“Alexei and Demitri landed. They’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Carson murmurs from where he’s sitting on the couch opposite me.
“Thanks.”
Lifting a hand, I rub my fingers over my forehead, where a headache is starting to brew.
My father adjusts the lapels of my jacket even though they were fine. His eyes meet mine, and I take my chance to ask, “Let me stay, Papà. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
A caring smile softens his features. “It’s just for two years, my son. Enjoy it while you can because once you join me, there won’t be rest for your soul again. Not until you meet our maker.”
I’ve been working with my father for the past two years, ever since I took my place next to him.
I’ve killed. Fourteen men and one woman.
The woman was the hardest even though she deserved it. Viola was our housekeeper. We caught her selling information about us to whoever was willing to pay the highest fee.
I let out a sigh, then lean in to hug my father. It’s going to kill me to leave him alone in this big house.
My father’s arms wrap securely around me. “Ti voglio bene.”
“Ti voglio bene, Papà,” I tell him I love him too.
The pain is searing, branding the sorrow onto my soul.
I’m caught in my grief until a knock at the door to the quarters we’re staying in pulls me out of it.
The safe house belongs to a contact of Alexei. When we arrived, I had no time to look around because I was too worried about Elena.
Carson gets up to answer the door, and when he opens it, Alexei and Demitri come in.
I rise to my feet as Alexei hugs his younger brother, murmuring, “You did good.”
Then Alexei looks at me, and his expression turns grim enough to make the fucking devil tremble in fear. He stalks over to me, and his arms wrap around me. The hug is hard and fast as he murmurs, “It was quick. He didn’t suffer.”
I nod as I pull back, his words making the rage in my chest intensify. “Just find out who’s behind this.”
“I will,” he promises.
Our eyes lock for a moment, and when I see the loss in his merciless gaze, it offers me comfort to know I’m not the only one grieving my father.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Stop thanking me, you’re going to pay me,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
It works. The corner of my mouth lifts.
Demitri comes to give me a brotherly hug which I accept. He’s not the most talkative person, so I’m not surprised when he doesn’t say anything.
As Demitri steps back, his head snaps to the bedroom. He’s already halfway to the room before I think to say, “It’s Elena Lucas. She’s in there.”
Demitri doesn’t stop but glances into the room, and seemingly satisfied that Alexei’s life isn’t in danger, he turns back to us. The man has been trained to protect Alexei at all costs. It’s admirable, to say the least.
“The private jet is ready. We need to go now,” Alexei informs me.
“Home?” I ask to be sure.
Alexei nods. “If you go into hiding, it will show them they’ve won. You need to take over now.”
I nod, agreeing with him. I also have to arrange for my father’s burial.
The thought is sharp and suffocating. Trying to get away from the sorrow, I put on my jacket as I walk to the bedroom. When I enter, I find Elena sitting on the edge of the bed. She instantly gets up, her eyes darting between me and the doorway.
“Time to go,” I say as I hold my hand out to her.
Elena hesitates, but then she comes to me. Her palm is ice cold when it meets mine, and it makes my fingers wrap tightly around hers. I pull her closer until our bodies are almost touching, and lifting my other hand, I brush my fingers over her cheek.
Fuck. She’s freezing.
Letting go of her hand, I wrap my arms around her, trying to offer her some of my warmth, but instead, I find the comfort I’ve needed since I found out I lost my father.
Closing my eyes, I bury my face in her hair, and I take a deep breath, but then Elena tenses in my hold.
“Just for a minute,” I whisper. “I need this.”
She doesn’t fight me and instead wraps her arms around my waist. It’s exactly what I needed.
God, she even has the power to chase my grief away.
My hold on her tightens, and I savor the peace I find in her arms until Alexei’s voice carries from the living room, “We need to leave.”
Reluctantly, I step away from Elena, and taking her hand, I pull her out of the room. I link our fingers, and we follow the Russian men downstairs to where we left our luggage.