Page 35 of Her Darkest Possession

"So it seems." Killian nods slowly, then nudges Grisha's head with the gun. "What do you want to do with him?"

I think about how badly I want to put a bullet between Grisha's eyes right here. Right now. The satisfaction of watching his blood spill across Killian's tacky club floor would be fucking sublime.

But then I remember what Indigo said before I set out.

I want him to die, and I want him to see me when he does. Bring my sister back. And if you can, bring Grisha as well.

She deserves that satisfaction after what this piece of shit tried to do to her and her sister.

"I want to take him with me," I tell Killian, nodding at Grisha's pathetic, bleeding form. "So my wife can teach him some fucking manners."

Killian's eyebrows shoot up, and then he bursts into laughter. It's a rough, whiskey-soaked sound that fills the tense silence of the club.

He shakes his head, still chuckling. "Your wife sounds like a formidable woman."

"You have no fucking idea," I reply, thinking of my blue-hairedbritvochkawho shot this bastard in the leg and escaped a moving train.

All while pregnant.

Killian considers for a moment, then nods. "Fine by me."

He gestures toward Grisha.

"But you should know... this piece of shit came here with the girl as a gift. He was offering me a chunk of your territories in Inwood. Said the Volkovs were planning to take it and have no interest holding onto it."

I know what Killian is doing.

He's offering me up valuable intelligence about the Volkovs' next target. But I also know that this information won't come for free.

"What do you want in exchange?" I ask directly.

"I've always liked Brighton Beach." Killian smiles, revealing a row of crooked teeth. "Love the restaurants. Love the people,especially the girls." He pauses. "Russian men look like pigs, and somehow you have these supermodels hanging on your arms. Almost every one of my top-performing girls goes home there after work. I don't want them traveling so far. Bad for business if they get into... mishaps along the way."

You greedy bastard.

Brighton Beach has been bratva territory for decades, ever since the first Russian speaking immigrant landed there. And when the Soviet Union collapsed, it was the bratvas that helped facilitate the tens of thousands of new families that came flooding to these shores.

Giving the Irish a foothold there would destabilize the old families' influence. Reduce the very essence of the old neighborhoods that so many of us still hold in the fond memories of childhood.

But Killian is still holding the gun.

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"We all have choices, Baryshev," Killian replies. "Some are just shittier than others. Like you, I am also a businessman, and I see an opportunity for business with someone who I hope one day I might call a friend."

"When I'm done settling the score with the Volkovs." I nod slowly. "Their old holdings in Brighton Beach are yours. Does that work for you? Friend?"

He rises to his feet, gives the gun to one of his men nearby, and extends a hand towards me.

I take it and give it a firm shake. "Deal."

"Khorosho," he mispronounces the word as his smile widens.

10

INDIGO

I knowthat I'm supposed to stay in the panic room like Anatoly instructed, but I can't.