Page 51 of His Darkest Obsession (Baryshev Bratva #1)

INDIGO

"What do you mean he went to do something stupid?" My voice comes out high and thin with panic.

Roma just stares at me for a long moment, his jaw working like he's chewing on what to say. Then he turns away, grabbing the remote control from the coffee table.

"You'll find out soon enough," he says grimly, turning on the television and switching to a news channel.

The screen flickers to life showing a helicopter view of a building downtown. Red and blue lights flash around its perimeter. The crawl at the bottom of the screen reads: "brEAKING NEWS: REPORTS OF DISTURBANCE AT CITY HALL."

Dread pools in my gut, thick and cold.

"No," I whisper. "He didn't..."

But I know he did. The pieces are falling into place with sickening clarity.

Anatoly must have found the NDA. He must have discovered what happened to me in Grant's office that summer. What Grant did to me.

What he forced me to do after.

The camera zooms in on the building, and shows police cars and ambulances crowding the street. A reporter's voice drones on about "unconfirmed reports" and "heightened security following the election."

"When?" I ask, my voice barely audible.

"He left about an hour ago," Roma answers, his eyes never leaving the screen.

I sink onto the couch, my legs suddenly unable to hold me. Amara sits beside me and takes my hand in hers.

"Miels, what's happening?" she asks.

But I can't answer her.

All I can think about is Anatoly, driven to violence by the truth. The truth that I couldn't bring myself to tell him.

Suddenly, the reporter on screen touches her earpiece, her expression shifting.

"We're just getting an update," she says, her voice tense. "Paramedics have discovered what they're describing as a grisly scene inside. Mayor Bennet has been found murdered in his office."

My hand flies to my mouth. The room spins around me.

"NYPD is already on scene," the reporter continues. "This is still a developing story and—"

She pauses, looking down at something handed to her off-camera. When she looks up again, her face has gone pale.

"I've just been informed that..." she swallows hard.

"Additional details have emerged about the condition of the body.

" She glances off-camera as if seeking permission before continuing in a trembling voice.

"The mayor's body has been mutilated. Preliminary reports suggest that his. .. his hands and genitals are missing."

The room goes silent except for Amara's shocked yelp beside me.

I will give you his hands.

Anatoly's promise echoes in my mind, spoken weeks ago as he knelt before me, kissing the scars on my thighs. He promised then to find whoever marked me and deliver their hands to me.

And now he has.

Amara turns to me, her face contorted with horror. "Miels, what—"

Svetlana steps forward quickly, putting a hand on Amara's shoulder. "You shouldn't be here for this, devushka," she says firmly.

"But I want to stay with—"

"Your sister will need you later," Svetlana insists, her tone brooks no argument as she pulls my sister from the couch. "But not now."

I watch them go, unable to form words as my brain struggles to process what's happening.

Roma stands motionless before the TV, arms crossed tightly across his chest. He's shaking his head slowly back and forth.

"Tolya, you fucking idiot," he mutters under his breath.

I turn to Roma, my voice barely above a whisper. "Did you help him do this?"

Roma's jaw tightens, his eyes still fixed on the television where they're showing aerial footage of police swarming the mayor's office building.

"Answer me, Roma." My voice gains strength. "There's no point hiding anything from me now. Did you help him?"

He finally looks at me, exhaustion etched into his face. After a long moment, he sighs deeply.

"Five weeks ago, after the gala, Anatoly called me about an NDA. Said it was between you and Bennet. He ordered me to find it."

"And did you?"

Roma shakes his head. "No. But the spectacle at the gala between you and Lola drew attention. Apparently, every fucking crime family in New York started digging into you, and it was only a matter of time before all of them found out that this fucking NDA exists."

I sink back into the couch, nausea swirling in my stomach.

I feel a hand resting on my shoulder. When I look up, I see Svetlana standing behind me with a sorrowful expression. I look into Svetlana's eyes—the same eyes as Anatoly's—and guilt starts eating me up from the inside.

For an entire week, I've been shutting him out, avoiding his touch, refusing to speak more than necessary... all because I thought Anatoly had betrayed me, that he was working with Bennet.

All because I thought he never really cared about me.

But he wasn't.

He was trying to protect me. To avenge me.

"But if you didn't find the NDA, who did?" I turn my attention back to Roma and ask.

"Vassily." Roma's mouth twists. "Apparently he got a tip from Grisha Volkov, of all people."

I close my eyes and Svetlana's hand gives my shoulder a soft squeeze.

But it doesn't do a damn thing to reassure me.

Valentina was telling the truth, just not the whole truth.

There are no secrets in this world. Not because brothers share everything with each other, but because the network of information in this world is so tightly woven that nothing stays hidden for long.

My hand instinctively moves to my stomach.

It's only a matter of time before everyone—Valentina included—finds out about my pregnancy.

It's only a matter of time before I'm forced to lose another child.

Except the difference this time is that this is a child that I wanted from the start.

I push myself up from the couch. My limbs feel heavier than they should.

"I need to talk to Anatoly." My voice sounds far away, even to my own ears.

Roma shakes his head. "He's on his way back now. You can talk when he gets here."

"No, I need to call him now." I move toward Roma, reaching for his phone. "Give me your phone. Please."

Something about the desperation in my voice makes Roma's expression soften slightly, but he still hesitates.

"Indigo, just wait. He'll be back soon—"

"I can't wait!" The words burst out of me. "You don't understand. I have to talk to him now. I have to tell him..."

My breath suddenly catches in my throat. The room feels too hot, then too cold. I take another step toward Roma, but my legs feel disconnected from the rest of me.

The TV reporter's voice echoes through the room: "...forensic experts are describing the scene as one of unprecedented brutality…"

I try to focus, but the words blur together. The air seems to thicken around me, making each breath a struggle.

"I don't... I can't..." My vision narrows, darkness creeping in from the edges. "I have to tell…"

My knees buckle. The floor rushes up to meet me.

"Indigo!" Svetlana's voice cuts through the fog. I feel her arms catching me, stopping my fall.

Somewhere in the distance, I can hear Roma shouting something. But the sound is muffled, almost like it's coming from underwater.

Blackness creeps into the edge of my vision, and the last thing I whisper before the world fades away is just a single word.

"Anatoly."