22. DANYA

To see someone else save Sutton from the pit wasn't what I'd wanted, or even intended on happening. I didn't know how to free him, but I knew I should've been the one to do so.

Mikhail's stressed voice came out from inside, spitting and angered by the power cut. I headed over to the shack before he could spot me.

I became a man here. In and out of this place, seeing how the sausage was made of the family business. The torture, the murder, the blood splashed across the stone. It was everything I loved to see, but when Sutton was here, I wished my family had business in something else.

From the open latched door leading underground, I saw the two bodies of his guards laid on top of each other. The ruby red blood from the bullet shot into their heads spilled out across the stone floor, making its way into the drain. It was a glorious thing to see. Again, something else I should've done, the way they'd threatened Sutton had my stomach on edge. He was a whirlwind the way he'd come into my life, and yet, I couldn't help feel for him.

In my pocket, I felt the USB I'd taken back from the computer. I didn't understand what was so important about it. It was baby pictures, perhaps Sutton had gotten into it, replaced the contents, and was allowing me to find it for myself like there had never been any money in there to begin with.

"What have you got yourself involved with?" I grumbled. I'm sure it was also the question that Sutton had been asking himself as well. "Or who. Who was he?" I didn't catch anything about him. Black suit covered in armor, nothing making much sense about it. Perhaps the person behind the texts. It was impossible to tell. He looked dangerous enough to not hide behind a computer.

"What did you do?" Mikhail's obnoxious voice came from above me at the top of the stairs.

I was still assessing the two bodies on the floor. Close range attacks. No hesitation with the way they were executed on the spot. I admired it. "It wasn't me. Someone came in and got the boys."

He spat a little. "Fuck. Well, the day has to continue. My sister is getting married. Nothing will stop it now."

The lights flickered on, and I saw the full extent of the blood. "We should drink to your fallen comrades," I suggested, trying my best to prolong what seemed like an inevitability. "I have vodka." I knew exactly where there was a bottle here. A loose brick in the wall, and there it was, the cold bottle of spirit.

"You're right," he said, stepping into the pit and over the bodies on the floor. "We have a lot to celebrate today, even with all the shit."

There were two glasses by the grungy sink in the corner. It was rarely used for anything but cleaning the blood of the tiles. And they were only cleaned in the warmer months since the heat made them start to smell.

Rinsing the glasses out, I watched Mikhail examine the bottle without a label. He twisted the screw top and stuck his nose into it. "Huh," he grumbled. "It doesn't have a smell."

"It has a taste though," I said. "And you'll feel it, trust me, it's like a punch in the face sometimes."

"Oof," Mikhail raised the bottle in the air toward the lightbulb. "It's incredibly clarified. Is it homemade?"

"Something like that," I said. "Let's pour." I placed the wet glasses on the tile. "Ah. I'll do the honors. You're the one with men who have fallen."

He nodded, handing me the bottle. "And then we must go back upstairs. My sister is still messing around with the dress. We flew in someone special to have it perfect. I also want you smiling on these pictures. Smiling big. Not fake smile. If it's a fake smile, I can't say you'll live long."

Without even a drink in him and he was already spilling his guts. I wanted to know more about his father. I knew he had it in him to kill family in cold blood, so there wasn't anything here to say he wouldn't slit my throat the moment I stopped serving any use. "What is your plan?" I asked, pouring shot amounts into each glass. It was strong.

Mikhail didn't even wait for me to grab my glass before a Russian cheer, a clink to my glass still on the table and then down it went. He stumbled back a little, kicking the men with his heel. "Oh shit. That is strong," he laughed.

I didn't take a drink of mine. I sucked on my teeth, pretending that I had. "Mhmm, fuck."

"Another," he said.

"Perfect," I said, pouring out another shot into his glass and pretending to add more to mine. "So, a toast to the celebration of the wedding."

"To the wedding," he said, taking back the shot. He took that with a little more dignity than the other shots of vodka. It was funny to watch him take the shots and then stumble a little, trying to keep his composure. "I'll need the recipe for this."

"You've got it," I said, pretending once more to take my shot and then sucking on my teeth. "Now, let's also drink to good health."

Another shot.

"And to prosperity," I said. "Money. Riches. Freedom."

Mikhail toasted to it, laughing to himself. "Freedom," he said. "Sure."

There was a drunk redness in Mikhail's eyes, almost like he was holding back. I knew it wouldn't' take him much more shots of vodka before he was on the floor, and I could lock him in here. I needed to get back there, and I had to head out. I was gonna be a runaway groom and escape from all of this.

"Maybe we should drink to your father's death," I said, my teeth clenching.

"You know," Mikhail said, holding onto the counter with all his might. "I killed him happily. A smile on my face. I partied all night when it happened. That man was a mess. Every single little thing about that man was a mess."

"A mess?" I asked. He clearly hadn't seen the way his son drank. "Is that why you killed him?"

He didn't even get the entirety of the vodka shot in his mouth that time around, most of it missed his mouth. I didn't know if he was ready to drop, or perhaps a gentle push on his shoulder would have him toppling over the men. I could only hope.

"I killed him because he couldn't get what we wanted," he said. "He was bankrolling your family for years, and all because you were washing is money. He didn't want to come in and take over. You—you had the chance to accept our proposal for marriage five years ago. That was declined." He spat. A sloppy string of saliva falling from his chin.

"That didn't happen," I said. "Your family never approached us about marriage."

"You," he snorted. "You're like you are, of course, your father didn't force you into it. That's why I had to."

I pushed the glass closer to him. "What are you saying?"

"It took us five years to figure out how to do it," Mikhail said, swaying side-to-side, his body getting lower and hunched as he leaned over the counter. "Five years of plans. And there was no way you could decline it."

"Decline the marriage?" I asked, my heart rate ringing in my ears. I needed him to get to the point of it all.

"We loaned that boy, the hacker, cheap too, he stole our money from you, planting you as responsible, and your little boyfriend," he snorted, stumbling back, he landed on both men. "Your family never had any idea of what was happening, and still felt like they were to blame, we stolen our money from you, and then asked you to pay the price of marriage." He laughed, becoming uncontrolled as he found it funnier, and I was dotting everything together, finally making some sense of it.

"What?"

"All you had to do was say yes, and your family could've stayed in charge, all I required was your marriage to my sister," he said, holding out a hand. "You have no choice anymore. Look. Your family are my prisoners."

Smiling, I couldn't help see the irony of the situation. He was the one on the floor, holding out his hand to me, and I was the one in power. I hadn't touched a drop of this potent vodka solution, mostly used to clean the tools, not equipped for being held in the stomach.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back, enough to punch him in the face, knocking him out back on top of the two men.

He'd admitted to setting this entire thing in motion. It connected several dots. The only thing I was confused about now was the USB that Sutton had found inside of the sandwich, and how it only contained baby pictures.

Tying Mikhail's hands together, if I could get rid of him, then the head of the Sokolov snake was gone, but that also meant part of the family's business, which was washing money for the Sokolov family was gone.

"You're gonna rot here," I told his unconscious body as I pushed him against the wall. "That depends on what your sister has to say, and what you have to offer. I'll head back into that house with—" I looked behind and spotted the untouched guns on his bodyguards. "Those guns, and I'll kill the rest of your men until it's you and your sister, and to have only one kill, an old man under your belt, I'm not expecting your threats to be good." I grinned, smacking his cheek with the side of my hand.

It was now or never. I grabbed both the handguns from the men and left the pit, locking the door behind myself. I wouldn't let anyone find him before it was time.

Strutting across the yard with purpose back to the main house, I made a direct line over the flowers to the door. From my calculations, there were four men inside, six total, but two of them had been taken out for me.

At the door, I looked to the gate that went out onto the drive. I could've left, and had my family face the repercussions. After everything, I still had some loyalty to these people who were willing to let me be sold into a marriage, and all for something they didn't believe. Mikhail had admitted it to me, the broad strokes of his sordid plan to get his fingers into my family, and then while he was there, he could cement his family in New York.

My loyalty was always to my family first, even if they hadn't been completely loyal to me, but why would they? I wasn't taking over when my father died or stepped down. I was most likely the first to be thrown off the books the moment my brother took over. So, why should I save them now?

Because guilt would eat me alive, fucking guilt.

I headed inside, a big smile on my face. I was soon to be wed; this should've been the happiest day of my life.

A guard approached me, stopping me in the hallway.

He hadn't seen the gun in my hand as I tucked it into the back of my slacks. They weren't belted, so the gun could've slipped right through the leg. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Have you seen the boss?" he asked, his voice was deep. "His sister needs him."

With one swift move, I grabbed him, wrapping an arm around his neck. I choked him out until he was limp on the floor. I should've killed him, but there was still time for that.

A head appeared out of a doorway. My sister, Evelina with her wicked smile. "What are you doing?"

I heard Anastasia's voice call out from within the room. I held a finger to my mouth, gesturing for her to keep quiet about this.

She closed the door. "Danya," she whispered, approaching me. "What do you think you're doing? Please, whatever you think you're doing, don't, you're gonna get us all killed." She rolled her eyes at me.

"Actually, I'm saving us," I said. "Mikhail is knocked out tied in the pit."

"Shut up," she scoffed. "What is going on in that head?"

My teeth grit. "Eva, they killed their father, they're the head of the Sokolov family now, and we've got them where we need them. Go get mother, ask for that tea, give it to Ana, knock her out like that." I snapped my fingers. "I'll deal with the three men upstairs."

"You're gonna get us all killed," she said.

A simple thank you would've been fine, I would do it, but only because I knew the truth now. None of this was my fault. It was a targeted attack on my family. Sutton had been collateral, and I'd find him later.