Page 145 of Sins of a King
I swirled my hair up into a bun, out of my way. “I want to see Vlad.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“We have some unfinished business. Will you take me to him?”
Dolinsky looked thoughtful before grasping my hand, leading me out of my bedroom and down the stairs. We took a moment to bundle up before we exited the back of the mansion, tromping across old snow in dying afternoon light to get to the garden shed.
It was a substantial one-room building, cluttered with garden tools, seed, and other gardening odds and ends. Vlad was handcuffed to a thick metal pipe and didn’t look up when we entered. There was a space heater far enough away that he couldn’t get to it, but close enough, so that he wouldn’t freeze to death. Dolinsky clearly wanted to mete out justice on his own terms.
I felt the controlled tension in Dolinsky’s body as he stood next to me. He gazed at the man he had trusted to protect me, not ever realizing Vlad would have turned. I glanced at Dolinsky, silently asking a question. He nodded, giving me his permission.
I faced Vlad. “Look at me,” I demanded, my voice calm, intractable. Vlad glanced up slowly, his face blank except for his eyes. They burned with hatred, desolation, lust.
“Get on with it,” he spat coldly.
“Look at what you tried to do.” I gestured to the violent ring around my neck. “Look what you failed to do.”
Vlad’s jaw tightened and without taking his eyes off me, he addressed Dolinsky. “She will be the death of you, and you don’t even see it.”
Dolinsky opened his coat, extracting a gun. He held it in his hand, effortlessly, like it was a part of him. He pointed it at Vlad.
“Wait,” I said to Dolinsky.
He didn’t lower the gun when he looked at me.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
Dolinsky paused for a long moment. My pulse throbbed in my temples, and I nearly grew lightheaded as I waited for his answer.
Finally, he said, “Yes. I trust you.”
I held out my hand to him, palm flat. Dolinsky lowered his arm and gently placed the gun in my hand. The metal was warm against my skin.
Vlad began to laugh.
Gripping the gun, I raised it and aimed for Vlad’s chest. I heard Dolinsky’s breath catch in his throat and still Vlad continued to laugh, a hysterical maniacal sound.
“You don’t have it in you to be a killer,” Vlad choked.
My breathing slowed; my vision narrowed.
I pulled the trigger.
Chapter 46
Bright lights lit up the gray darkness of the Manhattan skyline, even as winter kept a firm hold on the city. From my vantage point on the balcony of the Battery Park penthouse, I felt like I was living up in the clouds, far away from the world. I shivered as the wind whipped past me.
Arms encircled me and lips that did not belong to my husband grazed my ear. “Why are you out here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted, refusing to lean back into the granite-like chest behind me.
“Nightmares?” His Russian accent was thick but cultured.
I shrugged.
Igor Dolinsky sighed. It was a knowing sigh, a sigh that commiserated, and his arms tightened. “You should not lose sleep over something so inconsequential.”
He referred to the incident that had occurred three days ago—when I shot one of his trusted few in the heart for attempting to strangle me to death. The only reason I was still alive was because of Dolinsky’s other man, Sasha.
