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"Very," Richard admits. "And that's not the worst of it. The prosecution is moving to put him under witness protection. Once that happens..."
"He'll be untouchable," I finish, my jaw clenching.
"Exactly." There's a pause, heavy with implication. "Of course, if something were to happen before he enters protection, well, that would be quite unfortunate, wouldn't it?"
I close my eyes, understanding perfectly what Richard is suggesting. A month ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. One word from me, and Lance Halloway would disappear without a trace. Problem solved.
But now...
"Send me everything you have on him," I say finally. "I'll consider our options."
As I end the call, I can't shake the uneasy feeling in my gut. When did I become so hesitant, so conflicted?
The soft glow of my desk lamp casts long shadows across the study as I open the file Richard sends over. Lance Halloway's face stares back at me from a grainy photograph—mid-thirties, unremarkable features, the kind of man you'd pass on the street without a second glance.
And yet, this unassuming figure holds my brother's fate in his hands.
I reach for my phone, fingers hovering over the keys. One call. That's all it would take. One word from me, and Lance Halloway ceases to be a problem.
It's what the old Avros Petrov would have done without hesitation. The cold-blooded killer who cares for nothing but power and family.
But Sydney's words from that night in the sauna echo in my mind: "A monster. A cold-blooded killer who cares for nothing but power."
Is that who I am? Is that who I want to be?
I growl in frustration, shoving away from the desk. What's wrong with me? When did I become so soft, so... human?
Pacing the length of the study, I try to shake off these unwelcome doubts. I'm Avros fucking Petrov. I do what needs to be done to protect what's mine.
And yet...
I think of Miron, alone in that cell, counting on his big brother to fix everything like always. The weight of responsibility settles heavy on my shoulders. I've always carried this burden, but somehow it feels heavier now. More complicated.
A soft knock interrupts my brooding. I turn to see Sydney entering, a tray of coffee balanced carefully in her hands. The sight of her nearly steals my breath. She's a vision in a simple sundress, her fiery hair tumbling in loose waves around her shoulders. But it's the concern etched on her face that truly captivates me.
"Is everything okay?" she asks softly, setting the tray down on a side table. "You've been in here for hours."
I make my decision in that moment. I can't let Sydney see this side of me, not yet. Not when I'm still trying to understand itmyself. I tuck the file on Lance away, forcing a smile that feels brittle even to me.
"Just business, nothing for you to worry about," I say, moving to pour us both a cup of coffee.
Sydney steps closer, close enough that I can smell the faint floral scent of her shampoo. "Are you sure?" she presses gently. "You seem... tense."
As she reaches for her cup, our fingers brush. The simple touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I have to stifle a groan. Even now, with the weight of Miron's fate hanging over me, my body responds to her proximity like a magnet to true north.
I realize, with a sinking feeling in my gut, that I'm lying to myself as much as to her. Pretending I can have something with a normal woman, even as I face the decision to kill an innocent man. Everything has changed since Sydney came into my life, and I'm no longer sure I can keep my two worlds separate.
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with,krasotka," I say, my voice rougher than intended. I reach out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. The way she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, nearly undoes me. "But I appreciate your concern."
Sydney's eyes snap open, a flash of something passing through them. Hurt? Disappointment? Before I can decipher it, she takes a step back, putting some distance between us.
"Of course," she says, her tone carefully neutral. "I didn't mean to pry. I just thought that after everything we've shared..."
She trails off, an uncertainty in her gaze that sets my teeth on edge, makes me want to ease the tension in her brow. I have to clench my fists at my sides to keep from reaching for her.
"Sydney," I start, not sure what I'm going to say but needing to ease the tension suddenly crackling between us. "I can't..."
But she shakes her head, forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "It's fine, Avros. I understand. There are things about your life, your work, that I can't be a part of. I get it."
