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CHAPTER 49
DAMIEN
Iwas the model fucking VP.
Cooperative. Charming. Beyond grateful to have been rescued from my captors and reunited with my Russian brethren.
Yes, I’d burst in, wielding a knife, but only because I’d thought that was the girl who’d killed our comrades back in Howth. I wanted to make sure the soldier who’d captured her had backup. She was extremely dangerous, after all.
They’d accepted my story with suspicious sneers—that wig and voice recording had obviously been used to bait me for a reason—but they kept their mouths shut and fell in line like good little soldiers.
The uniform they gave me helped me play the part as well. It wasn’t a perfect fit—it belonged to the hive’s captain, who was shorter and heavier than me—and it was for an Army officer instead of a Naval officer, but it would have to do.
Because I had another announcement to make, and my father didn’t want me appearing in blood-spattered hospital clothes on TV.
My father.
He was on his way.
I thought of Jack and Paul as I saluted and shook hands with every soldier I passed as Captain Markov escorted me up twelve flights of stairs to the roof. Their deaths would not be in vain.
Because Alexi was arriving by helicopter, and he wanted me up there to greet him.
A tiny flicker of hope sparked in my cold, vengeful heart as I pictured Oscar or Wheezy taking aim at his shiny bald head the moment he stepped out of the chopper, but when Captain Markov led me out onto the roof, I realized just how fucking stupid that thought had been. Twelve stories was way too fucking high for us to be visible to anyone down below, especially when the platform we were on didn’t extend to the edges of the building.
I was on my own.
I thought about what Clover had said, about me not being alone anymore, and shook my head in bitter resignation.
Alone was better.
Alone meant no one else would get hurt … because of me.
Captain Markov and I covered our ears as Alexi’s helicopter touched down, and it didn’t go unnoticed when he took a few steps back, positioning himself between the exit and me.
I might have been Alexi’s puppet again, but I would always be his prisoner.
The moment the chopper landed, Alexi tore off his headset, unbuckled his harness, and exited the chopper before the rotor blades even finished spinning.
A rush of adrenaline shot through my veins as I readied myself to attack the second he got close enough, but I quickly realized that there wasn’t a single fucking thing I could do. Between him, the captain, the pilot, and a third passenger in the back seat, I was outnumbered and probably outgunned four to one.
“My son,” Alexi sneered, placing his meaty hands on my face and kissing me on both cheeks. When he got to the second one, he grabbed the back of my neck and whispered in my ear, “Welcome back.” His tone was venomous, his words delivered with a forked tongue. The only thing Alexi was welcoming me back to was his clutches. His almighty fucking control.
“Father,” I replied in that perfect Russian his tutors had taught me.
“Today is a great day,” he said, holding me at arm’s length. Then, he glanced at Captain Markov with a nod of approval. “He looks good. Very good.”
Turning me around, Alexi swept an arm out over the decimated city below. “Today, we declare victory and break ground on your new palace. There.”
Fuck.
Alexi was pointing at Dublin Castle—one of the oldest, most important buildings in the country and one of the few structures that hadn’t been destroyed yet.
“Sergey,” Alexi barked over his shoulder at the man who was still sitting in the back seat. His door was wide open, and he was clumsily attaching a video camera to a tripod.
Rushing over, the man stood facing us, next to the pilot, as he set up his gear, sweat beading on his brow as he adjusted all the settings.
“Here.” Reaching into his suit pocket, Alexi took out a black device with a red button in the center and extended an antenna from the top corner. “When the red light starts blinking”—he pointed at the camera—“you will stand next to your papa. You will declare victory over the UIB and this entire fucking country. You will announce our plans to build a second Kremlin on the site of Dublin Castle. And then you will blow that motherfucker—”
