by Tabatha Kiss
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
She stops in front of me and smiles. “Would you like to hold him?”
I blink, quickly realizing that after everything that’s happened, I’ve never held my own son before. “Uh…”
Sofia doesn’t wait for an excuse. She leans in and extends her arms until Lucian sits in mine. I juggle him awkwardly, completely forgetting how to use my hands, but Sofia guides me, bending my arm to create a nook and laying my other hand on his back.
I can confidently say that my hands are more skilled than the average man but I’m trained in death. Cradling life in them is another game entirely but, after a moment, that terrifying feeling fades into pure warmth.
Lucian cranes his neck to look at me and recognition crosses his eyes, spurring a laugh from his gut.
“He remembers you,” Sofia says.
“He does?”
She stands beside me and places her hand over mine on his back. “Lucian,” she begins, “this is Luka Lutrova.” Her eyes wander up to mine. “He’s your father.”
I flinch. “That won’t confuse him now?”
“Oh, no,” she whispers, sliding a soft finger across his cheek. “Whenever a Zappia would hold him, he’d scream.”
I chuckle. “Smart kid.”
“Smarter than me,” she nods. “I think he’s always known where he belonged…”
I’m not sure I understand it but I’m not about to question it either.
***
“It’s about time…”
Yuri scolds me from the armchair as I enter the study.
I throw up my hands. “I was sleepy.”
My father says nothing. He leans against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest, just barely looking me in the eye. I expect his disappointment in me to last another few days, at least, until my mother can soothe it out of him — as she usually does.
Markov sits in the corner with his laptop, plucking slowly at the keys. He turns in his chair as I pass by him but waves at me to draw me closer and whisper in my ear.
“You knocked up the Zappia princess?”
The others must have filled him in this morning. If there’s anyone in this world whose look of disappointment stings more than my father’s, it’s Markov’s.
“Yeah,” I nod, feeling a soft pang of hesitation.
He stares at me for a long moment. Finally, the look of stern accusation melts away and he grins with sinful pride.
I smile and step away from him, leaving him alone to chuckle softly to himself while he works at his computer. At least somebody can see the humor in this situation.
“What did I miss?” I ask, taking the empty seat on the sofa next to Fox’s stiff posture.
While the rest of us sit with ease, Fox stays on his guard. I don’t exactly blame him. If I were a snake in the Lutrova house, I’d also suspect I might never slither out again but after what I saw of his skills last night, he doesn’t have much to worry about.
My plan to kill him grows more unlikely every minute.
My father gestures at Fox. “Show him,” he says, flicking a finger at me.
“Show me what?” I ask.
Fox raises his shirt to reveal his torso.
I look down, my eyes instantly drawn to the black ink cobra printed from his chest down to his navel, along with several white scars scattered around his skin. He’s earned his skills, that much I’m sure about.
“That is what I saw,” my father says, pointing at it, “down in the cellar when I was a boy.”
“Every Snake Eyes agent has one,” Fox says to me, dropping his shirt.
“Looks painful,” I note.
“It was.”
“How many of you are there?” Yuri asks.
“Hundreds, maybe,” Fox answers. “I can’t say for sure exactly. Once you’re recruited, you’re assigned to a squad — usually made up of less than a dozen agents or so. Your squad leader is as high up the chain as you’ll ever see unless you’re promoted but that’s rare.”
“Who is at the top?” I ask.
He shrugs his shoulders. “I never met her.”
“Her?” Yuri repeats.
“That’s the only thing the average agent knows about The Boss but my squad leader seemed pretty close to her. They spoke often.”
“Will she be on this list?” I ask.
“Theoretically,” he nods, “we all should be.”
“Including the agent who killed Viktor Lutrova?” my father asks.
We all look at him and Fox nods.
“Yes, sir.”
My father scratches his chin and glances at Markov’s back with anticipation. “Markov, how’s it going?”
“Patience, Niko,” he snaps without turning around. “I am good but not fast.”
He sighs with impatience and looks at Fox again. “And all of this is true?”
“Yes,” Fox says. “I have no reason to lie to you, Mr. Lutrova.”
“And I have no reason to trust you, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” he counters.
“I don’t blame you for doubting me. I would, too, in your shoes, but Snake Eyes stole my life out from under me. I never wanted to be a part of this at all.”
“You say you were recruited?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I was a sniper for the U.S. Army, stationed in Afghanistan,” he says. “My team stumbled upon an operation of theirs and — long story short — I killed two of their agents.”
“And they didn’t retaliate?”
“Snake Eyes values talent more than vengeance,” he says. “Either I worked for them or no one at all, so… I joined up and I waited for the right opportunity to present itself.”
“Why choose this one?” my father asks.
Fox gives him a look of respect. “Your family’s history with Snake Eyes is well-known within the organization, Mr. Lutrova. I knew you’d benefit from it the most.”
“And if not?” he asks, recrossing his arms. “What if my sons had said no?”
Fox tilts his head. “Then I would have done my job and waited for the next opportunity.”
It’s honest. Almost too honest.
Yuri stiffens in his chair and we both wait on needles, staring straight up into my father’s hard, unblinking eyes.
Finally, he nods. “You’re a brave man, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”
“There is no bravery in what I’ve done.”
“Then what do you call it?”
“Selfishness.”
“You spared my sons and helped rescue my grandson and his mother,” my father says. “You have an odd definition of selfishness.”
Fox says nothing.
Finally, my father looks at me. I expected it to take far longer than one night before he referred to Lucian as his grandson. Either the man’s grown soft in his old age or my mother’s just that good.
“Sofia,” he says.
“What about her?” I ask.
“Is she okay?”
“She will be.”
“You plan on keeping her, then?”
“I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but yes.”
He takes a deep breath. “Luka…”
“He killed Rosalie in front of her,” I say, barely keeping my calm. “Sofia was covered in her blood when we found her. She had bruises on her face. You saw it yourself. I won’t send her back to that.”
“She is his wife.”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
“It’s not that simple, Luka.”
“I’m making it that simple.” I talk over him, fanning the anger in him. “Look, I get it. You spent years forcing a truce down our throats but the truth is that everyone was just pretending. The Lutrovas and the Zappias were never meant to co-exist and we never will.”
“This truce was good for our family,” he argues. “If Antony and I had not intervened when we did, this house would have been burned to the ground — with all of us inside of it.”
“I would rath
er we be ashes than slaves.”
Yuri holds up his hands. “Luka, come on—”
“No,” I snap. “Viktor Lutrova never would have pussyfoot around the Zappias or their way. When snakes entered Russia, he drove them back out. Now, they laugh at us. By allowing them to roam free, you’ve destroyed our family’s name.”
“And look what happened to him,” my father says. “Would you prefer I paid the same price?”
“I would prefer strength. I think all of this could have been avoided if you had done something instead of turning a blind eye.”
He falls quiet and stares at me.
“Sofia and Lucian stay with me,” I say. “Whether or not we stay on this estate is up to you.”
I stand up from my seat and scan the room as I march towards the door. Yuri’s wide eyes tell me everything. Markov’s silence tells me even more. Even Fox looks a bit nervous, as he should be.
“Luka.”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob and glance back at my father. “Yes, sir?”
“You will stay.”
Yuri visibly exhales.
“And Sofia?” I ask.
He snorts. “Nina will have my balls if I expel that boy.”
I let go of the doorknob.
“You will all stay,” he continues, softly nodding. “The Zappias won’t be happy but… they’ve had their way long enough.”
“I agree,” I say.
He takes a thick breath and looks to the corner again. “Markov?”
Markov waves a silent hand and spins around in his chair to get back to work.
“Now what?” Yuri asks, finally breathing again.
“We will go to Chicago,” my father answers, his voice firm. “I will speak to Antony myself. If he cannot see reason… then we will show strength.” His eyes fall on me again. “You love this woman.”
It’s not a question but I answer it anyway. “Yes.”
“I cannot condone what you’ve done, Luka.”
“I know.”
“But I cannot condemn it, either…”
I nod. That’s as close to approval as I’ll ever get. For a second, I see respect and understanding in his eyes. I’ve never thought of my father as an empathetic man but maybe I was wrong.
“Your mother…” he smirks, “she says he has my chin.”
I breathe a short laugh. “He does.”
He bounces his brow and looks out the window by his desk.
The twinge of breaking glass tears the silence and a bullet pierces his eye.
Markov rises from his chair. “Nikolai—!”
Crimson blood pours down my father’s face and strikes the wall behind him, expelled from the exit wound at the back of his skull. He slumps forward and tumbles to the floor before I can even take another breath.
Everything stops, seized by darkness in slow motion. Yuri jumps to his feet and we both rush forward as Fox bolts over the sofa and throws the window curtains closed.
I fall to my knees beside my father and slide a hand beneath his head. “Pops…”
Warm blood coats my palm. He weighs heavy in my grasp, moving without any resistance in his muscles. I look down into his open left eye, this one glazed over with more gray than usual.
Yuri reaches down and shakes his shoulders in a childish attempt at waking him. “Pops!”
I lay his head back down as shock turns to sadness. It only lasts a second. Rage overwhelms everything and I stand up to move towards the windows.
“It’s them,” Fox says, peeking outside through a narrow slit in the curtain.
“Them who?” Yuri asks.
“Snake Eyes,” I answer.
Fox nods and points outside with his pinky finger. “The sniper is in the trees. Just over that ridge.”
“You’re sure?”
“That’s where I’d be. Avoid the windows.”
I keep my eye on Fox. He maintains his eerie calmness like he’s seen all of this before. “Can you take him out?”
“If I had my rifle, yes.”
“Where is it?”
“Under the couch upstairs.”
“Go get it,” I tell him. “Climb the east stairwell to the roof and knock him to the fucking ground.”
Fox hesitates.
I flex my jaw. “I don’t have time for your resistance to kill right now, Fox.”
“It’s not that,” he says. “This wasn’t a normal hit. This was a distraction.”
“From what?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He glances at my father on the floor. “They don’t make themselves known until it’s too late to stop them.”
Yuri pulls himself off the floor. “What does that mean?”
“It means they’re already inside.”
I look at Markov as he reaches for the radio on his belt.
“Sergei!” he says into the radio. “Boris!”
Nothing but silence. I turn around and throw open the bottom drawer in my father’s desk to retrieve the pistols hidden inside.
Markov sighs into the radio. “Somebody please say something.”
I pass a gun to Yuri and he instantly slides a bullet into the chamber. “We go together,” I say. “Find Ma and Sofia—”
Yuri raises his gun and points it at Fox’s face.
Fox presents his hands, raising them slowly in calm surrender.
I grab my brother’s wrist. “Yuri, what are you doing?”
“He’s one of them.”
“No, I’m not,” Fox says.
I try to lower his arm but Yuri shakes me off. “Put it down, Yuri—”
“He’s been here all night,” Yuri says, his eyes locked on Fox. Markov reaches behind his back for his own weapon and Fox watches with sharp eyes. “He’s seen the grounds. He knows where the guards would be. He could have led them in.”
Fox shakes his head. “I didn’t.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been playing us from the start.”
I look from him to my father’s corpse and I squeeze my gun’s grip a little tighter. There’s logic in Yuri’s reasoning, more than I’d like to admit. No one’s ever breached the Lutrova estate before until now.
Not until a snake slithered inside in camouflage.
“Luka…” Fox says, sensing my shift. “I had nothing to do with this.”
I raise my gun but he doesn’t even flinch. Only his eyes move, quickly targeting all of our locations but there’s no way he can dodge three bullets at once. I don’t care how well-trained he is.
“You’re making a mistake,” he says, his voice as solid as stone. “Think about it.”
There’s no time to think it through. Fox Fitzpatrick is a loose end; always has been. Whether he’s double-crossed us or not is irrelevant.
Never let a snake loose in Moscow.
Markov takes a wide step closer to Fox, coming within a meter of him and I inhale a sharp breath.
“Markov—!”
Fox grabs his arm and twists his hand, pulling him around to use him as a shield. He rests the gun’s barrel against Markov’s throat and lays his finger on the trigger before either of us can react.
Yuri panics and fires once but misses them both by a wide margin.
“Yuri, stop!” I keep my gun trained on Fox. “Let him go.”
Fox slides on his toes, inching slowly towards the door, keeping Markov between us and him the entire way.
“There’s no time for this,” he says. “Trust me or not — it doesn’t change the fact that they came in here for a reason.”
Sofia.
“Shoot him, Luka,” Markov growls.
My finger wraps tighter around the trigger and I stare at Fox over Markov’s shoulder. Even now, there’s not a hint of panic in his eyes. He’s in complete control and we both know it. Either he’s a total sociopath that deserves to be put down or I’m about to lose a very valuable ally.
I add another pound of pressure to the trigger and he squints.
Fox shoves Markov forward and spins around, dart
ing out into the hallway. I fire off a few rounds, narrowly missing him as he disappears out of sight.
I bolt after him and peek around the door frame in time to see him reach the end of the hall and rush up the stairs to the second floor.
Yuri helps Markov to his feet. “Go after him!”
I pause and shake my head. “Leave him. Head for the kitchen. Avoid the windows.”
We enter the hallway, ducking and hugging the walls as we move. I focus my hearing, listening for anything that will pinpoint an incoming attack but nothing stands out. In fact, I hear nothing at all. The house is too quiet. There are no guards in sight when we should have passed three already. There are no bodies. No drops of blood or signs of struggle.
I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so fucking furious.
Finally, I hear it; that devastating sound. It pierces so deep, it rattles my bones.
Lucian.
He cries out, screaming from behind the kitchen door.
I burst through it, driven by a powerful, uncontrollable instinct and his wailing becomes louder.
“Luka!”
I hear Sofia’s voice but a hard kick to the head brings dark spots to my vision. Black, gloved hands grab me and shove me down to my knees while Yuri and Markov grunt in pain behind me and fall to the floor with hard thuds.
My gun slips from my fingers, yanked free by a trained hand. I move to break out of their hold on me but as I look up and my vision clears, I feel the gun barrels press against my skull.
There are five of them standing around me, each one dressed all in black. Just like the hissing man in Moscow. Just like Fox Fitzpatrick in the warehouse in Rome.
I yield and look forward into Sofia’s shaking eyes.
She sits at the table with her palms lying flat against it. Tears spill down her face and I grit my teeth at the gun pressed against her cheek.
My eyes fall to the floor in front of me and I cringe at my mother’s unconscious form lying face down beneath the table.
“What do you think, Lutrova?”
I look up into Gio’s victorious eyes. He smirks down at me with my screaming son draped over his other arm.
“Am I trying hard enough to kill you this time?”
Chapter 21
Sofia
“Let him go,” Luka says, his protective eyes locked on our child. “He doesn’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual…” Gio glares at Lucian and spins around to drop him back into the high chair beside me. “Shut him up,” he spits at me.
