Page 83 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

I’m falling. Not literally, but everything inside me is collapsing like a building with its supports cut away.

“No,” I rasp. “My father was a good man. He dedicated his life to helping people.”

“He dedicated his life to helping the right people. Usually, the ones who signed his paychecks.”

I clutch the edge of the desk to keep from falling. “Stop.”

“He made quite a fortune over the years. How do you think he afforded to send both his children to the best schools? How do you think you got your clothes, your cars, the food on your table, the roof over your head?”

“Stop talking.”

“The best part? He convinced everyone he was a saint. Even convinced himself, I think.” He pauses and clicks his tongue. “Toward the end, he started getting squeamish about the business, though. Wanted out. He couldn’t live with the guilt anymore.”

My father’s words echo in my memory: I’ve made choices I’m not proud of. Choices that kept you and your brother safe, but that I’ll have to answer for someday.

I thought he was talking about working too much, for God’s sake. About missing school plays and soccer games.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“He refused the liver transplant because he thought he deserved to die,” I whisper in dawning horror.

“Probably. Guilt has a way of eating people alive from the inside out.” Ihor tucks his hands in his pockets.

“But his work lives on. Every organ we harvest, every life we save by providing transplants to those who can afford them—it’s all built on your father’s foundation.

We owe him a great, great debt of gratitude. ”

I sink into Jeremy’s chair, my legs no longer capable of supporting me. Everything I believed about my family, about my father, about the man who raised me to value life above all else—it’s all been a lie.

“Why are you telling me this?” I rasp.

“Because I want you to understand that this isn’t about good versus evil.

You think medicine is such a high and mighty pursuit, but at the end of the day, it simply is not.

It’s just about money, dear. Like everything else.

Your father understood that. Jeremy understands that.

And deep down, I think you understand it, too. ”

I’m speechless now. It’s like a vacuum has opened up in my head, a black hole, and it’s sucking into its gut everything I ever believed in.

“We could use someone with your skills, Vesper,” he continues. “Think about it—you could make enough money to ensure Luka never wants for anything. You could secure your own future, Kovan’s future. It would be very, very easy.”

I stare at Ihor’s face, searching for any sign that this is all some elaborate prank. But his eyes are completely serious.

He actually thinks I might say yes.

“You want me to help you murder children.”

“I want you to help us save lives ,” he tuts.

“The lives of people who matter. People with resources, with connections, with something to contribute to society.” His tone grows colder.

“Do you really think some welfare brat from the projects is worth more than a senator’s son?

Is some illegal immigrant’s kidney more valuable than a Fortune 500 CEO’s? ”

“Yes,” I say vehemently. “Every life is worth the same.”

I can’t sit here anymore. If I listen to another word of this, I’m going to vomit.

“I’m going to stop you.”

He just shakes his head. “You keep saying that, and I’m starting to fear you might be stupid.

Stop us how? Better yet, stop us why ? If we go down, you know who goes down with us?

Kovan. And if Kovan goes down, then, well…

Do you know of any frightened little boys who will be returned to their evil mother and stepfather? ”

I can’t— I won’t— Fuck me, if I don’t scream right now, I’m going to go insane.

Ihor must see me suffering in absolute anguish, because he looks down on me in pity. “I’ll give you the room to think. You look like you could use it.”

Then he starts sauntering toward the door, whistling as he goes. But just before he leaves, he stops and turns back.

“One more thing, Vesper.” He exhales sadly, like he truly regrets whatever he’s about to say.

“Whatever you’re planning to do, you should know: Kovan already suspects you’re getting too close to the truth.

Why do you think he’s been avoiding you?

Why do you think he’s been sleeping in another room, hm? ”

I freeze in place.

“He knows you’re too proud for this nasty business. And he’s terrified that when you figure out who he really is, you’ll leave him.” Ihor’s laugh is soft, almost pitying. “The irony is, he’s right. You will leave him. The only question is whether you’ll destroy him in the process.”

I can’t speak. I might never speak again.

Ihor nods. “You’ll come around eventually. They always do.”

And then he’s gone. I sit there for what feels like the cruelest eternity. An endless purgatory of horror on horror on horror.

But eventually, the horror starts to recede. In its place, something new rears up. Something hot and fierce and untamable.

Anger.

I feel anger on behalf of every little boy and girl who suffered at the hands of that miserable son of a bitch. Ihor thinks he has me cornered, that I’m too meek and cowed and outsmarted to do anything about his evil.

But he’s wrong. Him and Jeremy are both so fucking wrong.

I will not be quiet. I will not turn a blind eye. I will not go quietly.

I will do what must be done.

I pull up Jeremy’s computer and start typing.