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There is no us, I wanted to scream. My hands flew to my hair. I pulled on the strands, struggling to maintain composure.
“Stop trying to manipulate me.”
Perhaps I would have crumbled if the pressure he applied continued, but as the breeze hit me, so did the thoughts of the past, and I knew. In my heart of hearts, I knew. It was time for me to fight.
For myself, for those whose lives this decision would affect.
I’d sooner shoulder the burden than accept the fate they tried to impose.
The lies they fabricated and the guilt they attempted to fill me with.
Once, around the time I met Ilya, I might have admired him. Not anymore.
I wanted to be great in my own right. And his presence had run its course.
We will never know the “ifs” because now the fighter had awakened, and she roared.
Ilya picked up on the shift in the air, and with a gesture, he called his guards. To restrain me. To lock me up. Whatever his intentions were, I’d go down fighting before I went down at all.
“Call them off. Last warning.”
Ilya sat there, unmoving. A man I’d known for years and considered my close friend. My only friend for a while. I’d even saved his life once, a long time ago. Yet he sold mine out in the blink of an eye.
His goons were closing in, approaching from behind. Before they got a hold of me, I launched. Timing my move, I played to my strength: precision. I bent and moved out of the way. A moment of hesitation on their part allowed me to execute the move perfectly, their heads clashing together. The sound of the impact wasn’t pretty, but they’d have nothing more than a nasty headache. It could’ve been much worse.
When the guards’ bodies hit the ground, I worked quickly. Pulling out their guns, I pointed one at Ilya and the other at Maxim.
I didn’t intend to involve the Galkins, who now stood to my left, but to make a safe exit, I had to keep control of the situation, which meant covering all fronts. Besides, they worked for him. In a couple of hours, they’d become family. I couldn’t trust them. Any of them.
Eyes narrowed on Ilya, I cocked the gun at him, demanding compliance.
“Back away from the table.”
He remained seated, calling my bluff. Frustration surged within me. I wanted to slap him out of whatever delusional state he was in.
Raising my voice to a new high, I spelled out the words, aware of the gun taped to the bottom part of the desk. “I said back away!”
I couldn’t afford him reaching for the weapon. Sure, the Galkins were armed, but the code dictated that they must comply and ensure the safety of their Pakhan.
Since it was me who held the upper hand, they better double-think their moves. Thankfully, the reputation I built affected the way I was approached, so they were all wary.
Ilya, not taking my words seriously despite being the one who encouraged me to be who I was, only added fuel to the fire. And I was burning.
Mentally checking out, I aimed the gun and shot. The bullet landed in the wooden panel behind the desk, grazing Ilya’s now bleeding ear shell in the process.
The room reached a scorching temperature. By now, the guns were drawn, pointing directly at me. A shot of adrenaline surged through my veins.
Hopefully, this would make them understand.
Ilya’s ears were ringing, no doubt, when he finally surrendered to my demands. He stood over the desk while the Galkins followed every move closely, prepared to pounce.
Something close to shock or annoyance took over Ilya’s features. I couldn’t care less.
His bed was made, and I kick-started the exit plan.
“Here’s how it’s going to go down,” I said, controlling the narrative. “You’re going to let me leave in Galkin’s car.”
Connecting eyes with Maxim, I schooled my face to be neutral. Indifferent, as I continued, “The second I’m past that gate, whatever friendship there was between us? It’s over,” I warned. “I am coming for you and Malek. I will call in every favor. Gather every rat looking for an opportunity in this city.”