from the rest of the cemetery, and the office and gift shop were a mile away. No one would hear her scream. Unless someone just happened to come by. She needed to keep Sylvia talking.
"Did you know what Natasha was doing?" she asked. "That she was spying for Constantine and your father?"
"Of course I knew. At first, I thought she was having an affair with my father, until I realized he was turning her into an asset."
"So, you knew your father was a spy."
"I found out when I was twelve years old. But he didn't know I knew, not until much, much later, not until I told him I saw Natasha going through his desk. He knocked her around for that. I thought he might get rid of her," she said coldly. "But he had a strange obsession with her. All the men did. They loved her and they hated her at the same time. Whereas I just hated her. I saw her for who she was. The way she treated your father was disgusting. She was a terrible mother. I felt bad for Rex, because I knew what it felt like to have shitty parents. We had that in common."
She licked her lips. "What about Julia? Did your father rape her?"
"Maybe," she said dismissively. "It wouldn't surprise me. He was not the man everyone thought he was. He was born to be a spy, to be a killer, to be evil. He's the devil in a mask; he always has been."
"You're so cold."
"I am cold. I've been cold my whole life," she said, her eyes lit up with an odd light. "He destroyed me, too, you know, when I was a little girl. But I still tried to protect him. All my life, I stood up for him, even when he didn't stand up for me. I even tried to save him this week. Because I knew you were going to tear everything down, just like she did. Which means you have to die, too." She took aim with her gun.
"You killed Natasha? Not your father?" She wanted to be very clear on the facts. If she was going to die, she wanted to know the truth first.
"He didn't want her dead; he just wanted to own her. I, however, wanted her gone."
"And Julia? You killed her, too?"
"I thought if we gave you a murderer, you might stop, but even after your grand speech, I knew you were lying."
"So, you sent someone to burn down my house?"
"That was already in motion, but once again, you escaped. And when the FBI showed up at my father's house, his housekeeper contacted me. I was able to leave the club before Jax could arrest me. I was always suspicious of him. I should have fired him the first second I saw him. I knew he was hiding something."
"Did you also know his father—Andrei Markov?"
"What?" Sylvia asked, showing surprise for the first time. "Andrei Markov was Jax's father?"
"You did know him."
"He played chess at the club. He was handsome. I had a little crush on him, in fact."
"Do you know who killed him and his wife?"
"Is that why Jax came to the club?" Sylvia shook her head in bemusement. "I did not see that one coming. Constantine was responsible for Markov's death. He sensed Markov was going to run, and he thought Novikoff liked him too much. So he killed them Markov and his wife.”
She couldn't believe how pragmatic Sylvia was when she spoke about cold-blooded murder.
"But I didn't know there was a kid," Sylvia continued. "I wonder why Constantine let Jax live." She shrugged. "His parents must have stashed him somewhere. Lucky him. But let's get back to you, Maya. You started all this in motion, not just with your questions, but because you look like Natasha. I could see it happening again, all the men thinking you were just like Natasha—pretty but not at all dangerous. I see you for who you are, and I am not going down without taking you with me."
"Why? Why don't you just run? Disappear where no one can find you. Killing me won't accomplish anything." She was running out of time. She could see it in Sylvia's face. She needed a distraction. "And it wasn't me who sent the FBI to your door; it was David. He's the one who betrayed you. Haven't you wondered where he is? I'll tell you—he's at FBI headquarters, and he's confessing everything. Your only chance is to run. Another