5. Alik

5

ALIK

G lass shatters as Nikita swipes everything off his desk onto the floor, a growl barreling out his lungs.

He raises his cane and strikes a hundred-thousand-dollar painting on the wall, slicing the canvas down the middle. He obliterates it with six more swings before he takes the frame off the hook and hurls it against the drink cart. Silver rattles, and liquor spills as the thing topples over, and because that wasn’t enough, he storms that way.

No one says anything when his foot catches on the carpet, and he slams his cane down to catch himself. No one dares help him when he takes a knee, sweaty, dark blond hair normally neatly combed back now hanging over his forehead.

Maksim and Roman, two of Nikita’s lieutenants, stand off to the side with pissed off looks on their faces while I stand by the door, my hands clasped behind my back, wondering if either of their expressions are genuine. I have my doubts, especially when it comes to Maksim. His relationship with the Italians is good, so I question if he already knows the news I just brought Nikita.

The Italians, the main suppliers of our heroin, have decided they’re no longer willing to work with us due to how much heat we’re taking from the DEA. It’s too risky on their part, apparently. Their don won’t even give Nikita the courtesy of a meeting to discuss the matter; instead, they sent a soldier to our regular exchange point, empty handed. And to make things worse, two of our dealers were arrested today.

It’s been three days since I left the princess at that drug house. Nothing was in the papers about it, which is unusual. As far as I can tell, no attention has left our operation, which means...

I fucked up. I should’ve killed her like I’d been ordered.

It’s quiet for a full minute while Nikita recovers.

“What good does your friendly banter with the Italians do for me if you can’t get a simple thing done?” Nikita’s voice is a low, menacing growl. A threat really, more than a question, directed at Maksim. I’m surprised he’s throwing the blame Maksim’s way first, but it’s only a matter of time until he makes his way to me.

“I’ll do everything I can to smooth things over with the Italians, but we all know that isn’t the real problem here, Pakhan,” Maksim replies.

Slowly, Nikita uses his cane to help him stand, cracking his neck when he’s fully erect. “The goddamn DEA.” His scowl turns to me. “Their sole attention should be on the Irish by now.”

“It’s only been a few days, sir,” I say, knowing it’s bullshit. It’ll be a miracle if this mistake doesn’t cost me my life.

Keeping my hands clasped behind me and my voice even, I hold his murderous gaze. “It’s possible they’re merely following through on things they already had in motion.”

Roman scoffs. “I know you’re dead inside, kid, so this may be tough to grasp, but the guy’s daughter died, and we gave him someone to blame it on. That’s enough for everything on his agenda to get shoved to the side.” He shakes his head and pushes off the wall, uncrossing his arms. Maksim is smart enough to keep quiet while bad news is fresh for Nikita, ensuring the boss is the one to make the calls. Roman, not so much, and I wish he’d shut the fuck up.

“No, something is obviously off,” Roman continues. “If they aren’t going after the Italians, it means they’re targeting us , and we need to know why.”

“I don’t care why ,” Nikita snarls. “I don’t answer to them. They answer to me.” He snaps his head to me. “And you were supposed to deliver that message. I don’t know why the fuck I let you talk me into some sideways bullshit.”

“You’re right, sir,” I nod and catch Roman rolling his eyes. “I apologize.”

“You apologize?” Nikita limps up to me, his eyes wide and head shaking with fury. “I should kill you right where you stand.”

I don’t blink. Don’t move. My jaw doesn’t tic, and my hands don’t clench, but if he so much as thrusts a blade my way, I will slice that manic scowl right off his face. I know what Roman means when he says I’m dead inside, but he’s wrong in this instance. I feel challenged, and when I feel challenged, I feel the need to be violent. It’s what makes me a terrific weapon, and Nikita knows it.

“Probably,” I say because I refuse to ask him to spare me. He might kill me, he might not. He’s pretty fucking unpredictable.

His face reddens like my response only pissed him off more, and I can’t decide whether or not I regret it.

“Surely there are other ways we can get to the DEA,” Maksim graciously pipes in. “If the special agent isn’t mourning his daughter’s death, maybe he isn’t the caring do-gooder we’ve been pegging him for. We?—”

“Or maybe overdosing on heroin wasn’t as tragic a death as what was needed,” Nikita interrupts, his eyes never leaving mine.

“There’s nothing we can do about that now.” Maksim pulls his hands from his pockets and shifts toward me. I appreciate what he’s trying to do, but I don’t need him to save me, so I toss a glare his way until he stops.

“We could try offering a bribe,” he goes on anyway. “Hell, maybe that’s what he’s been waiting for.”

Nikita’s jaw flexes. “I’m not giving that piece of shit a penny.” He spins to face his lieutenants. “I want the special agent executed. Him and his family. Tonight .”

Roman rears back. “Sir.”

“What?” Nikita booms, puffing his chest to challenge Roman as he did me. He’s a lunatic. Killing an informant is one thing, but the SAC? We do that, and we’re done. That isn’t putting out the fire, it’s turning our entire organization into ash.

“We’re tense,” Maksim chimes in, his eyes narrowed in clear disapproval. “We should take the night to think about our next move.”

Nikita throws his head back with a laugh while Maksim and Roman use the opportunity to exchange a look with each other. If there’s an assassination happening tonight, it might be Nikita’s.

“I don’t need a night,” Nikita says, coming down from his dry laugh. “I need this taken care of, and since Alik has proven himself useless, we’re going to do it my way. So…” He lifts his arms. “Do either of you have an enforcer you’d like to nominate for the honor?”

“You mean one we’d like to sacrifice?” When Roman openly glares, Nikita’s arms lower. I can’t see his face, but I can hear the vicious thoughts entering his mind. “Because everyone here with a brain knows we’ll have to give up whoever lays a hand on that man’s head if there’s even a chance of us surviving the aftermath of this bullshit plan.”

“ Roman ,” Maksim warns.

“No.” Roman bats Maksim away. He opens his mouth to rant while the tension in the room grows, and I watch the jackass’s life flash in front of me. I thought I’d be the one to get myself killed, but he seems to have a death wish.

I look to the side, my tongue pressing into my cheek while Roman goes on.

Does he not value his life at all?

“Well, please, Roman, tell me what you really think,” Nikita singsongs, stepping closer to his lieutenant.

I look away again before I watch him pull the knife out.

This is my fault.

I should’ve killed the girl.

I fucked up.

It isn’t just Roman’s life on the line. It’s the entire Bratva’s. If Nikita goes so far as to kill Roman to make his point, he’ll make his move against the DEA before the night is through.

It’s my mistake.

I have to fix it.

“I think if you do this, you don’t care about your own people,” Roman spits.

“Has that not been obvious?” Nikita laughs.

I flex my hands and sigh. “We don’t need to kill the special agent because I never killed the daughter.”

All eyes move to me as silence permeates the room. They all wear the same confused look on their faces.

I tuck my hands into my pockets and clear my throat. “The other night, I thought I had a better idea. I took her to one of the Irish drug houses, shot her up, fired out the windows then left her there… I thought her being picked up at a crime scene would be plenty to piss the special agent off. I thought it would be more effective even, but…” I leave my mouth open for a moment, watching as their expressions remain unchanged. They’re still confused, and I can’t blame them. My actions made sense to me at the time, but now that none of it worked, I question the merit of any of my decisions that night.

“It wasn’t,” Maksim finishes for me.

I slide a hand over the back of my neck and nod. “I can finish the job tonight. It’ll be no problem.”

Nikita huffs, shaking his head in disgust. “No problem? Does it seem like we have no problems to you?”

“You’re right, sir.” I nod my agreement. “I made a mistake that cost us. Please, give me the chance to fix it before you make your decision on how I should be punished.”

Silence.

He stares at me for a long time before standing straighter, his cane digging into the carpet as he seems to have made a decision. It isn’t until it’s out of his mouth that I know what it is.

“You acted with authority you’ll never have. You don’t deserve an opportunity for redemption.”

My breathing falters for a moment before I force its return to normal.

Everyone watches me carefully as I pull my gun from behind my back, the metal heavier than I remember. I’m not afraid of death, but I’m having a hard time questioning my judgment after everything that’s happened. I only get one shot at keeping my life. And I’m using it to bluff.

“You’re right, sir,” I say in an even tone while holding out my gun for him.

I keep my face neutral, ensuring there’s no challenge to be found in my posture, my voice, hopefully my eyes. This isn’t about challenging him. It’s about respect. It’s about proving that I’m a soldier capable of following the Bratva to the edge of the Earth and then stepping off.

Loyalty.

Respect.

They don’t come cheaply to a leader like Nikita. I’ve been his most trusted soldier for quite some time now, and it all comes down to my ruthless obedience for his asinine requests, unwavering allegiance despite the lines he’s crossed and lack of fear for him that he seems to appreciate.

I broke his trust, but it’s time to remind him I’m still all the things he’s trusted me to be in the past.

“I trust your judgment, Pakhan.” I continue holding out the gun while he looks between me and the metal, his lips spread thin.

When his eyes roll, I lower the piece.

“ Fine . I want it done right this time, Alik. No more of that overdose bullshit. Send a message.”

“Yes, sir.”

I go to turn but stop when Nikita continues.

“I don’t want you going alone this time. Take Sergey. I don’t believe his DNA is in the system. I want DNA all over that girl, understood?”

I’m struck for a moment by a fist forming inside my abdomen, twisting my intestines until pain hunches my shoulders slightly. I have no idea why I would have this reaction or where it comes from, so it startles me.

I’m going to kill this girl. I can accept that. Even if I have to do it with a partner, I’ll accept it.

She’s a job. I’ve had plenty before her, and I’m hoping to have plenty after.

She means nothing.

Her screams will mean nothing. Her begging will mean nothing. The look of betrayal I can already see in her eyes will mean nothing.

It was odd that I felt the need to peek in on her at the hospital, dangerous even. It was unusual for me to listen for her through her door when I got home the following night. The intrusive thoughts entering my mind are strange and unwanted, but they mean nothing .

This is fine.

Of course, this is fine.

Like Roman said, I’m dead inside.

Then why do I feel so goddamn alive?

“Of course, sir.” When I put my hand on the knob, I note how slippery my palm is and frown at it before pulling the door open.

“Actually, Alik, wait,” Roman says at my back. “I’m gonna be the one to go with him, if you don’t mind, sir. I’d like to personally make sure this gets done to my satisfaction.”

I look over my shoulder at Nikita to see him nod. He doesn’t look like he’s over Roman’s outburst, and I’m sure he’ll find a way to punish him. But for now… Looks like Roman gets to be my punishment.

I head outside without a word to Roman or anyone else in the warehouse we pass, Roman at my heels. When I take out my keys, he knocks them from my hand and passes me.

“Nope. I’m driving.”

My teeth grind.

Truth be told, I don’t get along with many people in the Bratva. Or many people in general. But Roman has never been on my list of people I can even tolerate.

“Just so you’re aware, I regret saving your life back there,” I mutter, bending to pick up my keys.

He laughs and turns to backpedal so he can look at me. “You really think you saved my life?”

I don’t answer as I climb into his passenger seat and stare out the windshield, trying not to think about the princess. About Olive. It doesn’t work, of course, so instead of fighting it, I picture her dead. Her body still, her mouth breathless, her eyes without depth. It should bring me relief, but for some reason, the sight makes me uneasy.

What is happening to me?

“I’m a lieutenant,” Roman says, as if I didn’t already know. What, does he want his ego stroked?

“I’m aware, sir.”

He chuckles and pulls out of the parking lot of our main warehouse. “I’m not saying that so you’ll kiss my ass, dumbass. I’m saying Nikita isn’t going to just kill me.”

“You must not be familiar with the look he gets just before he kills someone. Trust me, he had it with you.”

“Then trust me, he isn’t quite as stupid as you think.”

“I would never call the Pakhan stupid,” I reply automatically. I wouldn’t put it past Roman to be testing my loyalty. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if Nikita put him up to it.

“That doesn’t stop you from thinking it… He doesn’t have all of the Bratva’s loyalty. His leadership can’t handle many people turning at once, and if he kills a lieutenant, he knows he’ll turn their followers.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“ Because ,” he drawls. “You aren’t a lieutenant.”

I shift in the seat when his meaning becomes clear, but I don’t respond. Instead, I stare out the window and watch buildings pass by on the way to my apartment.

“You have to be careful, Alik. You’re valued, but no soldier is allowed mistakes, and it’s highly unlike you to make one. If there’s anything I need to know about this girl, now is the time to tell me.”

A woman walks on the sidewalk up ahead, cell phone attached to her ear and dog leash in hand that extends to a little terrier. Her reddish hair makes me think of Olive from the back, but the floral peacoat and confident gait is so ill-fitting, I’d never mistake the woman for Olive.

“There’s nothing,” I say, my voice low as I stare at the woman.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” I don’t linger on the woman as we pass, letting my eyes move along the sidewalk, but I get the urge to look behind me just to make out her face.

I wonder if Olive will be home, hiding from the world in her apartment. Or if she’ll be out somewhere, lost in a city where we won’t find her tonight.

Why am I hoping for the latter?

Condensation forms on the window from the cold, and I run a clear path down it with my finger. “I want to ask you for something, and you won’t like it because it involves lying to the Pakhan.”

“What is it?” Roman asks.

I rest my head against the seat and close my eyes as I form Olive’s dead image in my mind. I’ve accepted this. It’s fine.

A sigh escapes my lungs. “You can take me to her, but as far as the rest goes… I need to finish this on my own.”