“Your father was Niall Fitzpatrick, right?”
I nod.
“I heard about him from Dedushka. He said he was a good leader and that his brother, Rolan, is worse than him.”
“I don’t know about good. He was like a lot of the crime organization leaders—blinded by profit and power. Still, he didn’t deserve to be shot in the back by his own brother.”
A soft gasp leaves her lips. “He was?”
“He died by the hands of the one person he trusted the most. Isn’t that ironic?”
“Unfortunately, it happens more often than you think in our world.” She strokes my cheek. “So now you want to destroy your uncle?”
“And everything the fucker stands for. He’s the one who sold me in the black market and made me into this, but he’s not the only one. The ones who contributed that night will pay too.”
“Oh, Kyle.”
“Save your pity, Princess.”
“I’m far from pitying you.” Her expression is determined, hard, and holds no doubts. “I want to murder him for you.”
14
Kyle
I want to murder him for you.
Her words take me by surprise even though they shouldn’t. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Rai after staying with her this long, it’s that she has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t back down when she decides to protect someone.
Maybe back then, if Mum had someone like her by her side, she wouldn’t have died the way she did.
Maybe then, Rai and I could have met under different circumstances. Me, as the Irish’s heir, and she a Russian mafia princess. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have been the shadow who sometimes doesn’t know whether I want to be seen or simply disappear.
A fiery gleam sparkles in her eyes as she speaks with conviction. “I can do it.”
“Do what?”
“Kill Rolan for you.”
“I could’ve done it myself a long time ago, could’ve sniped him down while he was walking the streets, but I didn’t. Because death is a way out for that scum.”
“So what’s your plan exactly?”
“Make him suffer first. Toy with him first. Only then will he be granted death.”
“That means you’ll keep using the brotherhood, and I won’t allow you to hurt anyone in my organization.”
“You’re awfully loyal to people who keep trying to chase you out.”
“So what? That doesn’t mean I didn’t snatch my rightful place. I may not be a”—she makes quotation marks—“‘brother’, a fact they won’t stop reminding me of. I might hate Mikhail’s sexist ass and despise Kirill’s slippery nature. I might distrust Damien’s recklessness, Adrian’s mysteriousness, and Igor’s secretiveness, but my loyalty lies with what those men stand for. I will not allow you to destroy them.”
“And how do you intend to stop me?”
“With my life. Kill me first, then you can do whatever you want.”
“Fuck, Rai. You’d put your own life on the line?”
“If it’s the only thing that would stop you, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it.”
Touché, Princess.
Maybe she really knows me more than I thought possible. At this moment, the only thing that’s able to stop me is her. I even came back here, risking being shot to death by that fucker Vladimir if it meant seeing her one last time.
Godfather and all the fuckers from The Pit—especially Flame—would be so unimpressed with the way I chose to die. By a Russian. For a woman.
I would laugh if I could. They would tell their children tales about how pathetic I’ve become, how the mighty have fallen.
And yet, I’d still come back here in a heartbeat.
“Instead…” Rai trails off. “I will take revenge against Rolan on your behalf.”
I raise a brow. “You will?”
“You have my word.”
“What to do? My revenge might start with Rolan, but it doesn’t end with him.”
“Then how does it end?”
“There was a Russian there that night—the one who betrayed my mother. Unless he dies, my revenge won’t end.”
“Is he one of us?”
“I believe so, but I’m not sure if he’s one of the existing ones or if he went back to Russia.”
“So you decided to attack us without concrete evidence.”
“Russian Bratva in New York was all the evidence I needed.”
“Are you serious? You would’ve destroyed an entire organization for one person?”
“I would’ve done more. I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of destruction. I’m a killing machine and all I know is how to kill.”
“That’s not true.”
“Not true? You called my hands filthy, remember?”
“That’s because you hurt me, you jerk. I bite back as hard as I’m bitten.”
“Isn’t that the fucking truth,” I sigh, lips twitching.
“Let me ask you something.”
“Anything.” I wrap my hands around the small of her back, because touching her feels critical right now. Like if I stop touching her, I will stop breathing.
“What took you so long to start your revenge? Surely you could’ve done it in your twenties or somewhere during that time.”
“It took me a long time to track things down. I always knew my parents were killed and the scene was vivid in my head, but I lost lots of details during The Pit. I lost sense of time and space and didn’t know if it happened in Ireland or in England or in the States.”