Chapter 21
NALA
"Roman!"
I'm bounding across the room before I can register what’s happening.
All I can see is Roman standing in the doorway, alive and here with me.
I launch myself into his arms. He catches me, hauling me close as I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my face into his throat, inhaling his scent and feeling his pulse.
I can’t believe he’s here. I pull back to look at him, double checking that this is real. It is. His clothes feel cold and stiff against my skin with the scent of what I can only assume is gunpowder and blood.
"You came back," I say, my voice breaking with happiness and lingering fear from this morning. His arms close around me, tight and almost crushing but I don’t care.
“I'm here, pchyolka. I told you I wouldn’t leave you.”
I gaze at him, now aware of the splatter of blood across his jacket, the dried streaks on his jaw, neck and hands. I don’t care how bloody he is. I grab his face with both hands, kissing him with everything I have, pouring my soul into it.
“I woke up and you were gone,” I whisper, in between a kiss. “I couldn’t stop thinking you wouldn’t come back. That I’d never see you again.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I won’t do that again.” His lips travel down my throat then back to my mouth.
When I finally draw in a breath and he sets me on my feet, I ask, “Does this mean your father’s dead?”
Roman shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “Not yet. He’s still alive. Not for much longer though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lev is with him at a warehouse.” He takes a step back and reaches for my coat. “I’m taking you to see him.”
My legs freeze. A tremor of fear races up my spine. I know Roman says he’s being held and obviously he can’t do anything to me, but the thought of facing this man who terrified me for so many years, fills me with dread.
“He doesn’t get to die without seeing you,” Roman says, his tone firm. “I want him to know you’re taking everything he has, while he’s dead and buried in the dirt.” He holds out his hand. “Let’s make him suffer.”
I take his hand, swallowing hard but admitting he’s right. I have to look Grigori in the eyes and make him see I’m no longer the scared little girl who was forced to sit on the cold concrete at his feet, afraid to say the wrong things.
We leave the cottage behind, the countryside fading, giving way to the city. I glance at Roman, pushing my nerves aside. “No more hiding?”
“No more,” he agrees. “You can go outside soon but not right away. I have to choose your guards first. There’s no way around this, pchyolka. You can’t ever be alone.”
I’m not stupid. I know this isn’t Roman being paranoid like his father. It’s the life I signed up for by loving him. We stop at a large rectangular warehouse that Roman tells me is a meat-processing facility. Underneath, however, Volchya uses it for more creative purposes. I didn’t need to ask.
“Stay close to me” he says, opening the door.
We descend a set of stairs, turn a corner, then go down another.
“He’s inside that room.”
I nod, blowing out a nervous breath. “He can’t hurt me,” I whisper in my head and out loud.
“He couldn’t hurt himself if he wanted to,” Roman mutters, placing his hand on the handle. “Lev’s inside. He knows we’re coming. Come on.”
We step inside the room. I curl my fists to stop my hands from shaking.
Right away, I see him, Grigori Ivanov, strapped into a chair with his hand bound behind his back and his feet tied together.
He looks different than the last time I saw him.
Not just because he’s being held against his will, but his features as well.
There are bags and shadows underneath his eyes that appear large and dark as if they’ve been there for weeks.
Despite his appearance, he’s still terrifying. But I’m not afraid.
His gaze lands on Roman first. He mutters something quiet and harsh in Russian. Roman steps further into the room and I follow, stepping to the side from behind him. Grigori’s eyes zone in on me.
He doesn’t shout or rage. His lips twist into a cynical smile as he throws his head back against the chair and laughs.
"You." His laughter dies as he switches to English. “I knew he took you. Knew that bastard was the one to start the fire. And you…” His eyes narrow to slits. “Lying bitch. I asked you so many times what my son was planning. You said nothing. Nothing. Does this look like nothing?”
“Bitch,” Roman grates, beside me. “You love that word, don’t you?” He steps closer, stopping at Grigori’s feet. “Suka. She learned that word from you. You hit her, slapped her and treated her like a fucking animal.”
“I treated her as she deserved.” Grigori’s eyes are cold, dead with no sign of remorse. “If I’d known you were going to whore yourself for my son, I would’ve used you first until there was nothing left, then fed your body to pigs.”
Before I can react, all I see is Roman’s fist connecting with his father’s face.
A loud crack ricochets off the walls. Grigori’s head snaps to the side, blood gushing from his nose, dripping down past his chin.
He spits on the ground, glaring at Roman, “Think you can make me disappear? People will search for me, the police—”
“Will do nothing,” Roman snarls. “Who showed up this morning to stop us from tearing your place apart? Who?” he bears down on Grigori. “No one. Not a fucking soul. Funny how an entire police department can go deaf and blind exactly when I need them to.”
“Psikhopát.”
“I’m your son,” Roman says, spreading his hands. “Psychopath or not, when you disappear, and you already have, your associates will only see a son willing to take over his father’s empire. A bastard’s better than nothing, right?”
Grigori’s eyes burn with rage as it slides back to me, unleashing venom.
“You’re next. Keep thinking you’re safe.
Roman doesn’t have feelings. He’s a machine.
You think he cares about you? He’s fucking you to make you think he cares.
That’s how smart he is. Thought you had it bad in the basement.
Just wait. I know my son. He’ll kill you as soon as you stop being useful to him. Stupid girl.”
At least he didn’t call me bitch again.
I look at Roman, his body rigid, his attention locked on me, watching for my reaction to his father’s words.
“That sounds like you.” I say, facing Grigori, making my voice clear and unmistakable.
“You would do that to someone you’re supposed to love.
Roman wouldn’t. You think you know him, but you don’t.
He was only useful to you for what he did in the Bratva.
You’re a horrible person and just because you couldn’t even bring yourself to love your own son, doesn’t mean everyone is like you.
It doesn’t mean Roman is like you. He isn’t. ”
“He’s worse than me,” Grigori barks, letting out a deranged laugh. “You’re too stupid to realize it.”
“Says the person who thought he could force my loyalty,” I curl my lips, eyeing with the disdain he deserves.
“I was never loyal to you. I was afraid. I didn’t want you to hurt my sister.
I hated you so much that even the fear of you hurting my sister stopped being enough to keep me from lying to you.
You made me hate being alive. That’s why it was easy for me to lie to you. ”
I ease closer to Roman, not finished with my former tormentor.
“Unlike you, Roman doesn’t force me to use my gift.
He doesn’t force me to do anything. Somehow, you taking everything from me, has given me the one person I need the most. So, thank you.
Because from here on out, I’m going to make sure no one comes between the life we’re meant to have together.
That means, any hint of disloyalty, anyone who dares plot against him, everything you forced me to do for you, I’ll do it willingly for Roman.
Simply because I love him and he loves me. ”
Grigori says nothing, in fact he’s no longer looking at either of us.
His eyes are focused on the wall ahead; lips upturned into a snarl.
Chin held up, he hisses at Roman. “My one regret in life is letting you live after that whore presented you to me as my son. You’re no Pakhan.
You’re a fucking dog that needed to be put down. ”
Roman eyes his father then shrugs before turning to me, “Anything else you want to say to him?” I shake my head, feeling nothing now as I look at this man for the last time.
I knew Grigori wouldn’t care about anything I had to say.
It doesn’t matter, though. So many times I thought his or Madam Belova’s face would be the last I saw before dying, but today I know for sure it’ll be mine and Roman’s face this man sees before taking his last breath. That’s fine for me.
Roman walks me to the door where Lev is waiting in the hallway. “Go wait with him.”
Lev curls his fingers, tilting his head, for me to follow. As much as I despise Grigori, I wouldn’t have the stomach to watch him or anyone else die. I’m also positive Roman wouldn’t allow me to watch even if I wanted to.
Lev leads me back upstairs and out. It’s the first time I’m alone with someone who isn’t Roman and I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure if he speaks much English, apart from what he said to me yesterday.
He moves quickly to his car, opening the back door. “Sit, Roman’s girl. It’s too cold for you to wait outside.”
I slide into the seat, surprised by the warmth. “So um… I have a name,” I say quietly, telling him in Russian.
He slides into the driver’s seat but keeps his door partially open. “It’s good that you learn the language of your new home.”
“Did Roman tell you how long I’ve been here?”
“He did. It’s also good what Roman is in there doing.”
“What do you think he’s doing?”
Lev eyes me in the rearview mirror. “You want to know how Roman kills?”