“Because,” he sputtered, “I’ve been loyal to you from day one.”
“You want to know what I hate more than traitors?” I stepped closer to him, a gun lax in my hand. “Liars.”
“I’ve never lied to you.” His gaze flicked to the right exactly like a liar’s would. “Catch me in a lie, and I swear, I’ll let you shoot me in the head right here!”
“Hmm,” I drawled. “We’ll get to that.”
My eyes slid to the other two men, the son and nephew. One of them was just released from prison for raping a housewife. If I did background checks before recruiting, I wouldn’t have a single employee to my name, including myself. The men both flicked subtle glances at Abram, clearly the lackeys in his master plan.
“So you didn’t have anything to do with poisoning the Mikhailov collateral in my home?”
“What!” Abram had the audacity to act shocked. “Of course not!”
A dark chuckle escaped me. “Your acting skills could use some work.”
“I don’t know how I got wrapped up in the middle of this, but if it was the whore beside me who gave you our names, you should know, she’s just trying to take us down with her.”
“You mean, your daughter,” I corrected, gaze flicking to the girl who held her arm to her stomach like it needed support.
“She isn’t my daughter,” he spat. “Especially after this.”
I ignored the words. “Do you beat your daughter often?”
Something in my eyes made him lie again. “Nyet. She’s just a slut who likes it rough.”
I let the ridiculousness of his statement fill the air for a moment. My boots crunched in the snow as I walked toward the girl and stopped in front of her.
“Are you? A slut who likes it rough?”
She didn’t lift her eyes as she shook her head. Her papa’s face reddened, and then he kicked her leg, spitting an enraged accusation at her. With a whimper, she dropped to the ground. A hot rush of irritation expanded inside me. I kicked Abram’s knee so hard a crack sounded, and as he fell, my boot slammed into his face, planting him on his back in the snow. He groaned, blood spurting from his nose.
“If you do that to your daughter in front of me,” I growled, “I’d hate to see what you do to her behind closed doors.”
“I don’t do nothing to the girl!”
He’d just admitted his guilt with the double negative. I was growing a little more furious each second I continued to employ this man.
I lowered to my haunches in front of the girl who sat on her knees in the snow. “Who gave you the poison?”
Tears running down her cheeks, she flicked a frightful gaze to her papa for direction. She was terrified of him even now, with death on the horizon. Abram watched her with cruel eyes and a hand on his bleeding face.
“I—I did it alone,” she stammered.
“See! I told you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Albert growled.
After putting my gun in my waistband, I ripped the girl’s dress open. Buttons fell to the snow. She sobbed, probably with the belief she’d be gang-raped to death. Her lack of bra wasn’t the most obvious sight. An assortment of old and fresh bruises covered her torso. One of her ribs looked inflamed, most likely broken, and bite marks marred her small breasts, some deep enough to be open wounds.
She might have been involved with the poisoning, but, clearly, she didn’t have much of a choice. Having been the underdog many, many years ago at my own mother’s hands, one could say I had a soft spot for the situation.
“Go,” I told her.
Her eyes lifted to mine, confusion within. After a second of staring at me, she stood, pulled her dress closed, and ran to the house.
“What the fuck?” Abram snarled. “She did this!”
I rose to my full height.