Page 77 of Filthy Lies

She nods, clutching Sofiya tighter. I watch them disappear into the vestry with Arkady before pulling my gun and moving toward the main entrance.

Dimitri’s voice crackles through my earpiece. “Perimeter secured, boss. We intercepted them at the gates. Six hostiles down. Three captured.”

“Casualties on our side?”

“Two injured. Nothing fatal.”

“Hold positions. I’m coming out.”

The scene outside is barely-tethered chaos. My men have established a defensive perimeter around the church. Two black SUVs with shattered windshields are stopped at awkward angles near the entrance. Bodies lie motionless on the pavement.

Dimitri approaches, blood splattered across his white dress shirt. “We got them before they reached the door.”

“The guests?”

“Secure inside. No civilians harmed.”

I scan the scene, counting bodies, assessing the damage. Something doesn’t add up.

“This was sloppy,” I say. “The Solovyovs are better than this.”

“Maybe they got desperate.”

“Or maybe they wanted to be caught.” I approach one of the captured men. He’s zip-tied to a fence post, blood trickling from a head wound.

I recognize him. Marat Solovyov. Not a foot soldier, but a lieutenant. A made man. Someone who shouldn’t be on a suicide mission.

“Fancy seeing you here, Marat,” I say, crouching to his level. “Came to celebrate my daughter’s christening?”

He spits blood onto the pavement. “Fuck you, Akopov.”

“You know, I expected better from the Solovyovs. This attack was amateur. Predictable.” I press the barrel of my gun under his chin. “Almost like you wanted to fail.”

Fear flames in his eyes.

“Who sent you?” I demand.

“You know who.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

He grins through bloody teeth. “Your time is over, Akopov. The old alliances are shifting.”

Movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. I turn slightly to see my father emerging from the church, flanked by his guards. He surveys the scene with no reaction whatsoever.

Our eyes meet briefly before he turns away. Something about his posture, his timing, raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

When I glance back at Marat, I see that he’s looking in the exact same direction I just was.

Something about that doesn’t sit right, either.

I stay frozen in place, watching as my father adjusts his suit and walks away as if nothing happened. He returns to his guards, who escort him back toward the church.

Arkady appears beside me, silent as a ghost. “Rowan and Sofiya are secure.”

“Good.” I’m still frowning, though. “Arkady… tell me you saw that.”

“I did.” He follows my gaze to Andrei’s retreating form. “Looks like our suspicions were right.”

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