When I don’t say anything, Rai considers the subject closed and places my leather shoes by my feet. “Do you want me to help?”

“I can at least do that myself. Go before me. I will follow.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help? It’ll be quick.”

“You’re becoming a wife way too fast, Rai.”

But I feel like it’s only because she feels guilty that I took a bullet for her great-uncle.

That’s the reason why she wouldn’t leave my side all this time. It’s gratitude. I hate that fucking word. I don’t want her to feel gratitude toward me. I want her to be with me because she needs my presence as much as I can’t breathe without hers.

But there will be a different time and place for that. One day, she will snuggle into my arms, not because she feels grateful for my ‘heroic’ acts, but because she can’t stay away from me.

After making a face, she leaves.

I make sure the door closes behind her before I put my shoes on, grab my phone, and go to the balcony. It’s rarely open due to the fear of snipers. The late boss, Nikolai, was overly cautious, and Rai takes after him in more ways than one.

I dial the number on my phone and wait a few minutes before Flame picks up.

“How are things from your side?”

“First of all, fuck you—I didn’t sign up to be within the Irish. Feigning their accent is a nightmare.”

“Stop moaning. Did Damien’s attack work?”

“Magically. They’re anxious and kind of know they’re doomed because of the Russians and the Italians joining forces to crush them.”

“As they should,” I mutter under my breath.

“I believe Rolan will either reach out to Sergei or Lazlo or both.”

My fist tightens at the sound of that name. Rolan Fitzpatrick. There’s no way in hell I would ever forget it.

“And what does he intend to do exactly?” I ask Flame.

“Ask for a truce? Or a whore? How the fuck would I know?”

“Doesn’t matter, anyway. Both Lazlo and Sergei think the Irish sniped at my wedding and came to Sergei’s special supper.”

“To give them credit, the Russians did try to catch us that night, especially that bearded guy and the one with the glasses, but we escaped in time.”

I stare down at the guards stationed near every entrance. “No matter how much the Russians think they’re strong, they don’t compare to professionally trained killing machines.”

“Speaking of those killing machines, they’re waiting for their second half of the deposit.”

“I’ll send it over as soon as they finish the entire job.”

“Just give me a name.”

There’s a pause—from my side, not his. Why the fuck am I hesitating? After all, this was the reason why I returned to the States in the first place. This is why I’ve been staying alive.

“Kyle?”

“I don’t care who you have to kill from the Russians as long as it’s an elite and not Adrian or Sergei.”

“Why not Sergei? He would’ve been my first choice.”

Adrian is off the list because he knows some of the story. My secret kills for him in the past are the reason why I got in the brotherhood in the first place. Nikolai didn’t question my background when Adrian gave him a fake one because he—and Sergei—trust him that much. Adrian wants me close because he likes having one of the best professional killers in his arsenal, and for that, we have a mutual understanding. Of course he doesn’t know that I intend to ruin the entire brotherhood, though.

Sergei, however, should’ve been game because his position allows for greater impact if he suddenly dies.

Rai’s words from the other day are what’s stopping me from finishing him.

If he does die, she’ll be thrown out of V Corp and everything she worked for. The brotherhood is a harsh world for a woman, especially a very opinionated and outspoken woman like Rai.

So, I choose not to kill her fantasies yet, even though she’ll eventually leave them behind once I whisk her out of here.

“I still need Sergei. He prefers me now, and I’ll use that to my advantage,” I say. “Choose one of the others.”

“And then?”

“And then stop asking questions and make it happen. After all, I’m paying you in fucking favors, and you know how much I hate them.”

“Fine, fine. I was just wondering if you had a plan for that blondie wife of yours.”

You don’t fucking talk about her that way. In fact, don’t bloody mention her at all.

That’s what I want to say, but if I show my weakness to Flame that way, he won’t hesitate to use it against me in the most brutal way possible. I might have him as an ally right now, but there will be a day when he will return to being my enemy.

“Rai is nothing,” I say in a casual tone. “I’ll just leave her behind.”

“Which is the smartest thing to do, because if she knows what you’re doing, she’ll murder you.”

She would.

But I’m still taking her with me. I don’t care if she kills me as long as she’s by my side.

“We’re close to the finish line, so get your head in the game, Flame.”

“Always is, punk.”

“By the end, I want both the Irish and the Russians destroyed.”

This is my vengeance.

31

Rai

I stand frozen in place, not sure what I just heard or if I heard it correctly.

Maybe my mind is playing a trick on me. Maybe none of this is real and I’m dreaming.

I’ll wake up soon, right?

I close my eyes so hard they sting then I open them again. Unlike what I foolishly hoped for, I don’t wake up.

Instead, my mind is assaulted by the words I heard as I stood by the door.

By the end, I want both the Irish and the Russians destroyed.

Kyle said that, among other things I’m unable to wrap my mind around.

He usually notices my presence even before I step into the room. Not this time, though. He hasn’t shown any sign that implies he knows I’m here. It could be that his medication has dulled his senses, or that I’m too silent.

Or maybe he’s too focused on his destruction plan to notice I’m here.

The fact remains, he said those words.

This is not my imagination.

This is not a nightmare.

This is reality.

The man standing on the balcony, the one I took as a husband and whose ring I’m wearing, has been plotting my family’s demise.

For a second, I’m unable to breathe or think. Should I barge in there, confront him, and possibly get myself killed? Or should I step away and pretend I heard nothing?

Pretend I didn’t come back because I got the DNA tests from Katia and they said in big fat letters that he’s not Igor’s son.

Pretend I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for his games all over again after seven years of swearing to never be a fool.

I was doing just fine, getting used to him being my husband. I was ready to forgive him and put everything behind us.

But how long would I have lived in that pipe dream before the bubble burst? Before I saw Kyle for what he truly is?