Page 119 of Hunt Me

As I ended the call, I was able to smile. Step by step. Soon, Tristen O’Shaughnessy would learn I was a new breed of Russian Bratva.

And I was much more dangerous.

CHAPTER 29

Bristol

Another day of longing. Another day of anxiety.

And another day when I was questioning everything I knew.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” my father asked the moment I burst into his office.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re trying to railroad the Dmitriyev family.”

He sat back in his seat, darting his eyes back and forth. “What are you insinuating?”

“I read the email, Dad. I doubt I was supposed to be on the chain. You’re determined to take them down no matter what you need to do. I had to ask myself why. Why the terrible vendetta? But I think I know the answer.”

In the three days I’d been working with my father, I’d watched how he’d reacted to the Dmitriyev name. Just this morning, I’d also seen him behind closed doors with the chief of police, who I’d learned was a drinking buddy of his. Then I’d read a couple of memos. That had led me to believe he’d been the one to leak rumors to the press.

I’d tried so hard to shove aside the ugly thought my father could be on the take, but with every passing hour, it was becoming more and more difficult.

“I don’t think I like your tone, Bristol.” He noticed the open door and sighed.

I left it open, walking closer with my arms folded. I’d never been so enraged in my life, but I needed to stay calm. When I was right in front of his desk, I gave him a hard look. “Do you remember the night when I was little when I almost died in an explosion?”

He immediately narrowed his eyes. “I’m surprised you remember. You were so little.”

“It’s not much, but memories are fascinating creatures. They’re living and breathing. I never asked you. Why were we there?”

The test I’d thrown out at him failed. He wore no expression of confusion. Instead, there was a pointed look in his eyes that almost scared me.

“We were on vacation.”

“Wasn’t the party we were at private?”

He rose to his feet without saying anything. When he turned to face the window, a lump formed in my throat. Mikhail hadn’t lied to me.

“I had some business in Vegas, Bristol. The invite to the amusement park was a thank you.”

“You had business with Tristen O’Shaughnessy. Maybe that was because you’d just managed to get his son released from jail, his record expunged based on new evidence he wasn’t guilty. I was curious and went to look at the records for learning purposes only to find they’d been destroyed. Imagine my surprise.”

I’d thought he’d become terribly angry with me, but his shoulders slumped as if he’d been beaten. “I had no other choice, Bristol.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me when I was little that everyone always has a choice?”

When he turned around to face me, he appeared as if he’d aged ten years. “Not always, baby girl. I learned that the hard way. I almost lost you that night.”

“So you’re angry with anyone you think is involved with the mafia?”

“You don’t understand. There were and are extenuating circumstances.”

“That you won’t tell me.” I was getting angrier by the minute.