“These are baseless accusations,” my father interjects smoothly. “Yuri acted on his own initiative. I had no knowledge?—”
“Shut the fuck up.” My voice carves right through his lies. “You’ve lost the privilege of speaking in this chamber.”
The room goes deadly quiet. No one has ever spoken to Andrei Akopov this way before. Not in front of the council. Not even me.
I draw my gun from its holster. Without hesitation, without ceremony, I press it to the back of Yuri’s head and pull the trigger.
The gunshot is deafening in the confined space. Yuri crumples forward, blood and matter splattering across the polished floor. Several council members flinch. Others remain stone-faced.
They know the necessity of what’s happening.
I holster my weapon and face the council, Yuri’s blood still warm on my hands. “I’ve shown mercy once,” I announce. “There won’t be a second time.”
My father’s expression is glacial as I outline the new security protocols. From this moment forward, all communications will flow through me. My father will be removed from all operational decisions. His security detail will be replaced with men loyal to me. His movements will be monitored. His contacts restricted.
He will become a prisoner in his own kingdom.
“Anyone found violating these protocols will face the same fate as Yuri,” I conclude. “Any questions?”
Silence answers me. One by one, the council members nod their understanding.
“This meeting is adjourned,” I declare. “Arkady will provide each of you with detailed instructions regarding the new protocols.”
As the men file out, I remain standing, Yuri’s body at my feet. My father is the last to leave, pausing at the door to look back at me.
“You’ve made your choice,” he says quietly.
“No, Father.” I meet his gaze. “You made it for me.”
I spend thirty minutes in the shower when I get home, scrubbing away every trace of blood, every molecule of gunpowder residue. The water runs scalding hot, turning my skin red, but I welcome the pain. It helps me compartmentalize, helps me transition from the monster who executed a man in cold blood to the husband and father waiting for me in the other room.
But some stains don’t wash away so easily.
Rowan is in the nursery when I find her, rocking Sofiya to sleep. The scene is so serene, so pure, it makes my chest ache. How can I deserve this after what I’ve done tonight?
“There you are,” she whispers, looking up with a smile that falters when she sees my face. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I say, keeping my voice light. “Just a long meeting.”
She studies me with those green eyes that see too much, that havealwaysseen too much.
“Vince,” she says softly, “what happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” I cross the room and kiss the top of her head, careful not to disturb Sofiya. “Business matters. Boring stuff.”
But Rowan isn’t fooled. She never is. Her hand reaches up to touch my face, fingers tracing the hard set of my jaw.
“I know that look,” she murmurs. “I haven’t seen it in a while, but I know it.”
I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”
“Vince.” Her voice stops me at the doorway. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We promised no more secrets, remember?”
I look back at my wife.
And I lie to her.
“There’s nothing to tell. Really.” I force a smile. “Get some sleep. I’ll be in shortly.”