52. Laila
52
LAILA
It’ll be okay . It’s all gonna be okay.
I’m screaming at Arsen with my eyes, trying to comfort him even as I’m being yanked around by my hair.
But the channel is closed. Arsen isn’t listening. His face is pale as he drops his gun to his side.
“Yeah, that’s right.” My father’s voice is an angry croak in my ear. He positions me more firmly in front of him—all the better to be his human shield. “Put the gun on the floor and kick it away from you. Now.”
Arsen doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told.
“Charles,” Arsen says in a low voice, “you don’t want to do this.”
“I’d say this is an even trade, wouldn’t you? You get your wife, and I get my money.”
“I told you already: it takes time to set up a fund transfer of that size?—”
“I don’t give two shits!” he yells. I cringe away from him, pain rocketing down my hip. But I take the opportunity to loosen my restraints a little more. “I want fifty million right now or I’ll blow her brains out. Then I’ll finish you off, too.”
I wait for the fear to overwhelm me, but all I find is the unmistakable burn of anger.
The vein in Arsen’s forehead bulges. “What good will killing us do? My men will see what you’ve done. You won’t make it to the city limits. We’ll be dead, but so will you.”
He swallows and pulls me tighter against him. Sour sweat drenches his shirt. The smell alone is enough to make me gag. But I fight it back. My restraints are now loose enough that the feeling has returned to my hands. If I wait for the right moment, I can get away from him.
“They’re not— You ordered your men to keep a wide berth of Nonna Guilia’s. I heard you give the order.”
“But did they listen?” Arsen shrugs. “They knew I was walking into a trap set by two idiots with more desperation than brains. They might be surrounding the building as we speak.”
“I’ll get out of this. I’ve gotten out of worse.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince Arsen or himself.
“Nothing is worse than this, Charles. Nothing could be worse than this because you’ve never faced off against me before.”
Charles presses the gun harder against my temple. “And yet, I’m the one with the gun. You have nothing.”
He’s talking a big game, but he’s shifting side to side behind me, scanning for his way out. His breathing is heavy against my neck.
Thankfully, he’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice that I’ve managed to slip free of my ties. The rope slithers to the floor with a soft thud, but his focus is lasered in on my husband, so he doesn’t hear it.
“I have more than you will ever have, Charles,” Arsen says evenly.
“Are we getting philosophical now?” Charles laughs hysterically. “That’s the trouble with people like you and my daughter and my wife.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother!” I cry out, unable to help myself. “She stopped being your wife the moment you left. You never deserved her.”
“Enough!” he roars right back in my face. “I’m done being blamed and questioned by you, you ungrateful whore! Your mother was a gutter rat with no family when I met her. I gave her a decent life, stability—I gave her a fucking future .” His nails dig into my skin, broken and yellowed. “I didn’t even want you! She was the one who begged me for a child. So what did I do? I gave her that, too.”
“Enough, Charles,” Arsen warns. I try to meet his gaze, but he’s staring daggers at my father.
“Why? She should know the truth before she dies.”
“I’ve known the truth.” I flex my hands behind my back, working out the last of the tingling as my blood flow returns to normal. “I knew it before Mom did, even.”
“She was always a slow learner. You’re lucky you take after me in that way,” he scoffs. “Ironic.”
“I’m nothing like you. And I never will be.”
With that, I plunge my elbow right into Charles’s stomach. His body folds around me, and I feel the air rush out of him. He chokes on nothing and his gun falls to the floor.
It all happens so fast and so slowly as I twist out of his reach, dropping to the floor to avoid the gun just in case it goes off.
Arsen yells my name, but the only thing I can hear is my blood rushing in my ears as I scrabble forward, determined to reach the gun before Charles does.
“No!” he screams, clawing his hands into my calf.
I kick at him, connecting with something—his face, his arm, I don’t know what—but he throws himself on top of me.
Both our hands are half an inch from the gun when, suddenly, someone kicks it across the room.
It spins away from both of us, disappearing under one of the dusty tables in the corner.
“No…!” Charles chokes. His eyes bulge with panic. He tries to grab me, but he falls back as a gunshot goes off.
He’s howling, writhing on the floor, when Arsen’s arm circles around my waist. He lifts me to my feet, holding me against him. “Are you okay?”
I look at my body, patting myself down. “Y-yes… I think so.”
He presses his lips hard to my forehead. “For a second there…” He holds me with the force of a man who’s not planning on letting go any time soon. It says everything his words don’t.
Charles is still clutching his right leg, but his screams have died down to pitiful whimpering. “P-please,” he begs. “Don’t kill me. I’m still your father…”
“And Laila is your only child. It didn’t stop you from using her as a bargaining chip and threatening her life,” Arsen snarls, pointing his gun at Charles’s face. “It’s time to end this.”
“Please.” A strangled moan escapes his lips as he looks me in the eyes. “Laila… my Laila…”
I flinch. He’s never once called me “his.” Even as a child, I was a burden to him. A chore.
And still, I cried for him during the accident.
I was seven and scared.
I wanted my father.
And what did he do? Where did he go? How did he leave us?
“Laila…” he murmurs. “My Laila…”
“How dare you speak her name after everything you’ve done? But I suppose it’s fitting—” Arsen cocks his gun. “—that you die with her name on your lips.”
“D-don’t?—”
“No!”
My voice surprises everyone. Arsen’s eyes snap to mine. “Laila, this man isn’t worth the air he breathes. He deserves to die. As long as he lives, you and Nina will ever be safe.”
I reach out and cup Arsen’s face with my palm. “I know, my love.”
I gently take the gun from his hand.
Then I point it at my father myself.
“My daughter will never be safe as long as you live,” I tell him, echoing what Arsen just said. “I know you’ve never loved me. Or my mother. And I know that this entire plan was your idea.”
“No! It wasn’t me. Jasper! It was Jas?—”
“I heard you take the credit for this plan,” I interrupt without raising my voice. “Don’t bother begging. It’s not going to do you any good. Arsen’s right: This has to end, and I want to be the one to end it.”
Arsen steps to my side, his hand settling against my hip. “Are you sure, roza ? I can take care of the scum for you.”
“No, I want to be the one to do it,” I insist without taking my eyes off Charles. “I have to. For Nina and my mom. But also for myself.”
“You c-can’t do this, Laila…”
I take a deep breath. “Watch me.”
Then I pull the trigger.
The blast of the gun echoes in my ears, deafening.
But I feel lighter.
He’s gone. Nothing’s changed, really. He’s always been gone in one sense or another. Just like he was when he was alive. Just like he was when I needed him most.
My father’s empty eyes stare up at me. It isn’t so far from the way he looked at me in life.
My arm drops, the gun suddenly heavy in my hand. I mean to take a step away from the growing puddle of blood, but I stumble. Instantly, Arsen is around me.
“You did good,” he murmurs into my ear. He strokes my face, a blazing spark shining brightly in his eyes. “You were magnificent.”
“I did what I had to do for my family.”
“Exactly.” He nods, every syllable laced with pride. “ Exactly. You’re Bratva through and through, roza. My beautiful rose with thorns.”
My eyes are closing. My limbs feel bogged down. I sink against his body. “Arsen…”
“It’s okay,” he assures me as I fall limply against his chest. “I’ve got you.”