Page 4 of Merciless Promise
“Who is this man?”
Dread filled me, as did regret. I’d never known how financially taxing my actions that night had been to my family, but I now knew. Still, I refused to even entertain the idea of being sold off like a possession.
“Aram Grigoryan.”
And certainly not to him. “With the AP?”
“Yes. He’ll make a fine husband for you, and we’ll never have to worry about anything else again. His name and title will protect us.”
“I can’t do this, Papa. I won’t.”
“You have to, Katya. You owe this to me for what I had to do for you.”
“I would have preferred you let me rot in an American prison than sell me off to someone who’ll keep me in an Armenian one. I’m not marrying Aram. Not now, or ever.”
“He’ll kill me, then torture and force you to bend to his will anyway. If you go in willingly, you can salvage your pride and my life.”
“I'm sorry. This is something I'm unable to do. Even for you.” I hung up, my heart racing. I was shaking because there was much truth to his words. Aram would take me and force me into subservience. He’d likely force me to bear his children, then lock me away for the rest of my days.
I won’t do it.
I can’t do it.
If I didn’t want to be forced into matrimony to a tyrant even older than my father, I needed to get out of Russia, and as quickly as I could. For all I knew, the man could be on his way now to get me. Realizing my night plans were now ruined, I canceled on my friends, then scrolled through my contact list until I found the one person who might be able to help me. There was a considerable time distance between us, but I pressed the call button.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Cold, dead eyes stared back at me, and for a moment, it was as if I was looking into a mirror. The only evidence I had to convince me otherwise was that my blood was still burning its way through my veins while the man on the ground in front of me was lying in a puddle of crimson. His throat had been slit from one side to the other, and he was as cold and hard as my still beating heart. I looked down at the bastard, and I realized in that moment he was exactly what I felt.
Nothing!
Being honest, I hadn’t felt anything in a while. The demons of my world had long since gotten me in their talons, and I was still paralyzed mentally. One singular event had changed everything. My brother was gone, much like my father and mother. The former was the hardest to deal with, and a part of me had died alongside him.
I’d never been one who lived for the thrill of the kill, and I’d feel the rush dissipate as soon as my target was vanquished, as this one was. No matter how many men I’d taken down, the one I wanted to kill was still free to live her life. One of these days, herluck would run out, and I’d be there to fulfill my solemn vow. For now, it was basically me following my grandfather’s order.
This time, I had to chase my prey, and I did. The executed man was thousands of miles away from his home in Harrison, New York, close to the Texas/Mexico line. After he’d fled to Mexico, I’d tracked him throughout the country. Once he’d re-entered the States, I’d made him pay.
Nothing!
Again, it was what I felt, the hollowness of victory doing little for my mental state. Jobs like this had become more frequent. There was a mob war going on in the States and abroad. Our very own empire was now down to three bosses at the top. There was my cousin, my grandfather, and I who still orchestrated the entire organization. Grandfather was getting up there in age, though. Sooner or later, he’d have to step aside, and I needed to be sure I was ready once he did.
Back in my youth, I’d envisioned the day when it would be Princeton and me at the top, ruling the kingdom together. Like most dreams, that one could never come true now. After scandal rocked our family, it had the potential to derail everything generations of Brannington men had built. And at the hands of a Kotov—a sworn enemy, mostly in Europe, but one nonetheless. Only now, Ekaterina was one for more than simply her lineage.
There was still time to plot vengeance on her, and I would. For now, I needed to make sure to leave the scene clean, and once that was done, I left to go shower at the hotel. Several hours later, I had made it back to New York completely jet-lagged, but as determined as ever.
Popping open a beer, my cell phone rang, breaking up the silence. Ignoring it, I took a long swig from the bottle, then used the back of my hand to wipe the few errant drops off my lips. The caller was persistent, and grabbing what was left of the bottle,along with the cellphone, I sat down on my couch and stretched my legs out in front of me.
I’d always loved the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows in this particular loft. It was in a renovated industrial space, and the sight in front of me was well worth all the money I’d spent purchasing the unit. I closed my eyes and thought back over the last few days. Tonight’s execution had been one of the easiest ones for me in a while. I’d stealthily trailed the target before grabbing him by the throat with my gloved hand.
From there, I’d dragged him into the darkness, which became his entry to hell. He’d tried to fight me off, but he was no match for my strength. I’d used my foot to fully neutralize him, and as soon as he fell to his knees, terrified eyes stared up at me.
“Who are you?”
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare,”I’d responded.“I’m going to enjoy watching your last breath leave your worthless body.”
“No, there has to be some?—”
I cut him off when I’d grabbed him by the hair, then placed the blade against his throat.“Any last words? If so, now’s your chance to get them out.”
