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Pulling the covers up, I make sure she’s okay and then dress in a new suit, one that isn’t splattered with blood. I need to run a few errands. The sun will be rising in about an hour, but Emily’s exhausted and should sleep in pretty late. I should be back in plenty of time.
When I step into the kitchen, Lev is drinking a bottle of water and leaning against the counter. He raises a pierced brow at me. “Couldn’t sleep?”
I start the coffeepot and shrug. “Too much to do.” Looking over at him, I say, “I need to go kill a guy. Want to come?”
He laughs and finishes the bottle. “Fuck yeah I do.”
While I pour some coffee into a travel mug, Lev laughs and says, “Vitaly is going to be so pissed he missed this, but he went to a club after we got back last night, so I’m guessing he won’t be up for a while.” He gives another laugh. “You snooze, you lose.”
When we’re in the Porsche and pulling out of the parking garage, I tell him, “Emily and I are getting married today.”
“The fuck?” He turns in his seat so he can look at me head on. “You’re serious?”
I smile and make a left turn. “I am.”
He laughs and smacks my arm. “I’m happy for you, man. I like Emily. She’s good for you, and you deserve some happiness.” He pauses before adding, “Alina would want you to be happy.”
“I know she would. I’ll never stop looking for her, and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to get married, but,” I give a small shrug, “I can’t let her go.”
“So who are we killing on this fine morning?”
My smile grows. “Connor Daniels.”
“Wow, really?”
“He said and did some things that I can’t look past.” I give a soft laugh. “I can’t kill everyone I want right now, so this is my way of compromising. Think of it as a little wedding gift to myself.”
“If I ever get married, I’m going to remember that. It has all the makings of a Melnikov tradition.”
He’s not wrong. I drive to a rundown part of the city and park near an apartment building that probably looked halfway decent forty years ago. Now, it’s falling apart and in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint and a clean-up crew, or maybe just a demolition is what it needs at this point. I’m not sure anything can save this place. The blue Bentley parked on the curb looks painfully out of place.
“Well this is a real shithole,” Lev says, looking out the window at a boarded-up house and the garbage that’s strewn on the sidewalk in front of it.
“Connor likes to fuck the politicians’ daughters, but I had a couple of our guys follow him, and it turns out he also likes to visit his favorite whore on a pretty regular basis. He could afford to get her out of this dump, but of course he doesn’t. He just visits her a couple of times a week, paying her a pitiful sum and sometimes leaving her with a bruised face and body.”
“Fucker,” Lev mutters.
“Yeah, he can’t beat up the rich politicians’ daughters, so he takes it out on this poor girl.” I don’t try to pretend that that’s why I’m killing him, though. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. He came after my girl. He’s made her uncomfortable for years, and he insulted her on the yacht. Emily is about to be my wife, and I protect what’s mine. Connor’s about to learn that firsthand.
I grab the silencer from the glovebox and screw it on to the end of my gun while Lev checks his own weapon. At a quarter to seven on the dot, we get out and cross the street, stopping beneath the stairwell of the apartment building. No one else is around, and even if they were, I doubt they’d care. This isn’t the kind of neighborhood where people stop to help one another. This is more the kind where if you’re smart, you keep your head down and pretend you don’t see shit.
I meet Lev’s eyes when we hear a door slam shut above us, followed by the steady thud of footsteps on the stairs. We wait and listen, and as soon as Connor comes into view, I step out from the shadows and point my gun at him. It takes him a second to realize what’s happening, but when understanding hits his smug face, he just laughs. That’s the problem with rich bastards like him; they think they’re untouchable. They think they can do whatever the fuck they want, hurt whoever they want, and nothing will ever happen to them. He’s going to learn how very wrong he is.
“What the fuck is all this?” he asks, looking from me to Lev.
I don’t answer him. I just keep staring at him because I’ve learned that tends to make people very uncomfortable. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence, just like I knew he would.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Roman.”
I don’t move, and I don’t say a word.
“Is this about Emily? What?” he asks with a forced laugh. “Bored with her already?” He looks up at the floor he just came down from. “Take my advice and get yourself a whore on the side. They’ll do all the things girls like Emily never will. Oh, wait a minute,” he says, a smug grin turning up the corners of his mouth, “you already have one, don’t you?” Another laugh, this one sounding more genuine. “My dad told me you have a little pet. You’re a little freak, aren’t you, Roman? Does Emily know about your little plaything on the side?” He points a finger at me. “You’re no better than me.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I growl out, and since he’s about to die, I see no reason to keep the truth from him. “My little plaything is Emily, you stupid fuck. Emily, my fiancée. Emily, who I’m going to marry in a few hours.”
“What?”
When he takes a step back, Lev is already waiting behind him, making sure he doesn’t try to make a run for it.
