Page 52 of Twisted Fate

I nod, my chest tightening as I look at him. There’s a gleam in his eyes, a passion, that I can’t help but be drawn to. This is a man who believes in what he’s saying. Who feels deeply about what’s happening, and what he wants.

“I had these ideas already,” he continues.

“But after we talked last night—I think that will be my focus, as much as I can manage. I’m done trying to change his mind, done trying to make him understand me.

You understand me. I can see it, and it made me realize what it feels like to have someone look at me and see what I’m trying to do.

I’m going to build what I can—the new alongside the old, until the old is gone, and then I’ll branch off from there.

” He pauses and reaches across the table, his fingers brushing mine.

“I want to build something that will last, even more so than the Abramov family already has. Something I can be proud of. Something that makes me feel that I haven’t only caused pain in my life. ”

He doesn’t need to say that this vision includes me.

I can see it in his eyes, in the look on his face, the earnestness and pride and caring written there.

It’s a look that’s dangerously close to a word that I’m too terrified of to even allow myself to think it, and I close myself off to it abruptly, like doors and windows slamming shut in my mind.

But shutting it down doesn’t change what he feels. What I feel. We don’t have to put a name to it or say it out loud for it to be true.

In the end, though, it doesn’t matter.

I’m going to kill Konstantin Abramov, sooner or later.

I squeeze his hand, swallowing hard. “You can do it,” I tell him, lying through my teeth, because I know he won’t live to see his dream realized. “I believe you can.”

I’ve never thought of what I’m destroying before, when I kill someone. Of the hopes and dreams and plans and futures that all die with them. They’ve all been despicable men before, so I guess I never thought that any of that was worthwhile. It was better that it all died too.

But it feels like I’m killing more than just a man, now. I’m killing a future. Potential.

Maybe a dream of my own, too.

We finish our lunch, talking, discussing the city and what we’d like to explore in it as if we have all the time in the world. As far as Konstantin knows, we do. But I can feel the weight of all my lies pressing down on my shoulders, weighing me down.

I know what I’m going to have to do. But it’s never felt so impossible before.

I take the car that Konstantin sent earlier back to the penthouse after lunch, that weight settled on my shoulders so heavily that it feels almost physical.

My mind is spinning with everything that’s happened over the last few days—with the memory of Konstantin’s touch, the sound of his voice saying my name, whispering filthy things in my ear.

The hope in his voice when he talked about his plans this afternoon, the passion when he talked about making something that lasts.

I have no doubt that if this marriage were real, if I let him devote that same passion to it that he does to all of his other dreams, it would be something incredible.

I kick off my heels as soon as I walk into the penthouse, padding across the cool wooden floor to the long floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the water and the Miami skyline.

It all glitters in the afternoon sun—my favorite view in all the world, but it only makes my heart feel heavier, looking at it today.

This city that Konstantin wants to transform, to make his own in a way his father never could.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and my heart drops. My gut tells me that it’s not Konstantin calling again. That it’s someone else—someone who I’ve never dreaded speaking to before, but am now.

With a deep breath, I answer. "Hello?"

"Valentina." Kane's voice is sharp, impatient. The sound of it cuts through me like a knife. "Do you have anything for me?"

My stomach twists. I could tell him no. That I haven’t learned anything yet. That I need more time. But I’ve never lied to him before, and I’m not sure that I could do it now.

And what would be the point? What would I gain, other than more time with the man that I’m inevitably going to have to kill? More time that will only serve to make me fall?—

“Yes.” I bite out the word, crisp and clipped as his voice a moment ago. “I couldn’t get away to call you yet. I was going to this afternoon.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” The silkiness in his tone makes me think that he doesn’t entirely believe me. “So what have you learned?”

"Konstantin and his father are planning a meeting with Don Genovese and the Slakov patriarch. They're going to invite them to the mansion, supposedly to discuss territory."

“But with other intentions.”

“Yes.” I bite my lip. “They’re going to eliminate the don and the Slakov pakhan . Send a message that the Abramovs are not to be threatened.”

“When?” Kane sounds thoughtful.

“A week from now, if they accept. Victor’s man was going to talk to them. Konstantin hasn’t told me anything more yet.”

“Then the hit is back on.” Kane’s voice is calm, collected, but the words slice through me like knives in my flesh. “If the Abramovs kill Genovese and Slakov, it will destabilize everything even further."

I swallow hard, trying to regulate my breathing, my voice, my entire fucking nervous system.

If Kane hears the slightest hesitation in my voice, the slightest hint that I’ve started to fall for the enemy, he’ll pull me off the mission.

He’ll send someone else, and I won’t get what he promised me.

He’ll keep me indentured to him, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get free.

If I’ll ever get the vengeance I’ve craved all this time.

"You need to kill Konstantin before that meeting," Kane continues, and I feel my stomach clench, twisting in on itself.

"With him dead, and clear evidence that someone else did it—someone from outside the family—Victor will be forced to find a new heir.

Things will continue as they have been. The balance will be maintained. "

My throat tightens. "You want me to frame someone else?"

"No need," Kane says dismissively. "It’s enough that it’s made apparent that it wasn’t Genovese or the Slakovs.

Leave something that hints that it was someone else.

Him in bed naked, traces of foul play from a woman he brought home.

You don’t need to frame a specific person, just leave a pointless trail for the cops and Abramov to follow.

The murderer will never be found, especially with you back home safely where you belong. "

Home. The word sounds hollow now. Even as recently as when we came back to Miami, I longed to go back to Kane’s mansion, to everything that was familiar there. But something has changed. Shifted, between Konstantin and me.

When Kane said home , I didn’t think of lemon and flowers and the pineapple-scented candle in my room, the view of the gardens outside.

I thought of this place, of the views of the water, of the scent of Konstantin’s cologne, of the look in his eyes when he set me on the edge of the table last night.

I thought of things that aren’t really mine to have, things I was never going to be able to keep.

"Valentina?" Kane's voice sharpens. "Are you still there?"

"Yes." I force myself to focus. "And the fact that I haven’t gotten any other information on him? Nothing more helpful?”

“We need to stop this now.” Kane's tone is dismissive. "Victor will find someone who thinks the way he does, and the peace will be kept among the families. That’s what this job was always meant to accomplish. You need to finish it. You kill him."

I close my eyes, fighting against the wave of nausea that threatens to overwhelm me. "And after..." I clear my throat before my voice can crack and give me away. "After I do it, you'll give me the name? The person who killed my family?"

"As promised." Kane's voice softens slightly, taking on that tone that he uses when he’s trying—and often failing—to be fatherly. "You've been patient, Valentina. You've earned your freedom. Do this job, and you’re done."

I take in a slow breath, nodding. “Alright. I’ll have it done soon.”

“By tomorrow night, Valentina. Don’t let me down.”

I force an easy tone into my voice. “I never have.”

“Good girl.” The approval in his voice turns my stomach once again. "Call me when it's done. I’ll have you extracted and send cleaners to set up the scene the way we want it."

There’s no further conversation, no goodbye. The line goes dead, and I drop the phone onto the couch beside me. I stare out at the ocean, at the endless blue horizon that has always seemed so beautiful to me.

Now it just looks empty.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall, burning the backs of my eyes. I've never cried over a job before. I've never hesitated, never questioned. I've always followed Kane's orders without a second thought.

But this suddenly feels unimaginable.

I don’t know how long I stand there, wrestling with a choice that I’ve already made.

I have no way out. I can’t call Kane and back out now.

His trust would vanish in an instant. He’d send me all the way back to the bottom, make me spend years climbing that ladder again, reaching for his good graces.

I might never get the name, never get my revenge.

I’d probably die on some too-dangerous job long before I got the chance again.

And I can’t tell Konstantin the truth. Even if I wanted to come clean, put myself on Kane’s hit list, and take my chances, Konstantin would kill me. The desire, the caring, the love that I see in his eyes would fade, and he would hate me.

He’d hurt me for what I’ve done. Torture answers out of me. Kill me, when I refused to give anything up. And maybe it would hurt him to do it—but he would, because I’ve lied to him. Because the woman he fell in love with isn’t real.

But how I feel is. And there have been moments…

I close my eyes tightly. It doesn’t matter. There was only ever one outcome to this, and it’s the one that needs to happen in the next twenty-four hours. One way or another.

When the afternoon light fades into evening, I force myself upstairs to change into a flowy yellow sundress that ends at my knees, ready for dinner with Konstantin.

He told me that he’d be bringing home dinner, and I want to look as beautiful for him as I did last night, to draw him in, to keep him tangled in my web.

And also… just because I want to see that look in his eyes, at least one more time.