Page 167 of Betrayal and Vows

“Nope.”

“Good, me either.”

Even before we step out of the car, I can smell it. Salt. Old blood. Fear. The place used to be part of a fish-processing line decades ago.

Now, it’s the grounds we and other families use to handle business.

I can’t count the number of bodies that have passed through this place. Some dead by my hand. Others, I just helped with the disposal.

It feels like this is the right place for this to happen.

Dmitri stands beside me as we approach the open door. He’s quiet for probably the first time in his life. Neither of us truststhis meeting, but I’ve stopped running. If Vadim wants war, he’ll have to look me in the eyes to start it.

Shocker.

Vadim isn’t alone.

Inside, shadows gather like vultures. Mikhail’s men line the walls. Vadim is already there, seated like a king on a folding chair, Mikhail grinning at his side. Vadim looks up—smiles.

“Anton,” he says, voice warm. Too warm. Like syrup poured over a blade. “You came. I had a feeling you would.”

I walk closer, boots echoing against the concrete floor. Dmitri flanks me.

“Of course I came. I want to look into your eyes when I kill your son. And then you.”

Vadim chuckles.

Mikhail reaches for his gun, but Vadim holds up a hand.

“It’s a sad thing, don’t you think?” Vadim says.

I pointedly look at Mikhail. “He is definitely a sad thing.”

“Fucker,” Mikhail hisses. “I’ll kill you.”

Once again, Vadim gestures, ordering him to shut up.

I see movement to the right. Natalia, Vadim’s wife, strolls across the cement floor stained with dark spots.

Blood.

She moves to stand on Vadim’s other side.

It’s the picture of power.

At least that’s the image they are trying to project.

“Did you really think I didn’t know who you were?” Vadim says, eyes locked on mine. “My firstborn. My mistake. My disappointment.”

I say nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore.

That might have come as a surprise if I hadn’t found the pictures in his safe.

But apparently, Natalia and Mikhail were not aware Vadim knew who I was. They sure as hell didn’t know who I truly was.

“I’m your firstborn,” Mikhail says.

“He is your son, not that bastard.” Natalia spits on the floor.