Because Alexei Petrov telling me he’s not a monster is like hearing a fire-breathing dragon who’s just roasted a whole village alive swoop down on the destruction he’s unleashed and tell the sole survivor that he’s innocent of any wrongdoing… before eating him in one bite.
A thousand images flash through my mind — all the horrendous crime scenes he’s had a hand in, every mob-hit this man has ordered. Every awful thing he’s done over his four-decade reign of terror. All the lives he’s ruined, whether directly through his actions or indirectly, through the sale of illegal arms, drugs, and trafficking victims.
I suppose it’s par for the course: true monsters never see themselves as such.
Alexei takes a few more steps until only a handful of feet separate us. At this proximity, his dark eyes are even more expressionless.
“Do you know who I am?” he asks lowly.
I hesitate a beat, then nod.
“Good.”
At that, he reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a switchblade. I start to panic, backpedaling straight into an Evanoff-shaped wall. They clamp down on my shoulders, holding me still with viciously tight grips that halt my struggles. Subdued, all I can do is watch with wide, terrified eyes as that knife swipes out toward me…
And slices cleanly through the zip-tie around my wrists.
I’m so stunned to be, well,breathing, I barely have time to brace myself as Alexei reaches up and rips the duct-tape off my mouth in a harsh tug that makes me gasp in pain. Tears spring to my eyes. It takes all my strength to keep them from falling; to straighten my spine and shake off the bruising grip on my shoulders.
When our eyes meet again, Alexei nods his approval. “Now, then. We have much to discuss.”
I simply stare at him, unsure of what — if anything — he expects me to say.
Hey, nice to meet you! Thanks for having your thugs kidnap me, dragging me to this creepy murder site, and generally just scaring the shit out of me. Bygones!
“You’ve been married to my nephew for nearly a decade,” Alexei says. “Is that correct?”
I nod.
“And, during that time, were you aware of his connection to the Petrov family?”
I shake my head.
“And are youINCAPABLE OF SPEECH?”
His sudden switch from murmur to roar makes me flinch along with both Evanoffs. The scream strikes the air like a thunderclap, hits the far walls, then echoes back at us like a shout from a disembodied ghost.
“N-no, sir,” I force myself to say, doing my best not to cower. Or cry. “Quite capable.”
“Good.” He’s back to normal volume, as though the outburst never occurred. “Now. Do you know why you are here?”
My mind spins as I consider how much I should reveal. Honestly, I never expected to live this long if confronted with Alexei Petrov. Thus, I’ve never before considered what I’d say or do if I someday found myself in his — it must be said — super freaking intimidating presence.
Given the fact that even Righty and Lefty are damn close to peeing their pants every time he glances their way, I decide it’s best to keep things as vague as humanly possible. The less I say, the lower the odds of pissing him off.
I think.
Maybe.
“My patience is expiring rapidly,” he informs me. “If you are honest with me, you have nothing to fear.”
Nothing to fear except literally everything about this situation.
I take a steadying breath. “I know Paul has gotten himself into trouble at work. But until a few days ago, I didn’t even know he’d left his job at the consulting firm.”
“You weren’t aware he was working for me?”
“Forgive me, but… I didn’t even know who you were until a few days ago. Paul didn’t tell me about his family connections.”