Chapter 23 #2
"The agreement was no guards," Andrei says flatly "You broke your word."
"I'm a businessman, Mr. Petrov. I don't take unnecessary risks." My father's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Besides, you brought men as well. I saw the vehicles some ways back on the way in."
"For defense. Not offense." Andrei's hand moves slightly, and I realize he's positioning himself between me and my father. Protecting me even now. "You brought Volkov. That's a declaration in and of itself."
The older man—Volkov—steps forward. His smile is cold and predatory. "Smart boy. I always said you were smart, Petrov. Shame you're so young. So inexperienced. So... vulnerable."
"Dad." I step around Andrei, ignoring his sharp intake of breath. "Please. This isn't what I asked for. I asked you to come so we could talk. So we could end this war before more people die."
My father's expression softens slightly when he looks at me. "I know, sweetheart. And I appreciate what you're trying to do. But you're naive. You don't understand how this world works."
"Then explain it to me." I move closer, desperate to reach him, to make him understand. "Explain why you're willing to let this war continue. Why you won't just pay the ransom and bring me home."
"Because it's not about the ransom anymore, Liesl." He glances at Volkov, then back to me. "It hasn't been about the ransom for a long time."
Something cold settles in my stomach. "What do you mean?"
"Your kidnapping was actually very beneficial for me.
" He says it casually, like he's discussing a successful business deal.
"Once Petrov is eliminated and the Volkov family takes over his territory, I'll have a new stream of income.
New businesses. New opportunities. All because of the war that started over you. "
The words don't make sense at first. I hear them, but my brain can't process what he's actually saying. "You're using me," I say slowly. "You're using my kidnapping as an excuse to—what? Expand your operations?"
"Not an excuse, sweetheart. An opportunity." He smiles—the smile I'm sure he's flashed in boardrooms when he's closing a deal that will make him millions. "Petrov made a mistake when he took you. He gave me the perfect reason to align with the Volkov family and take everything he's built."
"You never intended to pay the ransom." I stare at him. "You never intended to bring me home. Not from that very first call."
"Of course I want you home." He sounds almost offended. "You're my daughter. But I'm also a businessman. And this situation presented an opportunity I couldn't pass up."
My lungs seize, and I feel like I can't breathe.
I can't quite process the fact that my own father—the man who raised me, who taught me to ride a bike and helped me with my homework and told me he loved me—has been using my kidnapping as a business strategy.
Everything Andrei has said is true—it's all right here in front of me now, in my father's own words.
"You let men die," I say, my voice shaking. "People have died because you wouldn't end this."
"People die in war, Liesl. That's the nature of the business.
" He shrugs, like we're discussing stock prices instead of human lives.
"I'm sorry you had to be caught in the middle of it.
But once this is over, once Petrov is eliminated and the Volkov family has consolidated control, you'll be free.
You'll come home. Everything will go back to normal. "
"Normal." I stare at him, tears pricking at my eyes "You think things can go back to normal after this?"
"You're young. You'll heal." He takes a step toward me, and I instinctively step back.
The movement makes him frown. "Liesl, I know this is difficult to understand.
But in a few years, you'll see that I made the right choice.
That sometimes we have to sacrifice short-term comfort for long-term gain. "
"I'm not a business deal!" The words explode out of me.
"I'm your daughter! And you're talking about me like I'm—like I'm just another asset to be leveraged!
I've been in danger! People want me dead.
And I could have been hurt. Anything could have been happening to me, and—you… all you care about is money!"
"That's not fair." For the first time, he looks genuinely hurt. "I love you, Liesl. Everything I do, I do for our family. For our future."
"No." I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. "No, you do it for yourself. For your empire. For your profit margins and your fucking business opportunities."
"Liesl—"
"You can't kill him." The words come out desperate, pleading. "Please, Dad. Please don't do this. Just—just walk away. End the alliance with Volkov. Let Andrei keep his territory. We can all just walk away."
"I'm afraid that's not possible." Volkov speaks up, his voice cold and amused.
"Your father and I have an agreement. Petrov's territory becomes mine.
His operations, his men, his businesses—all of it.
And in exchange, your father gets a percentage of the profits and access to my distribution networks. "
"I don't care about your agreement!" I turn to my father, grabbing his arm. "Please. Please don't do this. I'm begging you."
He looks down at my hand on his arm, then up at my face. "Why do you care so much about what happens to him? He kidnapped you, Liesl. He held you hostage. He's a criminal."
"Because I—" The words catch in my throat. I can't say it. But my father sees it anyway. His expression hardens.
"Oh, Liesl. Tell me you didn't fall for him. Tell me you're not that naive."
"It's not naive to care about someone." My voice is barely a whisper. "It's not naive to want to save someone you—someone you—" I can't finish the sentence. But I don't have to.
"Liesl, step aside." My father's voice has gone cold, the voice he uses when he's done negotiating and ready to close the deal. "This doesn't concern you anymore."
"It concerns me more than anyone!" I move to stand directly between my father and Andrei. "If you want to kill him, you'll have to go through me."
"Don't be dramatic." He reaches for me, trying to pull me aside. "You're upset. You're not thinking clearly. Once this is over—"
"Once this is over, I'll never forgive you." I jerk away from his touch. "If you do this, if you kill him, you lose me. Forever. Do you understand? You'll never see me again. I'll disappear and you'll spend the rest of your life wondering if I'm alive or dead."
Something flickers in his eyes. Pain, maybe, or regret—but it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by cold determination.
"I don't want to lose you, Liesl. You're my daughter. My only child." He pulls a gun from inside his jacket, and my entire world narrows, my blood running cold. "But I won't let you get in the way of everything I've built. Everything I've worked for. If I have to choose between you and my empire—"
He raises the gun and points it at Andrei.
"Then I choose my empire."
Time slows down. I see my father's finger tighten on the trigger. See Andrei reaching for his own weapon. See Volkov's men raising their guns.
And I make a choice.
I throw myself in front of Andrei.
The movement is instinctive and thoughtless. I don't consider the consequences or the danger or the fact that I'm putting myself directly in the line of fire. I just move, my body acting before my brain can catch up.
"No!" Andrei's arm comes around my waist, trying to pull me back. "Liesl, what are you—"
"I won't let you kill him!" I scream at my father. "If you want to shoot him, you'll have to shoot me first!"
My father's face goes white. The gun wavers. "Liesl, move. Now."
"No."
"Liesl, I'm warning you—"
"I don't care!" Tears are streaming down my face, my whole body shaking with fear and adrenaline and desperate determination. "I don't care if you shoot me. I don't care if I die. I'm not moving."
"You're being irrational." His voice is strained, and I can see his hand shaking slightly. "You're suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. You don't actually love him. You're just—"
"I know exactly what I feel." I take a step forward, and Andrei's grip on my waist tightens. "And I know that if you pull that trigger, you'll have to live with killing your own daughter. Is your empire worth that? Is your alliance with Volkov worth murdering me?"
For a long moment, we just stare at each other. Father and daughter, two people who used to love each other, now standing on opposite sides of a war. "Please," I whisper. "Please, Dad. Don't do this."
His jaw clenches. His finger moves on the trigger. And then everything happens at once.
Andrei shoves me aside with enough force to send me sprawling. A gunshot cracks through the air. My father staggers backward, blood blooming across his shoulder.
Andrei's gun is smoking.
"You shot him," I gasp. "You—"
"He was going to kill you." Andrei's voice is hard as iron. "He made his choice."
Volkov roars something in Russian, and his men raise their weapons.
And the world explodes into violence.
Gunfire erupts from every direction. Andrei's men return fire from behind the vehicles. Volkov's men advance, using the SUVs as cover. The sound is deafening—crack after crack after crack, the sharp reports echoing off the cabin walls.
Andrei grabs my arm and drags me behind our car. "Stay down!" he shouts over the noise. "Don't move!"
But I can't stay down. I can't hide while people die around me. I peer around the edge of the car and see my father on the ground, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers. One of Volkov's men is dragging him toward the SUVs, trying to get him to safety.
"Dad!" I start to move toward him, but Andrei yanks me back.
"Are you insane?" He's furious, terrified. "You'll get yourself killed!"
"He's hurt! I have to—"
Another volley of gunfire cuts me off. I see one of Andrei's men go down, blood spraying from his chest. Viktor takescover behind the second vehicle, returning fire.
Andrei releases me and moves around the car, his gun raised. He fires three times in rapid succession and two of Volkov's men drop. Then he's moving forward, using the chaos as cover, advancing on Volkov's position with the cold mercilessness of a predator.
"Andrei, no!" I scream, but he doesn't hear me. Or he hears me and ignores me, too focused on his target to care about anything else. I watch in horror as he closes the distance. Volkov sees him coming and raises his own weapon.
They fire at the same time. Volkov goes down. A perfect shot to the center of his chest. But Andrei staggers. His hand goes to his side, and comes away red.
"No." The word is barely a whisper. "No, no, no."
I'm moving before I can think, running toward him across the open space between the vehicles. Bullets whiz past me. Someone shouts my name, but I don't care.
I reach Andrei just as his legs give out. He collapses against me, his weight nearly taking us both down. "I've got you," I gasp, trying to support him. "I've got you, just—just hold on."
"Liesl." His voice is weak and strained. "You need to run. Get out of here."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Stubborn woman." He tries to smile, but it comes out as a grimace. "Always so stubborn. Always… such a brat."
I lower him to the ground as gently as I can, my hands pressing against the wound in his side. Blood wells up between my fingers, hot and slick. Too much blood. Way too much blood.
"You're going to be okay," I whisper, even though I don't believe it. "Viktor will get us out of here. We'll get you to a hospital. You're going to be fine."
"Liesl—"
A sharp, burning pain explodes in my shoulder. I gasp, my vision going white for a moment. When it clears, I'm on the ground next to Andrei, my own blood mixing with his.
I've been shot.
The realization is distant, almost abstract. Like it's happening to someone else. I can see the wound—a neat hole in my shoulder, blood soaking through my shirt—but I can't quite connect it to the pain radiating through my body.
"No!" Andrei tries to sit up, trying to reach me. "No, fuck, Liesl—"
"I'm okay." I'm not okay. I'm very much not okay. But I need him to believe it. I need him to stay calm. "I'm okay, it's just my shoulder."
He drags himself closer, his movements slow. When he reaches me, he pulls me against his chest with his good arm, holding me like he can protect me from the bullets still flying around us. "I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. All of it. I should never have—"
"Don't." I press my hand to his face, forcing him to look at me. "Don't apologize. This isn't your fault."
"Your father was right. You have Stockholm Syndrome. You don't actually—"
"Shut up." My vision is starting to blur at the edges. "Please. Stay with me."
The gunfire is fading. Or maybe I'm just fading, my hearing going distant and muffled. I can see Viktor running toward us, his mouth moving, but I can't hear what he's saying. Andrei's grip on me is loosening. His eyes are closing.
"No." I try to shake him, but my arms won't cooperate. "No, Andrei, stay awake. You have to stay awake."
"Tired," he mumbles. "So tired."
"I know. I know you're tired. But you have to fight. Please. For me. Fight."
His hand finds mine. Our fingers intertwine, blood-slick and trembling. "I love you," he whispers thickly. "I was going to say it… after. I guess this… is after."
I want to shape words in response, something to tell him that I love him too, but sound won't come. The world is going dark. I can feel myself slipping away, consciousness fading. The last thing I see is Andrei's face, pale and as lost as I am. The last thing I feel is his hand in mine.
And then there's nothing. Just darkness.
Just the two of us, falling together into the void.