I’ll take the heat so they can get away. If he kills me, so be it.
What do I have to live for, anyway?
The propellers hit me with rapid gusts of wind until they power down. I stand frozen as the doors open… And out hops the man I’d been hoping never to see again as long as I live.
Antonio Russo, the corrupt Governor of New York.
Followed by two big guys in black suits, he strides over to me just as the others are emerging from their cover. My face whips around and I see my friends with their hands up, Kent and Paulino following close, guns drawn on them.
Shit.
“Well, well… Look at this,” Russo says with a smirk. “If this is the kind of shit going on out here, no wonder Blanco’s been dodging me for weeks.”
My jaw is clenched so tight, my teeth are snapping. Russo strides closer to me, and his men drop their hands onto their weapons.
He squints past me. “Dascha Reznikov… You look well. That’s unfortunate.”
Dash scowls, but says nothing.
Russo glances at me, head cocking. “Where’s Manuel?”
“He’s in the mansion, sir…” Kent answers, sounding as exhausted as he looks. “If you’ll come with me—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he barks. “I’ve already lost nearly an hour circling this damn island because there’s conveniently another chopper in our landing spot. Bring him here.Now.” He folds his arms over his chest. “I’ll wait.”
Kent lowers his gun a bit, nodding at Paulino, who turns and darts back into the woods, in the direction of the mansion.
It’s wild to consider, but this prick actually seemsworsethan The Ivory, which I didn’t think was possible. I always thought Manuel Blanco bent to no one. But Governor Russo is acting likehe’sEl Jefe…
I wonder how The Ivory would feel about that.
Russo circles me, like a fucking shark, eyeing me all the while. I glance behind me at my friends once more, all of whom are just standing stock still, eyes wide with fright.
“You thought I’d forgotten about you… didn’t you,Byron Kang?” he growls.
Harnessing all of the wrath inside me, I square my shoulders and grunt, “No. I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Hm…” He makes a displeased sound. “You know, at first, I was hoping Blanco would unleash some of that Grade-A sicko shit on you. After what you did to my son, you deserve nothing less.”
My jaw tics.
“But I suppose it doesn’t matter. The mere fact that you’ve been rotting here for years, with eternity on the horizon, is enough for me. And for Michelangelo.”
Hearing his name kicks something on, like a backup power source in my brain; igniting my spinal cord, sizzling volts through my muscles and tendons. Myeverymolecule is lit up with thatsweetfucking fury.
I step forward, ignoring the men in my peripheral, guns in hand. “Is he happy?”
Governor Russo’s gaze goes momentarily puzzled. “What?”
“Michelangelo…” I hum. “Is hehappy?”
“Of course he is,” he hisses. “He’s a strong and resilient man.Youcould never break him.”
“Well… no. I couldn’t.” I purse my lips. “Not in any way he didn’t want.”
Russo’s mouth sets in a line, eyes hardening.
“Is he seeing anyone?”