Boris jerked Viktoria forward, not seeming to be the slightest bit concerned about what might be waiting for him in the office. Maybe it was because he still had the gun pointed to her head and he figured Konstantin would be like his men. He wouldn’t be willing to risk his sister’s life when push came to shove.
But would he?
She always thought—or a part of her did—that her brother was just enough like their father to scare her. That at the end of the day, Konstantin was the one who would make the difficult choices. Maybe in a different way than Vadim would, but he would still make them, nonetheless.
Did that include sacrificing her, too?
She didn’t know.
God.
She hoped not.
Boris dragged her to the doorway of the office, and Viktoria quickly found her brother sitting behind his large desk. Calm and collected in a three-piece suit, as though nothing in the world were bothering him. Konstantin sat with his hands folded on the desk and his cold gaze on them. Amelia was nowhere to be seen, and that was a clue to Viktoria.
Hadn’t they said Konstantin’s wife was here?
Where was she?
Did he … know?
Had he known they were coming, and put Amelia out of the danger zone because—
“Viktoria,” Konstantin murmured.
Her gaze snapped to her brother.
He didn’t smile.
Didn’t blink.
Nothing.
“Don’t talk to her,” Boris snarled.
He pushed the gun harder against Viktoria’s head. She swallowed hard but didn’t look away from her brother. There was something in Konstantin’s eyes—a glimmer of calm that she had never seen from him before. A resolute understanding that he was in control here, even if it didn’t look like it.
Maybe that was what calmed her the most.
She couldn’t be sure.
“I never forgot,” her brother said. “How standing next to Boris, you seemed so small. I would think … he’s not a good match. He would swallow you whole, and there you would be, shadowed against him. You were far too brilliant to be hidden by any man, Viktoria. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
Boris’ arm tightened around her throat. “I said don’t talk to her.”
“Or what?” Konstantin asked, his gaze snapping to the man. “Or what?”
Boris jerked forward.
Konstantin smiled.
It was just enough—just beyond the doorway a little. A few inches, maybe a foot, if that. But the gunshot that echoed, shattered through the glass of the window behind Konstantin’s desk, and then plugged into the side of Boris’ shoulder had Viktoria freezing in place.
All the air left her lungs.
Her body stiffened.
She felt the blood splatter the side of her face. She knew she could finally breathe when his arm loosened around her neck. Her entire body screamed for her to move away from him as he fell to the floor with a shout, and the gun in his hand clattered across the floor.
She didn’t move, though. She didn’t know what to do. Konstantin moved, instead.
He was quick to come around the desk after grabbing his own weapon, which he apparently had hidden somewhere. Pointing the weapon at Boris, he looked to her.
“You okay?”
She shook her head.
His blood was on her.
She wanted it off.
“Sniper shot—courtesy of the Albanians,” Konstantin explained when Viktoria looked at the ruined window. “We were owed a favor … or two. I knew I couldn’t trust this bastard if he was working with Vadim. How many other men of mine would be working with them, too? I had to go outside the organization for help.”
She dragged in a raged breath.
It literally hurt to breathe.
“You had to think like Vadim,” she whispered.
Konstantin nodded. “But just enough … I can’t be him, too.”
“I know, Konstantin.”
“I’m sorry.”
Viktoria shook her head. “It’s okay.”
It really wasn’t.
But it would be.
“I should fucking let him suffer,” Konstantin said, digging in his pocket to pull out a ringing phone. “He should suffer, Vik.”
She couldn’t let that happen.
The gun at her feet—Boris’—gained her attention. Her brother was too busy looking at the screen of his phone while still pointing his gun at the man groaning on the floor. She didn’t even think about it before she bent down, plucked up the gun, aimed, and fired.
The last thing Boris saw before the bullet plugged into his forehead?
Viktoria.
It was what he deserved.
It’s what she deserved.
Konstantin said nothing, but he did nod before offering the phone to her. She didn’t understand what he was doing, and the only thing she really wanted right then was to ask where in the hell Pavel was and why he wasn’t here.
With her.
Where she needed him.
Konstantin nodded at the phone. “Take it and call Kolya back. Pav will be there to take the phone, too. I couldn’t have them here. Not when I needed people I trusted to be with Vadim, too. I couldn’t trust anyone, remember? I needed people there, too. So, they had to go, yes? But I couldn’t explain that to them. And what if he had a backup? What if he had something else that he could use against me that I hadn’t planned for? At least they would be there … if we all died here, they would be there to end him, too.”
So yeah, he was just like their father.
Just enough.
Enough to make the hard choices.
She didn’t tell him that, though.
Viktoria took the phone.
20.
“IT SHOULD be done by now.”
Vadim’s gaze finally drifted away from Pav, but only long enough to check the clock. He could see the wheels turning in the man’s head—working out the time difference between here, and Chicago, before he nodded.
“Yes, I believe it should be done,” Vadim said.
The smile that turned on Pav
