Page 170 of Filthy Lies

I think of Rowan, of the life we’re trying to build. My daughter is out there. Sofiya Akopov, innocent and perfect, untouched by the darkness that defines her father and grandfather. There is blood on my hands, pain in my past, graves that I dug myself—but does she have to be touched by those things?

No.

I do it for her.

So that she does not have to.

And after all, what’s one more sin in a lifetime of them?

“Goodbye, Father,” I say softly.

His expression shifts from contempt to fear. “Vincent, wait?—”

I shake my head.

Then I pull the trigger.

63

ROWAN

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the world ends.

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Andrei Akopov’s body hitting the floor in Vince’s study doesn’t sound like the momentous event it is. Just a soft thud, a gentle exhale as the last breath leaves his lungs.

I stand in the doorway, having followed Vince and Andrei against my better judgment, my hand pressed against my mouth to stifle any scream that might escape. I watch my husband kill his father, and I don’t say a word.

Some women would run screaming from the room. Some would vomit. Some would call the police.

But I’m not “some women.”

I’m Rowan fucking Akopov.

And as I watch the blood pool beneath my father-in-law’s head, all I feel is a vicious, savage relief.

Vince and I lock eyes across the corpse. His are cold, emotionless. He doesn’t apologize.

“Get Dimitri,” he rasps. “Tell him to bring cleaning supplies. And Rowan—” He pauses. “Make sure no one comes near this room.”

I nod and go to do as my husband said.

The party continues in blissful ignorance for another hour before the whispers start.Andrei went in but never came out. Where is the elder Akopov? What happened in that study?

By morning, it’s a full-blown crisis.

“You understand how this looks, don’t you?” Agent Carver paces Vince’s office, his immaculate suit at odds with the chaos of the situation. “Andrei publicly threatens to expose your FBI cooperation. You two have a private meeting. He disappears.” He stops, hands on his hips. “And now, his car is found abandoned at the docks, with blood in the trunk.”

The blood was my idea. A calculated risk, using some of what we cleaned from the study floor. Just enough to suggest violence but not death. Enough to make it look like a kidnapping, not a murder.

Vince remains seated, one ankle crossed over his knee, the very picture of relaxed confidence. “You’re jumping to conclusions, Agent Carver.”

“Am I?” Carver’s eyes thin out into angry slits. “Because it sounds to me like you eliminated a problem. The same kind of ‘problem-solving’ our agreement was supposed to prevent.”

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