something similar once,” she noted. “But, you are not me and I am not you.”
I inclined my head in agreement.
Silence settled over us, not uncomfortable but pensive.
When I finally asked the question sitting in my mind, long moments had passed. “The loan sharks?”
“Killed.”
“Good,” I affirmed.
Roksana smiled briefly, like she was remembering something fondly. “Artyom strung them up by their heels and fed them their toes.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “That’s when I accepted his offer.”
I snorted. “Reasonable.”
She threw me a grin and we stepped out of the alcove. Down the hallway, the chatter had died down and I imagined if we went back to the bathroom, it would be nearly deserted.
I turned to Roksana. “Where is Mikhail?”
Roksana’s head flew to the side, hitting the wall with a loud thump. A large hand grasped her hair. She let out a cry of shock and pain so piercing it shocked my system.
“Let go!”
A huge man with beady eyes stepped out from behind Roksana, dropping her to the ground like a rag doll.
Terror and anger erupted in me like a volcano.
“Fuck off!”
The man grabbed my throat, holding it easily with one hand. I scratched at his wrist, digging my nails in so hard I felt his blood pool.
“Bitch!” He shoved me into the wall, the impact momentarily darkening my vision.
The second of disorientation allowed the man to apply more pressure onto my neck, pinning me to the wall. My lungs constricted as they fought for air.
Something swung over the man’s head, hitting him. He released me, stumbling back and swearing furiously.
Roksana had grabbed a decorative vase and was holding onto it like it was a weapon of mass destruction.
The man lunged at Roksana, knocking the vase away like it was nothing but a fly and shoving her to the ground. She hit the floor, but instantly began scrambling away, ankles getting caught in her dress.
When he went for her again, I lunged. I dug my fingers into his eyes, pressing down with everything I had.
His eyeballs felt both hard and squishy as my fingers sliced into them.
A gun cocked. “Let him go or I’ll shoot Mrs Fattakhov.”
I lifted my head to see a new man standing over Roksana, gun pointed straight at her skull.
I didn’t even think about it. I released the man and stumbled back, my fingers coated with blood.
The man cried out in pain, covering his face.
“You did some real damage, didn’t you, Mrs Falcone?” noted the newcomer. “A shame. Vik was one of our best bulls. No matter.” In a sliver of a second, he lifted the silenced weapon and shot Vik, before quickly pointing the gun back at Roksana.
Vik fell like a bag of rocks, bloody eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Roksana gagged.
I eyed the newcomer. He was dressed in all black, clean-shaven with bright blue eyes. He looked to be in his mid-forties with copper hair and tattoos patterning his exposed skin.
Mafioso. Vor. Soldier.
Whatever the fuck they were called.
“Who are you?” I spat.
“Haven’t you been keeping up with the news?” he asked. “From what I hear, you’re a very intelligent woman.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Where did you hear that?”
“A little birdy told me,” he said. He pressed the butt of the gun further into Roksana’s head. She closed her eyes briefly, regulating her breathing. “They also mentioned you had quite beautiful teeth.”
Roksana’s eyes tightened. She knew who had attacked us.
I knew who, too.
The same person who had been killing women associated with the mafia for the past few weeks.
“I know about you, too,” I said quietly. “The child-killer.”
“Ah, you’re referring to little Annabella?” His eyes gleamed. “She didn’t stop screaming. Papa, Mama, Abuelito. It was so fucking annoying.”
“She was a child,” Roksana piped up. She tilted her eyes upwards. “She had no part in any feud or vendetta. She was innocent.”
“Nobody is innocent, Mrs Fattakhov,” the man snapped. His grip on the gun tightened.
At the end of the hallway, a shadow moved. So subtle and familiar that I knew it could only be one person.
I spoke up, “You’re not going to kill the both of us. They’ll find you before you remove all the teeth.”
He laughed. “Don’t underestimate your adversaries, Elena. I think you’ll find they’re just as smart as yourself. If not smarter.”
“I think I’m smarter than you.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you do—”
Konstantin pressed a gun to his head. In the next second, he grabbed the man’s wrist and yanked it, allowing Roksana seconds of safety to scramble out of the