Page 94 of Shadows of the Past
I always knew I wouldn’t be there when he finally died, not physically. But that didn’t mean I’d let him leave this world without answering for everything he did to me and the people I’ve loved.
Ilya had done his research and found a compound, A-7—a black market chemical, still experimental, used on heart attack patients in military facilities. Combined with electric shock, it was enough to drag Ivan back from death.
It was a gamble, of course. There was always a chance we’d lose him for good, but I knew it was a risk worth taking.
Somehow, luck was on our side and he survived. His eyes are bloodshot, his body failing. The heart attack and the shocks have left him weak. It’s just a question of how much longer he can hold on. I know what I want to do to him, and after a few minutes, he’ll be more dead than alive, but still, it’s something. I’ll be the last face he sees before he goes to hell.
After I told Akim the device was disabled, we waited for the convoy of children to arrive.
Ivan doesn’t get involved in his favorite activities much anymore due to his poor heart that can’t take it, but every now and then, someone catches his attention. This convoy was the only one this week, and we had to move fast to take advantage of the opportunity.
With a little bit of help, his blood pressure triggered a cardiac episode. He didn’t even have time to pull up his pants before he hit the ground. Akim called the doctor who’s been living on the property for five years, and in less than five minutes, after the defibrillator failed, the doctor declared him dead.
While the doctor made a few calls, Akim injected the compound. Ivan wanted to be cremated, so Akim took his “corpse”—freshly snatched from death—and hid it in this factory. Vasili, an old man who died in a car accident an hour earlier, took Ivan’s place at the crematorium thanks to Ilya, who delivered the body to Akim.
Aleksandr was out of town. Ivan’s lawyer confirmed the death with the doctor, and several soldiers saw Akim carrying Ivan, unconscious but alive, out to the car, supposedly on his way to be cremated.
No one doubted a thing. We needed the doctor to see it with his own eyes, and luckily, he’s old school so he never thought to double-check. At my adoptive father’s age, everyone expected this to happen eventually.
ErestonLabs has kept quiet about the security breach, probably too scared of the fallout if their clients found out how close they came to dying because of a mistake.
And now, here I am, face-to-face with the monster who’s haunted me for over twenty-six years.
“So this means I finally get to watch you bleed out, drop by drop, until your veins stick together,” I say, my voice steady.
“Maksim, let me go. You know you won’t get anything out of this. The inheritance, the accounts, everything disappears if my death looks suspicious,” he says, calm as ever, like he’s scolding a child.
There were so many times I almost gave up. Almost. Because I couldn’t find a way to take him out without raising suspicion.
“Well, good thing your death wasn’t suspicious at all,” I reply, a sly grin spreading across my face.
That’s when I see it: his confidence wavers for the first time. He realizes that whatever god protected him from my wrath has finally abandoned him.
“Officially, you died twenty-four hours ago. I’ll be sure to stop by your grave with some flowers after I’m done here,” I say, my voice nearly trembling with anticipation.
A thousand ideas flash through my mind about how I could cut him, make him scream, make him bleed. But just then, the factory doors swing open, and ten pairs of eyes lock onto us.
I didn’t bring everyone because I didn’t want to draw attention, but I managed to fly in ten of Ivan’s victims.
I catch Mikail’s eye, the first boy I ever saved, now twenty-five. When Akim and I pulled him from that car, he had two broken ribs, a shattered left arm, and his face was so swollen with bruises it looked like it might burst.
Isabella is the second. I rescued her straight off a boat. She’d been taken from an orphanage in Rome, destined for an eighty-year-old degenerate.
I’ll never forget how she trembled, how we spent two hours in the freezing waters of the Moskva River to make sure we weren’t being followed.
One by one, I look at each person in front of me. I know they’re here to reclaim the piece of their soul that was stolen from them.
They all suffered at Ivan’s hands: beaten, cut, raped. Justice isn’t just mine. It’s theirs too. I wanted at least some of them to have this chance.
I don’t need to say anything. They know what’s about to happen. We’re all going to take a piece of him. My hands close around my favorite blade as I step toward the demon who stole every reason I had to live.
“Maksim, think about what you’re throwing away,” he says, and I pause.
He looks weak—his heart probably ready to give out for good. But I just need a little more time.Just a little longer.
This is the moment I’ve waited for, dreamed of, prayed for, held onto when nothing else kept me going. If not for the promise I made to Vera, I’d have been gone long ago.
Ivan swallows hard, but he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t ask for anything. I know his heart could give out at any second, but at least we’ll be the last faces he sees before he finally slips away.
