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Viktor’s attention immediately moves to the beer in front of him. “What about it?”
“And the attack on the construction site.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Do you know who that was? Who was behind those attacks?”
“Why would I?” Viktor lifts the bottle to his lips.
“I figured you might have an idea,” I say, leaning my elbows on the table. “Because the more I thought about it, the more Irealized that it was weird how those attempts on Anastasia’s life stopped after I got close to her.”
“So?” Viktor raises his wiry brows. “You want to complain because you did a good job?”
“No, I just thought you might have had some insight given how good you are at cleaning up messes.”
“No, I have no clue. Not that it matters because they forced Anastasia to trust you and you got closer to her than anyone else ever has. I hardly see it as an issue,” he replies. “Besides, that has nothing to do with why I wanted to see you.”
“I know,” I sigh. “I just hoped there was something I was missing, y’know? That maybe we got whoever was responsible but didn’t realize.” In truth, I was hoping Viktor would have some answers because the lack of a threat on Anastasia’s life worries me. The gala will be here soon, and there will be no better opportunity to take her life than when she’s on stage, unprotected.
“If I had to take a guess, it was probably a relative of one of the generals she slaughtered,” Viktor replies. “So do you want to tell me what the hell went down with you two and why it feels like months of investigation just went up in smoke?”
The truth dances on my tongue as Viktor and I look at each other. I could tell him the truth right now. I could let him know that everything he suspected and feared was true, that he was on the right path, and that if he so chose, he could get the justice he desires.
But I won’t.
Because Anastasia is doing well. She’s messy at it, and it will take time, but she’s done more good for this family in seven months than her father did in seven years. So I settle on a version of the truth.
“We talked about Sergey,” I say.
Viktor’s face lights up like a cat that’s spotted a mouse. “And?”
“She didn’t do it, Viktor. She had absolutely nothing to do with her father’s death. You’ve been looking in the wrong place for months. But I do have a lead.”
“Bullshit!” Viktor slams his fist down on the table, making his bottle jump and earning a sharp warning cough from Hazel.
“Listen, Viktor,” I say quickly. “I have a lead. He had a partner for some kind of secret deal.”
“What?” Viktor’s eyes snap to me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He was about to send this family crashing into a future that involved child trafficking.” The words taste like bile in my mouth. “And he was working with someone else to do it. Now, I don’t know who he was working with, but it’s pretty plausible that something went wrong with the deal and he was killed for revenge.”
“No,” Viktor growls.
“No?” Confusion twists like fog in my chest. “What do you mean, no?”
“Exactly that. It wouldn’t have been his partner,” Viktor says. “This sounds like Anastasia trying to get you off her scent.”
“Viktor—”
“No!” He slams his fist again and this gets Hazel’s full attention.
She glares daggers at the both of us and when I catch her eye, she taps the shotgun behind the bar. I flash her an apologetic smile.
“Viktor, listen to me. There’s more at play here than just her, okay? For one, this new deal he was working on is so unbelievably twisted that it opens him up to a whole new host of people who could have targeted him, including this mysterious partner. We have no way of knowing.”
“I know,” Viktor hisses sharply and he gulps down his beer. “I’m sick of this shit. We get so close, and then she spins you some kind of tale, and you immediately believe her!”
It dawns on me slowly, like all my muscles have been stretched thin and are slowly relaxing. Viktor is blinded. No matter what information I present to him, he will never change his mind. He’s so set on blaming Anastasia that even if she were truly innocent, he wouldn’t care. It pains me, but I won’t let her go down for this.