Page 26 of The Beast of Moscow

And they would, no matter what happened tonight. It was a promise he kept because despite the men who believed women and children had no place in their world, Vaslav found—often—those same women and children were simply victims of circumstance and love. Rarely did people choose who they loved. Instead, love made the choice for them.

A man’s sins should be his own.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he added.

Nico pulled in a shaky breath, then, and once more, couldn’t meet the eyes of the man who had called him there in the first place. “Will they?”

“You could have chosen not to come tonight. Why question me when you did? You had to know.”

“Fuck—how long before you found me, huh? How much worse does it get, then?”

“I trusted you, Nico.”

“I know,” his friend rushed to say, every word strained. “And no explanation is going to make it better because I fucked up, Vas. I don’t even have an excuse. I promise it wasn’t our money—your money, though. It never moved through any hand that touches yours before it went to his.”

“Doesn’t matter. I made the call—he was already dead.”

Even walking with a heart still beating, the second that Vaslav killed Feliks’ father, took over the organization, and all but shit on the Abramov name and legacy, the man was an untouchable. And not in a good way. Any business with Feliks would be seen as a stain. Trash was still trash no matter where it landed.

“It’s been six damn years, Vas!” Nico hissed.

“You don’t get to decide when this ends for him. If I wanted that bastard to walk the streets of Moscow for another ten years as a fucking pariah before I put him out of his misery, that was my right to do so. Maybe it was your money to give, but you clearly didn’t consider that cost would be far higher than you were willing to pay, comrade.”

Tipping his chin up and Vaslav stood from the chair, Nico stared hard at him. There were so many things the two of them could have said—better memories to relive, almost a lifetime to go through together, if they wanted.

That was all over, though.

Vaslav didn’t like to go back with people who weren’t taking him forward.

“Do you want to know why?” Nico asked.

“Would it matter?”

“No, Vas. It won’t.”

“There’s your answer.”

“They all said you wouldn’t do it,” Nico uttered.

Yeah, he bet. Igor when he called to demand his presence. Maybe even Nico’s wife, if she knew anything about his dealings. Definitely Natalia on her way out of the estate. Everyone of them probably told Nico the same thing.

He won’t kill you; you’re his best friend.

The world around him kept expecting a beast to suddenly grow into a man.

“I wanted to believe you wouldn’t do it, Vas.”

“Well, don’t expect me to apologize.”

Nico had been too busy keeping his gaze locked on Vaslav that he didn’t even notice the man had picked up his axe when he stood. His final words to Nico were punctuated with the weapon swinging over his shoulder, so he could catch the handle fast with both hands to swing it forward.

He’d moved the coffee table earlier, and even rearranged the chairs.

Nico didn’t even have time to sit straight in his chair before the axe came down, crushing his face with a morbid crunch and one last squeak. There wasn’t even a scream. Vaslav had two things to his favor—a mighty swing, and one hell of an aim.

Practice made perfect.

Every single time.