Three betrayals in as many days. My wife fled with my daughter. My best friend pointed a gun at my skull. My father orchestrated it all.
Yet, somehow, I’m still standing.
The rage inside me isn’t hot anymore. It’s gone arctic—a frozen wasteland where nothing grows and nothing lives. This kind of cold burns worse than fire ever could.
“I figured I’d find you up here.” Arkady’s voice disturbs the silence as he steps onto the rooftop behind me.
I don’t turn around. “Come to finish the job?”
His footsteps stop. “That’s fair.”
When I finally face him, he looks like shit. Eyes bloodshot, face haggard, shoulders slumped under the weight of his shame.
Good. Let him carry it.
Arkady sighs, looks out at the treeline. “The FBI ultimatum expires in ten hours. We need a plan.”
“Fuck the FBI,” I spit. “They’re insignificant compared to this.”
“Is that what you’re going to tell Rowan? That you’d rather deal with your daddy issues than keep yourself out of prison and around for Sofiya?”
I whip toward him, coffee cup dropping from my hand to shatter on the concrete. “Choose your next words very carefully.”
But he’s right. Goddamn him, he’s right.
Personal vendettas have to wait. My daughter needs me free and breathing, not imprisoned or bleeding out in some abandoned warehouse because I couldn’t control my thirst for revenge.
“We stick to the plan,” I grit out finally. “Give Carver enough to satisfy him. Deal with my father later.”
Fuck, that hurt to say. Delaying my vengeance is almost as painful as the betrayal itself.
“It’s the right call,” Arkady says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
And that’s when it happens.
We both notice a commotion in the trees. Doves and pigeons, spooked by something, go squawking into the air.
Arkady moves before I do. He pushes me backwards as his eyes bulge, and “Vin!”, and?—
BOOM.
The crack of a rifle echoes across the morning air. Arkady’s body jerks violently beside me, a spray of crimson exploding from his chest as he staggers backward.
For one suspended moment, I don’t understand what I’m seeing.
Then reality crashes down.
That bullet was meant for me.
I dive for Arkady, dragging him behind the rooftop air conditioning unit as a second shot ricochets off the concrete where I stood milliseconds before.
“Fuck!” I press my hands against the wound in his chest. His blood seeps through my fingers like it’s determined to escape him. “SECURITY!” I bellow toward the door. “SNIPER ON THE EAST PERIMETER!”
Arkady’s eyes are wide, mouth working silently as he gasps for air that won’t come. A bubble of blood forms between his lips, pops.
“Stay with me,” I command. “Don’t you fucking die on me. Not now.”
Alarms blare throughout the compound. Guards pour onto the roof, weapons drawn. Rowan’s panicked voice calls from somewhere below.