Deceitful Lies by Brook Wilder
Chapter 12
Andrei
It’s a shockingly perfect plan to find a killer. Even Dmitri is impressed with Paige’s newfound cruelty. Deep in thought, I sit at my desk, toying with a pen, spinning it in circles on the sleek surface while he rattles off possible names, all members of the Karamazov Bratva.
“They will snitch on the murderer to save their necks.” Dmitri nods his approval. “She thought this up on her own?”
“Yes, she did.” I concentrate on the pen, spinning in circles.
“I have to admit that I underestimated your wife, but…”
I look up. “But what?”
He crosses his legs and leans back on the couch. “We have other issues that need to be addressed, Andrei.”
I slip the pen into my pocket. “The fallout in the Poconos?”
“Yes. Talia was safe and as sound as can be expected. Only two of her men were killed. The other Bratvas feel you were justified since Talia brought your wife against her will into neutral territory. I made it clear that Talia had not contacted you to make an exchange or pay a ransom. She forced your hand.”
“Good.” My mind refuses to dwell on what Paige must’ve gone through. I can’t allow it to conjure up dark thoughts, or I will do something rash, foolish, and possibly, deadly.
“It only worked because of your past history with her,” Dmitri continues. “If it had been anyone else, there would be a price on your head. You committed a sin, Andrei Vasilyevich.”
I lift my tone and try to sound optimistic. “Then let’s count our few blessings and move on. Avenging Paige’s mother gives us an excuse to go after Igor Karamazov’s men. Kill two birds with one stone. Put a hit out now. Start low and then move up the ranks.”
Dimitri opens his mouth to say something, and I pin him with a sharp look. I’m in no mood for his jokes today.
The other Bratvas have been sympathetic toward me since they learned the circumstances. But the facts have been altered slightly to make it seem that Paige was tricked into going with Talia. I don’t want her to be a target again. I don’t want the Karamazov Bratva to know my wife was easy to snatch off the streets.
“Andrei Vasilyevich, avenging your wife is important, but there are other objectives that are equally important.”
“Is that your diplomatic way of saying I’m making the wrong choice?”
“Has her father revealed anything else?” asks Dmitri. “About the money.”
I get up and go to the bar, pouring a scotch for myself and one for Dmitri. “He hasn’t.”
“Not even to his daughters?”
“Neither have spoken with him since we brought him here,” I reply. “And she doesn’t seem to know about the money. She’s still focused on her mother’s killer, and now she’s talking about her mother’s rapists that had never been mentioned before.” I sigh. “Do you think you have another way to get information out of Gerald?”
“Have Viktor sneak the youngest daughter into Gerald’s room. And then listen at the door.”
I nod, uncomfortable with the deceit, but the man is ill and doesn’t have much time. Maybe he did say something to Paige at the hospital. But he refuses to talk to me and my men. Perhaps this idea of Dmitri’s might just work.
My mind turns to Paige’s new desire to go after her mother’s rapists. Where had that information come from? She’d never told me anything about that.
Something else must have happened while Talia held her. The rescue was too easy. And whatever Talia had planned, I followed it as if she had given me orders.
“Andrei Vasilyevich?” Dmitri takes his drink out of my hand. “It was the original plan. No matter how you may feel now, they’re here for a reason. And if you accomplish what you set out to do, you will cripple the others. No one will question your dominance.”
“They question me now,” I reply, emptying the glass. “Even my own men.”
“They don’t understand your attachment to your civilian wife.”
“When you say they, does that include you?”
Dmitri doesn’t answer and is saved by a quick knock on the door. He opens it, and Paige stands in the doorway dressed in a blue knit dress that complements the diamonds on her wrist and neck. She lifts her chin and enters, and Dmitri nods in respect. She doesn’t acknowledge him as she walks over to the bar and stands beside me.
She looks like a pakhan’s wife—one who keeps her secrets close to heart—and it gives me a chill. What did Talia do to my wife?
Dmitri shoots me a parting glance and shuts the door.
“What can I do for the lovely woman who stands beside me?” I ask in a charming tone.
She smiles tightly. “Have you done what I asked?”
“Dmitri is on the job,” I reply stiffly. “He will follow my orders.”
Paige places a hand on my shoulder. She hasn’t been affectionate since her return, except in bed, when her true nature takes over. When she’s too tired to conceal what she truly wants from me.
“How will I know that he’s done it?” she asks sweetly.
“Because he will tell me.” The tension between us grows, and a suffocating dread closes my throat. I’ve only felt this way with one other person.
“You misunderstand me,” she says. “I want proof. I want to see it myself.”
The words slam into me. Not that I haven’t heard them before. It was my father’s way of making sure that a job was done and done right. But I never thought Paige would ask for this.
I stare into her eyes, hoping it’s a bluff. “You don’t want that, Paige.”
“You can’t tell me what I want and what I don’t want. “Her mouth trembles as she steps away from me. “My mother didn’t deserve what happened to her. I want these people to know they can’t touch my family. That there are consequences.”
I step closer, crowding her body, forcing her to look at me. “Paige, you don’t have to go this far. I will take care of it.”
She shakes her head, sending tears down her cheeks. “I thought my mother was a whore. She would bring men home, not caring that my father was there and using their bedroom. Emma was too young to understand, and I kept her hidden in our room. But I could still hear them. My father could hear them. I watched him sitting in the kitchen with a bottle, drinking and doing nothing. For ten years, I thought she was screaming in pleasure, but now I know better.”
I hold Paige as she breaks down. Her face buried against my chest, her hands grabbing my lapels as she cries. Loud sobs overtake her, and I know that she’s been holding onto this pain for days. Maybe longer. I feel ashamed. I never wanted to see Paige like this, and I’m the one that caused it.
“And I want justice for her.” She trembles in my arms. “Justice that only you can give.”
The sound of her tears slows to ragged breaths, but she holds me as closely as I hold her. Slowly, Paige looks into my face, and I don’t hide how worried I am. I let her see how I really feel. My sad expression is unmasked. Paige parts her lips, holding her face up to mine. I kiss her gently and eagerly. My tongue parts her lips, and her mouth is willing. I pull her body hard against mine, and that electricity I thought had disappeared travels through us again.
“What have I done to you?” I whisper.
“Nothing,” she replies against my chest. “You’ve shown me the awful truth of this world. That’s all.”
Paige slips out of my grasp and walks over to the window. She stares blankly as she calms her breathing. I walk over to her and pull her into my arms again.
“I’ll do it,” I whisper. “You’ll have proof, Paige.”
***
It doesn’t take long for Dmitri’s men to find the first man on Paige’s hit list.
No one is expecting it, so no one is hiding. After a few drinks in the bar, the fool brags to my spies about the old days. He brags about Cynthia Reyes and how many times he had her. He brags about the times he made her wimp husband watch while he fucked her in their marriage bed.
In the back alley of the bar, Seryozha, eager to return to my good graces after the intransigence at the wedding, shoots the man in the head.
I wait in the garage for Dmitri to return. From the outside, the garage looks picturesque. A country carriage house set up on a swell of pristine grass. A gray structure with white-painted trim and double doors reminiscent of a barn. But it holds no cars, tools, or garden equipment. Inside, the contents are quite grim within the soundproof walls.
Natasha stands outside on watch, chain-smoking her thin cigarettes as Dmitri returns with a box. Paige sits at a plain wooden table where we normally question our captives. A lone light bulb hangs from a cord above her head. She rubs her hands together nervously, and her foot bounces quickly against the concrete. She looks like a scared rabbit waiting for a fox to grab her throat. Good. I hope we will only have to do this once.
Dmitri holds the cardboard box out to me, but I shake my head and motion toward the table. The only indication of surprise is a raised brow on his scarred face. He places the shoebox in front of Paige and takes a step back. He waits like I do for her to take off the lid.
Her hands tremble as she reaches for the lid. Paige tears it off quickly, like an old Band-Aid stuck fast to the skin. Paige gasps when she sees the severed finger and pulls the box closer. She stares at it as if it’s an unusual trinket from an ancient land. She gingerly reaches for it, and with a quick movement, it’s in her hands.
She holds it up, studying the ring on the finger. And her disgust is replaced with a look of triumph. Then Paige does something unexpected; she pulls the ring off the finger and tosses the finger back into the box. She smiles at me. A look that curls the corners of her lips in a savage way. Then slips the dead man’s ring on her index finger.
“Thank you, my dear.” She pecks me on the cheek and walks out of the door, leaving it open. Seconds later, I hear laughter as she and Natasha examine the prize.
My blood runs cold, and I slam the lid back on the box. Dmitri looks at the ground. Is he as shaken as I am? The Paige that I snatched that day would never have acted like this.
Someone showed her how to be cruel.
There’s a savagery in Paige now, a savagery that I’ve only seen in one other woman.
Talia.
