Page 98 of City Of Thieves

Fuck.

Fuck.

Konstantin reels off instructions in Russian and two of his men head for the door. A beat later, I hear her crying out again in surprise and fear

“Leave her out of this, Belov,” I roar, rising to my feet, only to have six semi-automatics shoved in my face. “This is between you and me.”

“Hush. Do not ruin the surprise.” Konstantin crosses his legs as we wait for her to be brought to the atrium. “And do not be concerned about the men in the three vehicles outside,” he adds, brushing invisible creases out of his pants. “The New York police will have a busy morning tomorrow identifying all the bodies.”

Jesus Christ.

“That’s the one area my brothersdidexcel at,mudak,” he adds silkily. “They always had a Plan B, as well. Why have one underground cage fighting club when you can have two? Why have one toy to manipulate, when you can have…”

As if on cue, Tatiana appears in the doorway, her slender silhouette shaking when she sees me encased in a steel circle of Russian weaponry as I’m forced back down to my seat.

“Renzo? What’s going on? Where’s Anastasia?”

I see the hurt in her eyes, and it cuts me to the bone.

“Right on time,kiska,” Konstantin greets her warmly. “You received your assistant’s message, I see? Such an efficient girl. Such vicious lies. I am afraid there is no break-in. Not in the traditional sense anyway. The only theft happening here today is one half of your heart.”

“Erika’s working foryou?” She flinches as Konstantin’s men take her by the arm and drag her over to the table as a third chair is produced.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” I say with a growl, and get punched in the face for my troubles. “Jesus!” Glaring at the asshole who just hit me, I spit my blood at his shirt. “You punch like a pussy.”

“My spies are everywhere,kiska. You should know that by now.” Passing the ‘Atonement’ to one of his guards, Konstantin reaches into his pocket and places a cell phone onto the table near my gun.

“Sit,” he orders, and she stumbles into the chair. “You have an important choice to make.”

“What choice?” Her eyes dart to me, and then back to him, but I know what’s coming even before he says it, my black heart twisting in fury for her.

“Him...” The Russian’s gaze lingers on me before dropping to the phone on the table. “Or your daughter… You get to choose who lives and dies.”

I watch her face drain of color.

“Dolcezza.”

Her gaze snaps to me, and I see the ghosts in her eyes already. She knows she’ll be mourning one of us before the night is through.

She drops her head in despair.

“She can’t even look at you anymore, Marchesi,” he crows. “How poetic. Your fate is being sealed by a woman who continually betrays you, the way you betrayed your brother. When I collect Anastasia later to take her to her new home, I will stay a moment first to pray for your soul burning in everlasting hell.”

The adrenaline in my veins turns to ice. At the same time, I hear Sal’s voice in my head when I turned up drunk to Nero’s funeral.

“Look at you, hiding in the back of the Lord’s House like some drunken puttana. Go to the front and support your family, Renzo.”

“All you have is an offer.”

My words swing her attention back to me. I’m repeating what I said in the car in London, when I opened her up to the possibility of a choice within a choice. Her eyes widen again as she processes my meaning.

Hear what I’m saying, sweetheart.

I know where your daughter is.

You have the power here, not him.

“It rests in your hands to accept, reject, or counter. It’syour choice—control the fear, or let it control you.”