Page 26 of Shadows of the Past
In this life, fighting isn’t always an option. Sometimes, you have to submit and that’s what we did. At least that’s what they think we did. They’ll learn otherwise soon enough when they take their last breaths and my eyes are the last thing they see before they knock on hell’s door.
“She’s got talent with a machine gun,” Akim says with a chuckle.
I shake my head at him because he’s not wrong. Somehow, from day one, I’ve associated her with a machine gun, a force of chaos unleashed in a single burst of firepower, and Julia seems capable of causing exactly that kind of destruction.
Sometimes, I swear I can hear her brain plotting how she’ll blow this place to pieces when she gets out of here. She’d been through horrors before she even arrived, but there’s still hope for her. She’ll need every bullet in her arsenal to escape this place alive, but if anyone can do it, it’s her.
“Tomorrow I need to leave for Dublin. Keep an eye on her,” I say to Akim, who nods silently. Without another word, I climb onto my motorcycle. In a few hours, I have to be at the casino, and it’s better to go with a clear head.
I hadn’t planned on driving a knife into Aleksandr’s hand, but when he called her a whore, the same insult he’d used against Vera, it made me see red. Still, I had to restrain myself. Ivan won’t reprimand me for it even though Aleksandr is his blood nephew. For Ivan, displays of violence are simply proof of strength.
I head to one of the backup apartments I keep in Moscow for situations like this, places to crash when I need to stay in the city. As expected, a suit is already waiting for me there. Carmen is finishing up her cleaning routine even though this place is barely lived in.
“A gentleman left your suit here. Maksim, you’re going to be the most handsome man there,” she says with a warm smile.
I don’t respond; I just nod. Even at seventy, Carmen insists on helping me clean this place and refuses to leave until everything is spotless.
I know her stubbornness stems from gratitude, but I’m still not used to her presence. Aleksandr had set his sights on herniece, and I managed to get the girl out of town before he could lay a hand on her. Since then, Carmen has been a constant presence in my life, showing up daily despite my protests. Sometimes she even stocks the fridge with food. When I told her it wasn’t necessary, she simply replied, “In case you end up here and get hungry.”
I glance at myself in the mirror and can’t help but think how mismatched I look in this suit. Oil and water would blend better than me and a tuxedo.
By the time I arrive at the casino, my mind has cleared. I scan the room, taking in every exit and watching the clients mingling around the poker tables. This isn’t a place for small bets; just walking through the door costs one hundred thousand dollars, and no one here plays for pocket change. Ivan’s entry fee is set at a million dollars, but mine is two—just to provoke him.
In one corner of the room, sipping on cognac, sits the man I came here for.
“Ilya,” I murmur as I approach him discreetly. He knows time is short; Ivan can’t catch me talking to Moscow’s pakhan.
“My informant is dead,” he says quietly but firmly. “All we found was his head in a forest outside the city.”
Damn it.
For over a year now, Ilya and I have been trying to infiltrate Ivan’s inner circle. Despite being his heir, I’m not privy to everything he does, and something tells me his operations have expanded significantly in recent years. Too many children are falling into his grasp, and my adoptive father’s unnerving calm only fuels my suspicions.
I glance at Ilya, the youngest pakhan in decades, and think about his father’s legacy. His father was deeply involved in auctions organized by Ivan years ago, a grim revelation thatrecently came to light for Ilya. He’s been trying to intervene ever since but has run into the sheer power of Ivan’s network.
When Ilya took over his father’s position last year, he reached out to me, and we’ve been working together ever since, searching for ways to gather intel and dismantle this operation from within.
Killing Ivan outright isn’t an option, at least not yet. If his death looks suspicious, I’d be the first person questioned. That wouldn’t be the real problem; losing access to his inheritance would be catastrophic. All the documents, accounts, and connections tied to his empire will fall into my hands after his death, and I need them if I’m going to end this nightmare.
“I hear you’ve taken on a new project,” Ilya remarks casually, though there’s an edge of irritation beneath his calm tone. “A bit reckless, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t need to spell it out, because I know what he means: Julia was an impulsive decision. If Ivan starts noticing that I’m growing attached again, all the ground I’ve gained over the years could slip away in an instant. It took countless bodies and beatings to prove I have what it takes to take the reins. As long as Ivan sees blood on my hands, I doubt he’ll care about anything else. Still, he’s been having some private meetings with the family doctor, and I need to figure out what’s going on with him. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I won’t have to find another way to deal with him after all.
Ilya swirls the cognac in his glass, silent for a few moments. Finally, he speaks.
“I’ll see what I can find out about the doctor. And Maksim?” He levels me with a sharp look. “Try not to die in the meantime. I’d keep an eye on that cousin of yours.”
With that, he walks off toward his brother.
When Ilya first contacted me, I was convinced it was one of Ivan’s loyalty tests. It wouldn’t have been the first—or the last. If he hadn’t confessed his real motives, I wouldn’t have believed him. But everyone has their reasons for doing what they do.
He’s looking for someone. I’m looking to burn that entire house of horrors to the ground.
“Aaaah, Maksim,” a familiar voice interrupts my thoughts. Pavel, Aleksandr’s right-hand man, draws my attention as he approaches.
Like his boss, Pavel is a waste of oxygen, and nothing would bring me more satisfaction than driving all four of my knives into him at once.Soon, Maksim. Soon.
He stops just short of me, taking a cautious step back. He knows who he’s dealing with, he knows everything he’s done, and he knows that, one day, his time will run out. But that doesn’t stop him from talking.
