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“But… the baby…” he blurts. “That baby is part Kiselev.”
He’s losing his foothold. These are his last desperate attempts to stop his family’s freefall.
It would be repulsive if it wasn’t so pitiful.
“My baby has nothing to do with your daughter.”
“The child will be a bastard then,” he spits.
“If I remember correctly, you yourself were the bastard born from your father’s favorite mistress. Isn’t that right, Rolan?”
He cringes as if I slapped him.
But I haven’t even begun to inflict pain yet.
“I always do my research. I like to know my enemies. And I definitely know my allies—real or imagined.” I crack my neck lazily. “In any case, my daughter will not be a bastard. Especially since I married her mother.”
“So you’re admitting it?” Rolan presses. “You slaughtered my daughter to get her out of the way so that you could marry your slut.”
“I’ve been very patient with you up until now, Rolan. But call my wife a whore one more time, and I’ll make sure you join your daughter in hell.”
He pales, fists pulsing. “You killed her?—”
“Otets!” Feliks cries, raising his voice for the first time since I’ve known him. “That’s enough!”
Rolan whips out his gun and aims it at his son. “I told you to shut the fuck up!”
I have to commend Feliks: the man doesn’t so much as flinch. “We’re not doing this here,” he says coolly.
“You’re gonna stand there while I have a gun to your face and order me around?” Rolan seethes. “One second. That’s all it would take to end your miserable life. One fuckingsecond.”
“But then who would clean up your messes, father?” Rolan goes beet red, but his son has more to say. “You know better than to blame Arsen for Natascha’s death. You could havepreventedNatascha’s death. Maybe that’s why you’re so angry.”
“Be silent, boy.”
I step into the fray. “Rolan, put the damn gun down. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“This is between me and my son!”
“Except you’re standing in my office, on my turf.” I stare him down until, with a strangled moan, he lowers the weapon. “Good. Now, tell me: how could Natascha’s death have been prevented?”
“That’s not your?—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I interrupt, cutting Rolan off mid-sentence and turning my attention to Feliks. It might be the first time I’ve ever addressed him. It’s also the first time he’s made himself seem even moderately useful.
He gulps, then clears his throat and stands tall and proud. “Alessandro Calcagno has been trying to make contact with us for months now.”
Rolan glowers in Feliks’ direction. “That information is not for you to share, you fuckingmudak. You will be silent or—” Heshuts up the moment the cool mouth of my gun presses to his temple.
“You are the one who’s going to have to be silent, Rolan,” I command. “One more word out of you and I will pull the trigger.”
He swallows, but holds his tongue.
After a beat, Feliks continues, “My father turned down the request for a meeting with Calcagno. So then, about a month ago, Alessandro promised that if we didn’t hear him out, he would have no choice but to hit our family. He mentioned Natascha by name.”
That’s news to me. Important news. “You were warned about the hit on Natascha?”
“You miserable bastard!” Rolan screams at his son. “I’m going to?—”
