Page 118 of Savage Hearts

“It’s all the preservatives in the candy. What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Shoulda guessed. What do you do in your free time besides watch American crime dramas?”

“Come here as often as I can. Hunt. Read. Hike. Watch the stars. When I’m in the city, I don’t do much except handle work.”

“Work.”

He nods. I get that he won’t describe the nitty-gritty. “And how did you get into your line of work?”

He inhales deeply and looks at the ceiling. After he exhales, he’s quiet for a while. “By accident.”

“Meaning?”

He closes his eyes. A muscle slides in his jaw. “I killed a man in a bar fight when I was seventeen.”

He’s silent again. Lost in memory. I can tell whatever he’s remembering is painful for him and wait quietly for him to continue as I stroke his beard.

“He was harassing my brother. Mikhail wasn’t a big guy. And he was quiet. Smart and quiet. The kind of kid bullies gravitate to. We were on a family trip with our parents, visiting our aunt in Moscow. Mik and I went to a bar after our parents went to bed. I came out of the restroom and found this asshole talking shit to Mik. I told him to fuck off. He didn’t like that. Threw a punch that missed. I threw one back that connected. Next thing I know, he’s on the floor, face covered in blood, not moving. He never got up.”

Drawing a slow breath, he opens his eyes and looks at me. “He was Bratva. First cousin of Pakhan, just my fucking luck.”

“Pakhan?”

“It’s an honorific title. Means the big boss. King. Everyone inthe bar knew the guy I hit was connected. Before the police could get there, Pakhan rolled up with a dozen of his soldiers. Said me and my whole family could eat bullets to pay my debt, or Mik and I could go to work for him. Obviously, he didn’t like his cousin much, or we would’ve been dead on the spot.

“Pakhan put Mik in a street crew working as a lookout on jobs. It’s the lowest position in the Bratva, but within a year, he was leading his own crew. Like I said, he was smart. Knew how to navigate tricky situations. Made himself valuable. Kept moving up.”

“And you?”

“I made myself valuable, too. Only there was no upward mobility in my position. I stayed right where I started out, because nobody could do for Pakhan what I could.”

His voice drops. “I proved to be extremely talented at making his enemies vanish.”

He’s silent for a long while, lost somewhere in his head.

Then he draws a slow breath and continues.

“Pakhan liked Mik. Trusted him. Knew the death of his cousin was really my fault, not Mik’s, so when Mik eventually asked permission to go to America, he got it.”

“Why did he want to go to America?”

“Same reason everybody does: opportunity. Pakhan knew Mik was ambitious. Knew he’d eventually outgrow his position here. Knew that a lot of his soldiers would defect if Mik made a move to take over. And I think he genuinely liked Mik. He didn’t want to have to kill him if it came to that, so he sent him off with his blessing. Told him his debt was paid.

“Mine, however, would never be paid. I was the one who took his cousin’s life. My debt wouldn’t be paid until I drew my last breath, one way or the other.”

I rest my cheek on his chest. He cradles my head in one hand and rubs the other slowly up and down my spine.

“Our parents were dead by the time Mik went to America.Killed in an avalanche, if you can fucking believe that. The aunt we stayed with in Moscow died of cancer. Her husband had a heart attack. That was our entire family, so Mik and I were the only Antonovs left.”

He swallows. “Then Mik was killed.”

His voice is rough with emotion. Under my ear, his heart beats strong and fast.

I close my eyes and squeeze him. For the first time since all this started, I’m furious with Declan.

But this is their life, Declan’s and Malek’s both. Kill or be killed. There’s no other option.