Page 14 of Scarlet Chains
God, what kind of person does that make me?
I press my face into the pillow, but sleep won’t come. It can’t, not when my heart is still tangled up with a killer.
For better or worse.
Chapter Five
Osip
My phone cuts through the silence of the BMW’s interior, and Radimir’s name flashes on the screen.
I consider letting it go to voicemail. I’m not in the mood for my brother’s well-meaning bullshit right now.
But I answer anyway. “What.”
“Bratok.” His voice is careful, measured. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I haven’t slept more than two hours at a stretch since Ilona disappeared. Every time I close my eyes, I see Slava’s face, hear his tiny voice saying “Pa-pa.” Then I imagine Ilona walking off into the distance, taking all hope of a normal life along with her.
“Osip—”
“I said I’m fine, Radimir.”
A pause. “When’s the last time you ate something? Really ate, not just coffee and cigarettes.”
“Christ, you sound like ababushka.” I take the turn toward the construction site too sharply, tires squealing against asphalt. “I don’t need you monitoring my fucking meals.”
“You’re falling apart,bratan.”
The words hit too close to home, so I lash out. “I’m handling my business. The site’s on schedule, the books are clean, and nobody’s dead who shouldn’t be. What more do you want?”
“I want my brother back. Not this ghost who’s been walking around for the past week.”
Ghost.
That’s exactly what I feel like. A shadow of the man who used to give a shit about profit margins and power plays. Now I can barely summon the energy to care about anything beyond the next breath.
“She’s gone, Radimir. Ilona’s gone, Slava’s gone, and I’m done pretending it doesn’t matter.”
“Give her space, Osip.” His voice gentles, the way it used to when we were kids and I’d come home bloody from another fight. “Maybe she’ll call.”
“Space?” The laugh that escapes me is bitter as black coffee. “Why the fuck would she need space? Women don’t just escape you and disappear because they need space. She made up her mind.”
“You don’t know that. She needs time to process. She lost a child too. Maybe she just needs—”
“Bullshit.” I cut him off, my voice raw. “Don’t feed me that therapeutic garbage. She walked away. End of story.”
Another pause, longer this time. “She was scared,brat. Think about what she went through— falling pregnant, then losing the baby, nearly dying. She was overwhelmed.”
“She’s done with me.” The words come out flat, final. “And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe she’s smart enough to know what I am.”
“What you are is my brother. A good man who’s been through hell.”
“A good man doesn’t kill his woman’s father.” The admission slips out before I can stop it.
Radimir’s silence stretches for so long I almost think the call dropped. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet. “You did what you had to do. Shiradze was stealing from us, threatening our operation—”
“He was her father. And yet another life I ended.” I give a snort. “It’s probably better this way. Maybe some part of hersensed it and her self-preservation kicked in. So no, Radimir, she’s not coming back. She’s not calling. She’s not processing. She’s surviving. And that means staying as far away from me as possible.”
