While Konstantin spoke of his ventures in security, Roman broke down internally. It was no coincidence that Elena had gone to see Mikhail. If he was working for the Popovs, then he’d come for her… and she’d gone to him, freely. All this time, she’d insisted that she was a defector, but Roman knew that wasn’t the case anymore. After her breakdown in the car after visiting her mother, combined with this morning’s meeting with Mikhail? There was no doubt in Roman’s mind that Elena was still loyal to the Popovs.
She’d been using them all along.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Konstantin remarked.
“You have my apologies. Something just came up, and I’ve got to go tend to it. I’ll call you later and we can catch up then. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. I look forward to hearing all about your recent adventures in driving. Lots of rush hour stories to share, I imagine.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Roman’s lips pinched in at the corners. “I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“Later.”
Roman set down the phone. He took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly through his nostrils.
Elena was loyal to the Popovs, and that meant she had to die. He should apprehend her on the way back to the Sokolov mansion and dispose of her himself. Anything less would be a betrayal of Viktor and the proud Russian family who’d taken him in when he’d had nowhere else to go. But Roman’s own heart betrayed him. The thought of putting a bullet through Elena’s head turned his stomach and sucked the strength from his body.
He couldn’t kill her. He loved her.
He would find another solution. His mind was loyal to Viktor, but his body and heart would always be loyal to her.
16
Elena
“Why isn’t it done?” Mikhail’s gaze was hardened on her, and his question demanded a proper response. Elena pinched her shoulder blades together and wished she could take a step back, but she knew better—Mikhail was trying to intimidate her, and if she let him see her fear, he would know he’d won. She had to remain strong.
“It’s just… not.” She lifted her head a little higher, hiding her instability behind the ditzy facade she put on so well. “It takes time to do something as delicate as infiltrate a mob family, Mikhail. You know this. I’m waiting for the right time, okay? It’s not like there’s a time limit or something. I have no make sure they completely trust me before I can slip in and kill him.”
“It was supposed to be done by now.” Mikhail’s voice was unrelenting steel. He grabbed her wrist and Elena bit back a squeak. She scowled instead and wrenched her wrist away from him. “You had one job, Lena,” he growled.
“Do not call me that,” she hissed. Hearing the nickname her father had used for her stung. She wanted nothing to do with it. “My name is Elena, okay? And also, what the hell are you doing here, following up on me? Are you crazy, approaching the Sokolov estate so brashly? Someone will see, and then they’ll kill you. You really are all brawn and no brain, aren’t you?”
Mikhail scowled. “The risk was calculated. Of all the enforcers, the Sokolovs are least likely to recognize me. If you had done your job as you were instructed, I wouldn’t have had to take the risk.”
Elena’s scowl intensified. “I don’t like your tone.”
“And I don’t like that I have to come onto hostile territory to follow up with your lagging ass.” Mikhail grabbed her by the front of the shirt and yanked her forward. Elena broke her composure and let loose with a startled gasp. She struggled to regain her footing, trying to pull away from his grip. Mikhail had brought her behind a garden shed on the outskirts of the Sokolov estate, and she knew no one would see them out here. If he wanted to, Mikhail could hurt her. And if she didn’t follow through with her father’s wishes, she realized, there was no telling what he might do to her when they next met.
“Let me go!” Elena hissed. She tried to pull back from Mikhail again, but his grip was too strong. “I’m getting it done! Let me go!” she insisted, digging her nails into his wrists to no avail.
Mikhail leaned in close and whispered in her ear. His breath rolled hot against her earlobe. “Playtime is over, little girl. Daddy wants him dead.”
Elena’s lungs squeezed themselves shut. Her stomach flipped. Words had abandoned her.
“You have twenty-four hours to get the job done,” Mikhail said. He shoved her away then, letting go of her shirt as he did. She stumbled backward, barely catching herself on the shed before she fell. “If Viktor Sokolov is not dead in twenty-four hours, then you will be pulled from the estate and brought back to your father. He will punish you as he sees fit.”
Elena already knew how that would go. She’d seen how her father treated those who were no longer of use to him—people like her mother. She couldn’t let that happen. If she wanted to keep living the life she was accustomed to, she’d have no choice but to go through with the assassination.
Viktor Sokolov would have to die after all, or it might be her life that was taken next.
“This is your only warning,” Mikhail said. He stepped away then, leaving her to catch her breath and come to peace with what she was about to do. She’d found happiness with the enemy, and now she had no choice but to trade it away.
Elena hurried back across the grounds, entered the Sokolov estate, and headed to her bedroom. Paranoia gripped her, plaguing her mind with troubling thoughts.
What if someone had seen?
Would there be questions?
Would she be forced to leave? Or worse…
With tears building in her eyes and desperation in her chest, she tore through her belongings. Behind the lining of the suitcase, sewn up expertly by a Popov doctor in lieu off a seamstress, was a switchblade. She wrenched the lining open, grabbed the blade, and sat heavily on the side of her bed.
If she didn’t go through with the attempt, her father would pull her from the mansion and punish her. If she stayed, and someone saw, she would be in equally as much trouble.
No matter how much she didn’t want to, her only option for survival was to go forward with the mission.Elena let out a shuddering breath and turned the switchblade over in her palms. She was still too on edge to leave the room and see the job through. Tears rolled down her cheeks and gathered along the edge of her jaw, then fell in fat drops onto her shirt. Viktor was Alexandra’s husband, and he was a good man. He made her friend happy, he had a big heart despite his position, and he had brought her into his home even when he’d had doubts as to her loyalty.
And, now, she was going to kill him to save her own life.
Elena blinked the tears from her eyes, struggling to calm her blood, and found the courage to stand. She exited the room, then made her way toward the bedroom Viktor shared with Alexandra. They hadn’t been married long—they were supposed to have their whole lives in front of them. Alexandra, still so young and hopeful, was supposed to enjoy the decades she still had with her husband. One day, he would have made her a mother. Elena could only imagine how happy her friend would have been with a baby on her hip, her eyes full of love for her young family.
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 be
longings 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 op
tion 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.
Falling for the Mob Soldier: Sokolov Brothers Book Two Page 9