”
Her breath hitches.
“I only knew how to keep you,” I murmur. “Like everything else I’ve taken and locked away. I never had anything I was afraid to lose before you.”
Her fingers twitch at her sides. She doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t pull away either.
“But I’m going to learn,” I promise, looking up at her now. “For you. For our child. For the life I never knew I wanted until you walked into it and wrecked every wall I built.”
My voice cracks. “I swear it, Violet. I’m going to learn to love you right. Just…don’t go. Don’t walk away thinking I’m the monster they made me.”
Silence stretches between us, thick with breath and disbelief.
I stay on my knees, holding her as gently as I can.
And for the first time in my life, I beg—not with words, but with everything broken inside me—begging her to believe me.
She steps out of my hold. Not harshly. Not cruelly. Just…final.
“I can’t trust you anymore, Kaz,” she says, her voice trembling—not from fear, but from something worse. Exhaustion. Heartbreak. “Not like this.”
I rise slowly, confusion and dread flooding my veins. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me what it takes to fix this.”
Her eyes meet mine, soft and sad. “Let me go.”
The words hit harder than a bullet. For a moment, I’m not even sure I heard her right.
“Let you—” I blink. “Violet….”
“I mean it,” she says, backing away another step. “If you want to prove you love me—if you want to prove I’m not just something you keep—then let me go. Give me the choice. Stop locking me behind walls and telling yourself it’s protection.”
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You don’t understand what could happen—”
“I understand perfectly.” Her voice is firm now. “You’re not afraid for me, Kaz. You’re afraid of losing control. That’s what all this has been. Control, not care.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. Not at her. Never at her. But at the weight of the truth behind her words.
She’s not wrong.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit quietly. “Letting go…it’s not something I’ve ever done.”
“Then start now,” she says. “If you love me, let me choose to stay. Or walk.”