Chapter 31 #2
“Don’t touch him!” Tornike’s voice is barely a whisper. “Don’t... my son...”
I ignore him. Davit takes my hand, and I walk him over to Paul. “Give me your gun.” Paul hands it over. I crouch down to Davit’s level and show him the weapon. "Do you know what this is?" I ask.
He nods slowly.
"Have you ever held one before?"
He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the metal.
"It's okay," I say, giving him a small smile. "I can teach you. I'll show you exactly how it works."
His eyes light up at that, a flicker of genuine interest cutting through the fear.
“Alexei, no!” Salome is conscious again. “No... please... he’s just a child...”
I hand Davit the gun. It’s heavy in his hands, but he holds it carefully. “Wow, you’re a natural. Do you want to help your daddy?”
“Help daddy?”
“Yes. If you do well at this game, I’ll let everyone go. Mommy, daddy, everyone. Would you like that?”
“Yes!”
“Good boy. Oksana, put the bag on his head first.”
She pulls a black bag over Tornike’s head and sticks a target marker - red and white rings with a bullseye - right where his forehead would be.
“See that circle, Davit? That’s the target, and you want to hit the middle, right there on the bullseye.”
"Okay," he says, nodding like a soldier.
I show him the three bullets in the cylinder and give it a spin. "If you hit the target, everyone goes home. Your mommy, your daddy, everyone. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Tornike makes a muffled sound under the bag, a frantic, desperate noise that nobody listens to.
“Please… he’s seven years old…” Salome is sobbing. “He doesn’t understand…”
“That’s what makes this so fucking perfect,” I say, grinning.
“He doesn’t understand. He thinks this is fun.
He thinks he’s helping daddy. Meanwhile, daddy’s about to get a bullseye right between the eyes courtesy of his own son.
” I spin the cylinder. “You know what? I’m doing this kid a favor.
Normal childhoods are boring. But this? This is a villain origin story for the ages.
Twenty years from now, he’s either going to be running his own empire or locked in a psych ward.
Either way, epic.” I look at Davit. “Okay, buddy. Ready to play?”
I spin the cylinder, and the clicking sound fills the room. I position him, putting my hands over his to aim at the target.
“One... two... three. Squeeze.”
The hammer drops with a dry click.
“Oh, that’s okay! That happens sometimes. You get three tries, so let’s go again. You’re doing great.” I spin the cylinder again and help him steady his aim. “Ready? One, two, three, squeeze.”
Click. Empty again. Davit looks disappointed, his small shoulders slumping, so I spin it one last time and line the sights up perfectly with the bullseye.
“Alexei, stop!” Salome’s voice is hoarse, cracking as she screams. “Please! I’ll do anything!”
I ignore her and start the count. “One, two, three.”
Davit squeezes.
The room explodes with a deafening bang.
The gun fires, and the recoil jerks his hands back, but I hold him steady. The bullet goes straight through the bullseye. Tornike slumps forward, blood spreading across the black fabric.
Salome’s scream is inhuman, a raw, animal sound that rips through the air. She thrashes so violently that her chair tips, and she hits the concrete floor hard. Davit just stares at the gun with a confused expression.
“You did it!” I say, picking him up and spinning him around in a circle. “You hit the bullseye! Perfect shot! You’re amazing!”
“Did I help daddy?”
“You helped so much. You’re such a good boy.” I set him back on his feet and ruffle his hair. “Now go sit in your corner. The grown-ups need to talk.”
He walks back and pulls his knees to his chest. I walk over to Tornike and pull off the bag, revealing the hole perfectly centered in his forehead. “Huh. The kid's got good aim. Such a natural talent.”
I walk over to Salome, who is still tied to the fallen chair. I crouch down. “Your husband was loyal to Dato. I respect that, but loyalty has a price, and he just paid it.”
“I’ll kill you,” she whispers. “I swear to God, I’ll…”
“You won’t. Because you’re going to live. You and your son. You’re going to remember this moment every single day for the rest of your miserable fucking life. And you’re going to tell everyone what happens when you cross me. Understood?”
She stares blankly at me. I stand up and smooth out my jacket. “Pick her up and feed them. Start the boy’s training tomorrow. Dump the body where Dato will find it. I want it clear that this was personal.”
I walk toward the door, not looking back. “And someone clean up this mess. It smells like shit in here.”
I get home at three in the morning to a quiet house.
Guards are at their posts, and everything looks normal.
I stop at the downstairs bathroom first to strip off the tactical gear and the clothes flecked with blood spatter, stuffing them all into a bag for burning.
I shower, scrubbing my hands until they’re raw and washing my hair twice to rid myself of any trace of the warehouse.
Once I’m clean, I pull on soft pants and a fresh shirt before heading upstairs.
Zoya is in bed but not asleep, sitting up with a textbook open on her lap and a highlighter in hand. She looks up and smiles when I walk in. “Hey. You’re back.”
Just like that, the switch flips.
“Hey, Vedma,” I say, closing the door quietly as I walk over to the bed. “What are you still doing up? It’s three in the morning.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, looking up from her book. “I figured I’d just get ahead on some reading for class.”
I sit on the edge of the mattress and gently press her textbook closed. “You need to sleep, Zoya. You have to be in class in a few hours.”
She gives me a tired smile. “So do you. Don’t you have meetings?”
“Meetings can wait, but your education can’t.” I start gathering her papers and stacking them neatly on the nightstand. “Come on, put this away.”
“Alexei…”
“Vedma. Sleep,” I insist, pulling the highlighter out of her hand and capping it. “You’ve been at this for hours. Your brain needs to rest.”
She lets out a long yawn. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” I say, pulling back the covers for her. “Now, lie down.” She settles in, and I tuck the blanket around her. “Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?”
“I’m okay,” she murmurs.
“I’m getting you some anyway.” I go to the bathroom and fill a glass, bringing it back to her nightstand. “Just in case you wake up thirsty later.”
She watches me, her eyes tracking my movements. “You’re being really sweet right now.”
“I’m always sweet to you.”
“Yeah, but extra sweet,” she says softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect. I just want to take care of you.” I climb into bed and pull her against my chest. “Go to sleep now.”
“You first.”
“I’ll sleep when you do.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, feeling the way her breathing gradually slows until her entire body finally relaxes into mine. She’s so warm and soft against me, smelling of lavender and home - the complete opposite of the world I just left behind.
“Love you,” I whisper, the words disappearing into her hair.
“Love you too,” she mumbles, her voice thick and already half-lost to sleep.
Dato has someone powerful backing him, someone with the kind of money and connections he respects enough to take orders from. I’ll find out who they are eventually, and when I do, they’ll pay just like he did. But right now, none of that matters as much as the woman sleeping in my arms.
She shifts slightly, her hand curling into the fabric of my shirt as she settles deeper against me. I press a kiss to the top of her head and close my eyes, letting the quiet of the room take over.
This time, sleep comes easily.