Page 85 of The Tsar's Obsession
“Here’s my card with my number if you can't reach her. If you need to get a message to her through me, do so. Don't fuck this up." Viv dropped her card on the coffee table, but I stayed silent, mindlessly staring at the same spot.
Ever since it happened, I spent day and night wondering how that chain landed in her hands. Foolishly, I kept it locked in the bottom drawer of my desk at home. That fateful day, I returned home and checked the drawer, but it was locked, not tampered with. None of the contents had been moved except that chain. I knew Mia wouldn’t go snooping around my desk; no, she must have found it accidentally, coming across it easily.
And then I saw the jewelry drawer open in our room and deduced that she somehow found it among her own things, but how on earth did this chain get in there? No one entered our home besides her and me.
Our home.Every thought was ripping my heart open. I was so tired. Tired of death, tired of keeping it all under control. I wanted none of it; I only wanted Mia. There was no point to life, no point to anything without her.
Trying to die didn’t work. The nicotine and starvationhadn’t killed me, only made me winded and weak. A few days after Viv’s visit, I forced myself through the motions. Shower. Shave. Chew something I couldn’t taste. I forced myself to live.
The whole building hushed with my arrival at the office. My heavy footsteps ascended the marble steps, all my men scattering into corners. I swung the door open to my office, and there was Dmitry, sitting atmydesk. What the fuck was he doing here?
“You alright?” His non-greeting only annoyed me further.
No, I wasn’t fucking alright. When did he turn so American to start a conversation off like that? He looked so well rested and calm.
“How’s Polina?” I had no energy to engage with his fake pleasantries and moved on to more pressing issues. There was no positive news about her, and we were still in the dark about what happened. The lack of any clear answers was threatening to pop an artery in my brain at this point.
“The same. She still hasn’t woken up. We still don’t know why she was at the safe house and who was behind it, but,” He paused his story as I slumped down on my chair thathewas just sitting at and sifted through whatever he was looking at. He eyed me with caution, like I might explode. “One of our crews in Brooklyn switched allegiances. They’re working with the Italians again. And we have problems in Boston,” he informed me and waited for an answer, like I was a magician and could make everyone’s problems go away.
“So? Fix it. Clean house.” His little scoff got my attention.“Is there a problem?” I was ready to murder someone—and he just might be the guy.
“No. No problem,boss.” The sarcasm grated against my last nerve. “I’ll handle it. Since you can’t handle anything when you’re not getting your dick wet.”
I thought I heard wrong, but Dmitry stared me down from his height, as if challenging me. He leaned across my desk with his hands, his voice low and defiant. “Our men are getting hit left, right, and center. And you can’t pull yourself together over abreakup? Get your fucking head on straight, Kirill.” He stared through me, his disrespect impossible to ignore. I knew my next actions might be irreparable, so I breathed in and out, calming down my anger.
I was a patient man. I thought I was fair. But once provoked, there was no fucking stopping me, and I hated when that version of me came out.
“Speak freely,brother,” I encouraged, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Four men were taken out. All of them were set to meet us.” He listed off their last names. The same names thathehimself left on my desk months ago. The ones whohetold me were openly defying me. Oh yeah, I forgot I got Vova on their trail. Everything fell by the wayside after Mia and I became one.
“That’s perfect. I’m glad someone can do their fucking job around here.” I dismissed him and refocused on the shit on my desk, wishing it would all just go up in flames.
But Dmitry didn’t move; he was frozen in his half-bent position, his expression changing into one of pure rage. “You’ve gone mad,” he concluded quietly. “Youfucking ordered their hits?! Yourownmen? Are we all next? You planning to bury everyone until there’s no one left?!”
He exploded, and my hand twitched. One bullet between his eyes—that’s all it would take. “You can’t fucking think logically anymore!" Dmitry shouted. "What, one woman made you soft? Made you stupid?" My fingers grasped the handle, and I saw fucking red. He leaned in, taunting, "One fucking pussy altered your–"
I shot up to my feet, the gun in my hand pointing right at his forehead. His eyes widened, and I knew he regretted his outburst. “Get on your fucking knees,” I ordered, the rage monster fully awake inside me now.
I was going to fucking kill him. I was going to fucking end it all, burn it all to the fucking ground, give it all up. And then she would come back to me.
I took a step closer, and he hesitated, putting up his hands infront of him and trying to backpedal, but it was too late. “Get on yourfilthyfucking knees,”I seethed, my logical thoughts barely coming online. Was I really going to kill him? For what? Because I was angry, heartbroken, and guilt-ridden?
He obeyed. He knew his fucking place. Everyone was beneath me. Except her.
The cold steel met his forehead, and he didn’t flinch or resist. But he wasn’t ready to meet death; I saw it in his eyes. The same eyes that cried when he got his first tattoo. It was too painful for him, but I suspected it was because he knew the kind of savage animal he was becoming. He was just a weak and hurt little boy, always searching for protection and connection. He just wanted to belong, to be accepted. And he and I achieved great things together; there was no way to deny that.
I should have pulled the trigger. Would have, if it were anyone else. “You speak about her one more time, and I will paint the wall with your brains.”
I spared his life; my demons were only for me to deal with. Without another word, he slowly rose to his feet and walked out, leaving me alone.
Alone.
I was alone to resolve all the issues in my life. Alone in the oversized office, holding onto my phone and asking God for Mia to call me.
Without thinking, I dialed her again, but it didn’t even ring. Her phone was turned off, or she had blocked my number. I didn’t know why I called every day; she wanted nothing to do with me.
So, I did what any insane person would do; I went to see her.
