Elena was going to take that from her. She was going to steal her best friend’s happily ever after at the same time that she destroyed her own.
Hand trembling, Elena clutched the knife tighter than she had before. She tucked it for the most part up her sleeve, the cool metal tight against the skin of her wrist. It was a constant reminder of the job she had set out to do.
“Excuse me!” a small voice called from down the hall. Elena stopped. Her heart jumped into her throat. “Ms. Popov?”
Elena turned. One of the Sokolov maids was on her way down the hall, a smile on her face. Elena didn’t know her name, but she recognized her from the times they’d passed in the halls. The maid carried a set of sheets under her arm.
“Yes?” Elena managed.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you. I know that you’re busy. It’s just… I was wondering if I should have your belongings moved? Maybe it’s a little presumptuous of me, but you’re a part of the family now, and I noticed you’ve been… well… you know.” She smiled kindly. “It wouldn’t be any problem to move you into your gentleman’s room. Viktor has already been discussing it.”
“Oh.” Elena plastered a fake smile onto her face. “That’s kind of you to ask. For now, I think I’m happy where I am. A girl needs her privacy every now and then, new as things are.”
“Oh, of course, of course.” The maid chuckled. She tucked a gray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, if you change your mind, you let me know. I’ve been working for the Sokolovs since I was small, and let me tell you, there is nothing I love more than seeing the men I’ve worked for and come to know as co-workers find their happiness. I’m so glad that our Roman has found a girl as pretty as you. I’m glad you found your way to us.”
“I’m glad, too,” Elena choked out. The words had been hard to speak, and Elena was surprised she’d gotten them out at all. “Thank you for making me feel so welcome.”
“Any time.” There was a moment’s pause, and then the maid shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to work. There are plenty of sheets to change in a place this big, you know, and if I don’t get them done, there’ll be hell to pay! See you soon, dear.”
“See you soon,” Elena said softly. She watched as the maid headed back down the hall and disappeared through a doorway. The metal against her skin had started to warm.
Can I go through with this? Can I really kill Viktor, even though I know my father isn’t the man I thought he was? The Sokolovs are better family to me than my father ever was… but it took me too long to figure that out. And Roman…
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull herself back together. The fact that her father was a bad man was why she needed to see the assassination through. If she didn’t kill Viktor, her own life would be on the line. Her father wouldn’t kill her, she didn’t think… but he’d do away with her in other ways. Her decline would be slow and painful, just like her mother’s had been. She’d suffer for her betrayal, and likely be better off dead if she didn’t do this.
At least she could make Viktor’s death quick.
Elena brushed the tears from her eyes and resumed her route to Viktor’s bedroom. She’d start there in her search and narrow it down from room to room until she found him. The moment she found him alone, she’d do it. She’d take him out. It would be quick, and he wouldn’t suffer. She’d be the only one forced to endure the pain of this kill—for the rest of her life, she’d grieve what she’d done, just as her friend would grieve her husband. And Viktor could rest easy knowing that he’d haunt her every day.
Him and Roman—along with the life she could have had, but was being made to throw away.
Elena put her hand on the doorknob to Viktor’s room. She took a breath, then tugged the door open and stepped inside. A high-pitched shriek greeted her.
Alexandra, naked, was on the bed, seated on Viktor’s lap, and she’d been the first to see her. Elena gasped. Her friend wasn’t supposed to see this. She didn’t deserve to see her husband die… and she didn’t deserve to be dragged into the darkness of the Popov family.
“Elena?” Alexandra shrieked again. She scrambled to pull the blankets up around her naked body. “Get out! Get out!”
But Elena couldn’t do that, and she froze where she stood. It was too late for her to turn around. She was in too deep.
This would end today, whether Alexandra was there or not. She said her last goodbye to the future she could have had, then popped open the switchblade and rushed forward to end it all.
17
Roman
A scream pierced the upper floor of the Sokolov mansion and, with it, Roman’s heart. He recognized the voice—Alexandra.
Before he could process the sound, he was already running. Instincts overwhelmed him. Pulse pounding in his ears, he rushed down the hall and burst through the partially ajar bedroom door. The scene there brought him to a screeching halt. On the bed, beside Viktor, was Alexandra. She was tugging frantically at the blankets to try to hide her body. Roman caught a flash of skin, but his gaze didn’t stay focused on Alexandra for long. There was another threat—one he needed to address immediately. Elena, knife in hand, was rushing toward the bed.
A bellow died in Roman’s throat and was reborn as a roar. He bolted across the room after her, grabbed her by the wrist, and wrestled her to the floor. Elena, terrified, tensed beneath him. She lashed out and managed to pull her wrist from his grip, and he heard her sobbing out words he couldn’t understand. Then, with a primal cry, she shunted the knife into the nearest piece of flesh she could find—Roman’s side. The wound burned, but didn’t stop him.
Roman grunted in pain and grabbed her wrist again, squeezing until her grip loosened. Then, as searing pain lanced through his side, he pinned her to the floor and let out a shaky breath. “Elena.”
“R-Roman?” she gasped, and he saw helpless tears leaking from her eyes. She continued to struggle, but he held her down. There were sounds from the mattress—Viktor had risen from bed, entirely naked. He registered as little more than a shape in the corner of Roman’s eye. “You weren’t supposed to be here!” she sobbed, grunting and still attempting to get away. Oh my God… I hurt you, didn’t I? I didn’t know it was you,” she wailed.
“You didn’t want to hurt me?” he asked, dumbfounded. He had to hold back a laugh, even as his heart shattered. “If you didn’t want to hurt me, you wouldn’t have lied! All this time, you’ve been pulling the wool over our eyes, planning this. Did you really think you’d get away with something like this? Did you think that you could hide your loyalties?”
“You don’t understand!” Elena wailed again, breathlessly struggling against his hold. She squirmed anew beneath him, but he used the full force of his body to keep her pinned.
“I think I understand enough.”
No matter what he felt for her, he couldn’t let her get to Viktor. He would not allow her to die, but he would not put Viktor’s life in danger, either. Whatever he had to do to beg Viktor to forgive her and simply send her away, he would do it. His heart wouldn’t allow for anything else.
“It’s… stop!” Elena sounded choked. She squirmed again, but he refused to give her any leeway. His body throbbed around the knife, too hot to be real. It wasn’t the first time Roman had suffered from a serious injury, but this time was different. Had she ruptured his intestine? His kidney? He didn’t know. But there was blood, slick and plentiful, soaking through his shirt and down onto her below him, and the pain wasn’t abating. A dark ring suddenly surrounded the outer limits of his vision. “Roman!”
“You will not harm Viktor,” Roman said stiffly. Viktor’s hurried footsteps closed the distance between them, and Roman knew that if he moved and exposed Elena to his friend, that she would be killed. The attempt against his life was obvious—there was no other way to explain the knife now sunken into his side. Viktor would kill her without a second thought for her treachery.
Elena stilled beneath him, sobbing out, “Roman, you’re
bleeding! I hurt you! Please… please let me go! I won’t do anything else. Please, just… Let me take care of you!”
“Roman?” Viktor’s voice was arctic. “You will remove yourself from her immediately.”
Roman closed his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath and continued to hold Elena to the floor, his body effectively shielding hers, even as it restrained her. “No.”
“Roman.” The threat was plain in Viktor’s tone, but Roman couldn’t pay it heed. He understood that, by shielding an enemy of the Sokolovs, he was asking to be killed. Viktor would not spare a man whose heart bled for someone like Elena—a threat to Sokolov security, and a snake. But Roman had no choice. He’d hoped that he would have time to figure out what could be done—that he could have located Elena before she’d tried anything and pulled her off to the side to warn her to leave and never come back… but that wasn’t an option now. Elena had made her move, and he would pay for it.
“I will not move,” Roman said. He gritted his teeth. There was pressure behind his eyes that made his head feel too heavy, and the second he acknowledged it, dizziness began to set in. Blood loss, he realized. It wouldn’t be much longer before he passed out. With Viktor in a rage, Roman guessed that he might never wake up again. “I will not let you have her. She will not kill you, and you… you will not kill her.”
“Get up, Roman!” Viktor hissed. Roman felt fingers curl against the back of his head, tugging at his hair. Pain shot through his scalp, but he bit back on the cry of anguish that longed to burst from his gut and fought against Viktor’s hold. He would not lift his head. He would not expose Elena.
Elena, who was trembling and weeping. Elena, who’d stabbed him and potentially ended his life. Why did his heart continue to care for her after all she’d done? Why couldn’t he let her go?
“If you won’t get up, then I’ll have to force you up.” Seething anger dripped from Viktor’s decree. He hooked his hands into the back of Roman’s shirt and yanked, but Roman anchored himself down and wrapped his arms around Elena, keeping her safe. Elena sobbed loudly. She’d given up fighting against him. She had to know that she’d be killed, too… but, hopefully, she saw how he was fighting to protect her. Before she, too, was killed, he hoped she’d find solace in his final act.
“I won’t move,” Roman said through gritted teeth. “I won’t let you kill her, Viktor. I love her.”
Elena’s sobbing increased in intensity. She started to squirm again. “Roman!”
But even her voice sounded distant now. Roman struggled to keep his body rigid and heavy, for Viktor couldn’t tear him away from the only woman he would ever prioritize over his career, his friend. He had to stay firm a little longer. He needed to protect her until he was no longer able. And as the weight behind his eyes grew unbearable, and the dizziness in his head spiraled out of control, he knew that he was rapidly approaching that point.
There was no saving himself. There was no saving her. But he’d said what he’d needed to say, and he’d done what he’d needed to do—perhaps in death, he’d find respite. Whatever waited for him beyond the grave had to be happier than this.
18
Elena
Death was nothing like Elena had imagined it might be. It was terrifying, yes, but not the kind of terrifying that made her want to shriek or run or cower. It was made of a low dread that crawled through her stomach like insects through mulch. It lurked beneath her tongue and in the back of her throat. It crept silently and undid the stitches that held her together one by one until there was nothing left to keep her whole.
It was stealing Roman from her, and as it did, it was stripping her world away.
“Stop!” Elena begged him, sobbing beneath him. She was pinned under Roman’s body, and she felt the very moment when he started to sag. The tension that held the bulk of his weight off her body disappeared, and he crushed into her as nothing more than a collection of bones bound by skin and muscle. The blood that ran through his wound had long soaked into her clothes, and she knew it was of her doing. “Roman! Roman, I love you. Don’t leave me. Don’t die. Please, don’t die,” she sobbed, choking.
Bargaining with death never made a difference, though. It took what it wanted indiscriminately… and if she didn’t do something, it would take Roman, too. Elena didn’t know much about anatomy, but she knew by the blood alone that if Roman didn’t receive medical attention, he would die. She was pinned and couldn’t turn to see the extent of the damage, but she felt it. And with Viktor looming over both of them, trying desperately to tug Roman off of her so that he could end her life, Roman’s situation was only deteriorating.
“Viktor, please, have mercy! Stop! Help him!” All Elena could do was beg. Roman’s weight, even with him unconscious, kept her pinned. Her words were her only weapons, and she used them as best she could. “He’s not guilty in any of this! He’s loyal to you!”
“Says the one who has told nothing but lies,” Viktor snarled. He wrested Roman from off of her and threw him aside. In the few seconds it took, Elena scrambled back and rolled over, but it was too late. Roman hit the floor soundlessly, and Viktor descended upon her. He was naked, but somehow, he was even more ferocious than she’d ever seen him before. The fire that burned in his eyes was hateful, and Elena understood it well. She imagined how she would have felt if Alexandra had come into her bedroom to attack Roman. The low-creeping dread squirmed inside of her. It felt similar to seeing Roman hurt, and knowing that there was almost nothing she could do to save him.
“Did you think that you could win his heart and slip your way into my family so easily?” he demanded of her. “Did you think Roman would not be loyal to me? Even though you’ve twisted his heart and corrupted his mind, he lives to serve me. He understands pride. He is no dirty, low-life Popov drone—he is a man of his own will, and he has given his fealty to me,” Viktor growled, holding her still so that she had no choice but to listen, her eyes occasionally slipping over to Roman’s still form.
“Elena, this can’t be right.” Alexandra had come down from the bed now. She clutched a sheet to her chest, crying as she watched Viktor hold Elena down. “You… you can’t be involved in this. I know that you were close to your father, but you saw what he did! You knew about his crimes, and you had a change of heart…”
“She had nothing,” Viktor replied cruelly, not sparing his wife a glance. “Everything we know of her, past and present, is a lie. She is nothing more than a shill for a man not worth our time, and as his servant, she will die.”
“I deserve it,” Elena whispered. Tears beaded in the corners of her eyes. “I deserve to die. But… but please, please, don’t let Roman suffer because of me. He’s loyal to you, he is,” she gasped out, swallowing back tears. “If he was loyal to me, he wouldn’t have stopped me—he would have let me go through with the assassination. He deserves to live. He protected you, and I hurt him. If you will kill me, then grant me that as my dying wish, please, Viktor. Roman doesn’t deserve this. I dragged him into it, and still, his heart stayed true. Don’t let him die. Please don’t let him die.”
Viktor’s eyes narrowed and his face twisted with rage. Elena was sure he was about to strike her, but instead, he pushed her harder down onto the ground and planted his bare foot on her chest. The wind was knocked from Elena’s lungs, and for a second, her vision speckled white. Would this be the end?
“If you want him to live so badly, then you’ll prove it,” Viktor said. His voice was hard, but it was not necessarily cruel. When Elena’s vision returned, she saw that Alexandra had come to stand behind him. She’d set a gentle hand on Viktor’s back, and the gesture seemed to have diminished some of his anger. “Tell me what you know about Anatoly’s whereabouts and motives.”
Elena squeezed her eyes shut. “Will you believe me if I tell you? I swear, I only did what I did because he would have killed me if I hadn’t gone through with it. I felt I had no choice. I’m not proud, and I don’t serve him anymore, I swear—my loyalty is wit
h you, but I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Alexandra asked. Her tone was softer and more sympathetic than Viktor’s.
Tears beaded behind Elena’s eyelids and slid down her cheeks. “I’m afraid that he’ll do to me what he did to my mother—ship me away and imprison me somewhere out of the way while everyone I love believes that I’m dead. Roman found her, or I never would have known, and now he’s…” she choked her tears back yet again. “I’m afraid that he’ll force me to rot in some cell until my mind turns to mush and I lose who I am. I… I know that he’s waiting for me to slip up. I know that if I don’t find protection, that he’ll take me, and then I’ll be dead no matter what I do. I made a mistake… a big mistake. But I don’t want Roman to pay for it. He’s dying. You need to help him!”
“Then tell me where Anatoly is,” Viktor snarled. He held his foot over her chest, keeping her pinned. “Tell me what you know. If I find out you’re telling the truth, then maybe I’ll believe what you’ve told me. And if you lie, then you know what will happen.”
It was the best deal Elena was going to get. Even if Roman’s life had not been on the line, she would have taken it. Her father was a vile man who deserved to be punished for his crimes. He’d driven her to this, to giving up her future and hurting her only true friends, Alexandra and Roman. She wouldn’t hold Viktor back from getting his vengeance.
“The last I heard, he was hiding in the loft of an old warehouse. I can give you the address if I can get to my phone. The information is old, and he might have moved on, but it’s all I know. I swear.” Elena couldn’t find the courage to open her eyes again—she didn’t want to know if Viktor was looking down on her with contempt or not, or see how still Roman lay. “Since I was in Russia, we haven’t been in close contact. All I know is that he wanted me to pretend to defect so that I could come in and kill you… but I don’t want that. Not anymore. Roman showed me how much of a fool I was being, and you need to save him. Please, save him.”
The Sokolov Brothers: The Complete Series Page 20