Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(68)

“Pakhan put Mik in a street crew working as a lookout on jobs. It’s the lowest position in the Bratva, but within a year he was leading his own crew. Like I said, he was smart. Knew how to navigate tricky situations. Made himself valuable. Kept moving up.”

“And you?”

“I made myself valuable, too. Only there was no upward mobility in my position. I stayed right where I started out, because nobody could do for Pakhan what I could.”

His voice drops. “I proved to be extremely talented at making his enemies vanish.”

He’s silent for a long while, lost somewhere in his head. Then he draws a slow breath and continues.

“Pakhan liked Mik. Trusted him. Knew the death of his cousin was really my fault, not Mik’s, so when Mik eventually asked permission to go to America, he got it.”

“Why did he want to go to America?”

“Same reason everybody does: opportunity. Pakhan knew Mik was ambitious. Knew he’d eventually outgrow his position here. Knew that a lot of his soldiers would defect if Mik made a move to take over. And I think he genuinely liked Mik. He didn’t want to have to kill him if it came to that, so he sent him off with his blessing. Told him his debt was paid.

“Mine, however, would never be paid. I was the one who took his cousin’s life. My debt wouldn’t be paid until I drew my last breath, one way or the other.”

I rest my cheek on his chest. He cradles my head in one hand and rubs the other slowly up and down my spine.

“Our parents were dead by the time Mik went to America. Killed in an avalanche, if you can fucking believe that. The aunt we stayed with in Moscow died of cancer. Her husband had a heart attack. That was our entire family, so Mik and I were the only Antonovs left.”

He swallows. “Then Mik was killed.”

His voice is rough with emotion. Under my ear, his heart beats strong and fast.

I close my eyes and squeeze him. For the first time since all this started, I’m furious with Declan.

But this is their life, Declan’s and Malek’s both.

Kill or be killed. There’s no other option.

It’s a terrible Catch-22, because revenge starts the cycle all over again. You killed my cousin, now your life and the lives of everyone you love belong to me. You killed my brother, now I have to kill you.

And maybe also take a family member hostage for good measure.

And because you did that, now I have to retaliate, and on and on and on.

There’s no end to it. It’s probably been going on like this for centuries. War, blood, death, vengeance, start from the beginning and do it all over again.

I whisper, “What if there was another way?”

“Another way for what?”

“To get closure. What if you could do it without violence?”

His hand falls still on my back. When he speaks, his voice is surprisingly hard.

“Closure is an American idea. A fantasy. There’s no such thing. When someone you love is murdered, that scar never heals.”

I lift my head and gaze into his eyes. “So then revenge doesn’t really help.”

“It’s not about help. It’s about restitution. Balancing the scales.”

“So you believe that if you kill Declan in retaliation for Mikhail, the scales will be balanced?”

“Yes.”

My reply is as soft as his is forceful. “Except you’re wrong. The scales won’t be balanced. Because you’ll have hurt my sister.”

“I don’t care about your sister.”

“But you care about me. And I care about her. You can’t drop a stone in the water without causing ripples. Everything you do has an effect on something else. Someone else.”

Angry, he glares at me. I’m know I’m stepping out onto dangerously thin ice, but this needs to be said.

“What do you think will happen the day I find out you killed Declan? Do you think we’ll be lying here like this after that? Do you think nothing between us will change?”

He says flatly, “Now you’re blackmailing me.”

“I’m asking you to consider if there isn’t some other way.”

“Of course there’s no other way!”

“Yes, there is.”

“Like what?”

“Forgiveness.”

He stares at me with blazing eyes and a jaw turned to stone, his entire demeanor enraged. But he keeps his voice controlled when he says, “Don’t be na?ve.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Riley.”

The way he says my name feels like a slap. My cheeks burn with heat, but I don’t back down.

“You said you wanted him to suffer. I can tell you for sure that he is, because I was shot. Because you kidnapped me. Because my sister, despite her shortcomings, will blame herself for all this, which in turn will make Declan miserable. Way more miserable than if you shot him dead, because then he’d be released from his guilt and her pain.”

He sits with that silently, staring at me for so long, I think I might have made a dent.

But then the assassin takes deadly aim and pulls the trigger.

“Except there’s nowhere else on earth you’d rather be than here, remember? Which means my kidnapping you hasn’t been punishment for anyone.”