Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
She still doesn’t look at me. She stares straight ahead, her gaze fixed on nothing. She keeps her voice level and cold.
“I don’t give a fuck about when it was written,” she says more sharply than I’ve ever heard her say anything. “I care about the content.”
I exhale slowly, trying to rein myself in. “Let me explain,” I tell her calmly.
“I already read the explanation,” she says, barely above a whisper. “I read the police reports. I read the analysis. I read the speculation. They were all killed the same way. They were all found in the same pattern. Everyone knows it was you.”
“They would have killed me first,” I fire back. “They were gunning for me and my men. Zahn tried to undermine my operations for months. He killed three of my guys before I retaliated.”
She flinches, but she takes great care to hide it.
I force my voice lower. “Just like everything in my line of work, it wasn’t personal. It was survival.”
She finally turns her head. Her eyes meet mine for only a moment, and that moment guts me. There is no warmth there. No fear either. Just a steady, numb disbelief.
“Is this what got Anya’s mom killed?”
My breath stops.
She says it as a realization rather than a question. It’s like a puzzle piece has snapped into place and she hates that it makes sense. For the first time in my life, I feel an overwhelming sense of shame.
I run a hand over my face and sit back slightly, not because I want distance, but because what I’m about to say deserves honesty that requires me to ground myself and speak from the heart.
“Her mother’s death was a retaliation for the Zahn crew,” I tell her slowly. “They were aiming for Davýd. They knew taking him out would hurt me more than anything. He’s my second-in-command and my best friend.”
She doesn’t respond. I’m not even sure if she hears me, but I press on anyway.
“When they got there, he wasn’t home. His wife, Lena, was. She was there with Anya and a few staff members.”
Molly stays perfectly still, but her breathing becomes more ragged, like she might start crying again.
“They broke the code,” I say. “Women and children are off limits. That’s the one rule every Bratva and every crew follows. Only soldiers live and die in this world. Only the ones who choose it.”
She keeps staring at the far wall like she can’t bear to look at me.
“Zahn’s people didn’t care about the code. They wanted blood for blood. They couldn’t get to Davýd, so they killed his wife instead.” I let out a breath. “She had nothing to do with the business. They gunned her down anyway. Anya was in the house when it happened.”
Her eyes squeeze shut.
I watch her swallow, slowly, painfully. Every instinct in me screams to take her into my arms, to tell her it’s going to be all right, but it’s not all right. Not for her or Anya or anyone who’s been affected by our business.
She opens her eyes again and stares down at her hands. “So, this is what I’m bringing my child into,” she says harshly. “A world where mothers can just be gunned down in front of their children. Who’s to say your other enemies care about your damn code? What if they kill our child?”
“That would never happen,” I say quickly. “That would be an act of all-out war. Anyone stupid enough to try that would be dead in the next breath, and I would scorch the earth.”
She laughs once, a short, humorless exhale. “What would it matter?” she spits. “If someone is that stupid, they’re not going to care, Samuil. They’d probably do it to provoke you. You can’t guarantee our safety.”
She gently rubs her stomach on the word our, and I can’t help but grit my teeth.
“Molly.” I sigh, trying to stay patient. “Listen to me. What happened to Lena should never have happened. If I could change that day, I would. I’d have protected his home better. Hell, I probably never would have gone after Zahn in the first place. I can’t rewrite the past, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I’ve learned from it.”
She finally looks at me, and the devastation in her expression nearly buckles me.
“I’m sure that’s a great comfort to Anya,” she answers with so much venom it’s like she’s stabbing me in the heart.
“I know,” I say, hanging my head. “I can never bring back her mother, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life, but I’ve been honest with you. I’ve told you the truth about everything you asked.”
“You told me pieces,” she corrects softly. “You told me things in a way that made you sound like the good guy. I didn’t know the full picture. I didn’t know that you’re the reason Anya doesn’t have a mother anymore.”