Page 22 of Merciless Heir

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“Likely fucking story,” Daniil scoffs. “The bank records tell us everything we need to know. Oleg paid you a shitload of money to rat on us. Starting, oh, about nine months ago.”

Ice shoots through my veins. Oleg killed my father six months ago. Hard to believe there’s not a connection here. That Pavel didn’t feed information to Oleg, so he knew exactly when my father would be most vulnerable.

“Stick to the truth,” I seethe into his ear. “You lose a hand next time bullshit comes out of your mouth.” Another kick, this blow delivered by Daniil.

Curled into the saddest ball I’ve ever seen on the wooden plank floor, his words coming out in weak pants. “Oleg approached me in Moscow when I was back home visiting my mother. He took me out, wined and dined me, got me stinking drunk and then dumped me in a brothel. He blackmailed me. Thatmu’dak, got pictures of me and this whore.” Pavel stops for a moment and coughs up blood. “If I didn’t do what he said, he was going to publish photos of me tied up and being whipped. It would be the end of me. I had no choice.”

I heave him up by his collar, now soaked with blood and spittle, so he has to look me in the eye. “Did he force you to take his millions as well? If you had a brain and an ounce of loyalty in your little worm body, you would know that dancing with the enemy would end very, very badly.”

I slam his head into the ground, and he weeps like a baby. I take pleasure in his pain. “It’s because of you Oleg knew we’d be at that airport hangar in Berlin. It's because of you a rogue sniper bullet nearly killed me, along with my father. He bled out in my arms. I held my father as he fucking died,” I roar.

Anger and grief are a live wire in my chest, but I shove them aside, trying to erase one of the worst days of my life. I slam my pistol down across his skull, pulling my arm back, ready to deliver another blow, but a warm hand on my back stops me.

“Don’t finish him yet,” Daniil says to me, aiming his gun at Pavel, curled up in the fetal position. “Tell us what you know about Kira and we’ll end your suffering.”

“Kira? I don’t know a Kira, I swear it,” he rasps, “but I heard Oleg say that name once. He was fighting on the phone and told someone named Kira to stay away from Brooklyn. I assumed it was a mistress.” He coughs again, and a wet gurgling sound echoes in his chest.

Daniil looms over him. “Where is he hiding?” A man like Oleg can’t stay underground for long. He’s too important. He’s lying low now because we are on the attack; knowing where he is gives us the benefit of surprise. And I’m all about surprises.

“I don’t know where, no one knows where,” Pavel sobs. Another wheezy breath. “I’m sorry, I did wrong by you and your papa. I take that to the grave.”

BANG BANG.

Daniil stands behind me, the gun still smoking in his hand. “Too late for apologies,blyad.”

* * *

Drip drip drip.

“We really need to get that thing fixed.” Daniil eyes the offending leaky pipe above him. We’re congregated in our office. It’s on the other side of the building from the interrogation room. This space is as bare-bones as it comes, a complete departure from the opulence of our home.

“That’s the least of our worries,” I say, buttoning up my dress shirt after washing off Pavel’s dried blood in the corner sink.

Leo, seated on the couch in the far corner of the room, is brooding after absorbing the news that Pavel was the mole. As the man responsible for our organization’s intelligence, he blames himself for not discovering Pavel’s betrayal earlier. I shoulder just as much responsibility for that oversight. One that I won’t forgive myself for any time soon.

But this moment isn’t about me, it’s about Leo. I give his shoulder a quick squeeze as I pass him on the way to my desk. “Don’t blame yourself. Pavel knew all the tricks of the trade. He covered his tracks like a pro. And Papa trusted him implicitly.”

Leo shakes his head. “But for a whole fucking year. We need to assume Oleg knows way more about our organization than we can imagine.”

“God, I should have ripped out his heart and fed it to the dogs.” Daniil’s hands form into fists on the table in front of him. “I’ll need to install a whole new firewall system, update all passwords, new shell companies, everything. And vet every soldier like it’s their first day.”

I nod. “I want to see all the communication between Pavel and the Antonovs. Ransack his house, computers, cell phones, cars, anything that can tell us how far his betrayal actually went. We’ll also need to question his family.”

Leo leans forward, dark hair falling around his face. “What did he say about Kira?”

“He confirmed she exists, and that Oleg is in contact with her,” I say through clenched teeth. “He overheard an argument they had on the phone. Oleg wanted Kira to stay away, and it sounds like she was fighting him about it.”

“This is good news.” Leo sits up taller and rubs his hands together. “She’s alive and Oleg is in contact with her. Now it’s up to Georgia to figure out the rest.”

“Speaking of which,” Daniil says, his lips curled upward. “How’s her training coming along?”

Jerk.

He got Yulian’s report just the same as I did. He’s making a point.

“Fine,” I grit out.

“That’s not what I heard.”


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