94

ORION

It’s funny how things turn out.

The sun sets low over the city, peeking between the gaps in the buildings and stretching its long, golden fingers to where we’re parked just outside the mayor’s office. Reaching for the sun visor, I flip it down to avoid the glare—even with my sunglasses, it can be a bit too much.

They’re as much a part of me as any other clothing and a stark reminder of what I suffered. What I nearly lost.

“Are you ready?” Lucian drops his hands from the steering wheel and starts slowly pulling on a pair of black leather gloves.

“No.” I don’t think I will ever be ready, but that isn’t going to stop me from doing what I came here to do. Thanks to Cassian recalling shit from ten years ago, I finally get to put a bullet in the skull of the bastard that bailed on me and got me sent to prison.

He’s sitting pretty inside with a cushy fucking job in the mayor’s office.

“Changing your mind?” Lucian flexes his fingers, making the glove fit snuggly.

“No. But…this is big. If I get caught, they’ll cart me back to prison.”

“You won’t get caught.”

“I might. And if you get caught with me…” I’m not trying to talk myself out of it, but part of me is trying to talk Lucian out of being here with me. I don’t want to put him at risk, especially with Selene and Aurora needing someone to look out for them. We can’t leave all that to Cassian—as stable as our alliance currently is, there’s no guarantee that it will last.

“You won’t get caught,” Lucian repeats, his tone firmer this time. His hands land on his thighs. “I’m here for you, and that isn’t going to change.”

“But—”

“No.” He fixes me with a steady stare. “You’re my brother, and this is a huge part of what causes you to suffer. I’m here for it. I’m here for you. And you’re not getting caught.”

“Are you saying that as the leader of the most prominent family in the Bratva?”

“I’m saying it as your friend.” Lucian’s lips twitch slightly. “And yes, I have influence. So trust me.”

“I do.” Inexplicably.

Lucian has been there for me from the moment I reached out. He’s cared for me, supported me, and given me purpose. If there’s anyone in this world I would be happy to die for, it would be him.

“Then I’m here,” he says softly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Confronting the man who was supposed to be my brother all those years ago is daunting. He exists atop those steps, safe behind those walls, ripe for the killing. And yet something keeps me in the car. A part of me is not ready to face him. I know Lucian will sit with me all night. He’ll even drive me home and come back with me the next day.

But I can’t put this off any longer. I need to see him. I need to look into his eyes and learn why he betrayed me that day, and why I had to face those ten long years in prison for something that was supposed to be a smooth hit.

We sit until the sun’s golden reach vanishes beneath the horizon and the world around us grows colder and darker. Silence draws in around us like a cloak, and only when the air in the car turns cool do I finally reach for the door.

We enter through the rear entrance and stalk slowly down the hallways. Each door carries a nameplate and I scan each one in turn, searching for the name Hendrik. It’s surreal to think that this guy’s life has turned out so well, and the price was merely betraying me.

Who has that kind of power? The kind of influence to give a cushy mayoral job as payment?

Lucian clicks his tongue behind his teeth, drawing my attention to a single door at the end of a short corridor. Hendrik’s name is emblazoned in black across a gold sign. As we approach, the low sound of music playing is broken by some off-tune whistling.

Lucian hangs back, hand clasped over his wrist at his waist, giving me free rein. A silent supporter.

I take a deep breath, and the tension building in my chest eases just a fraction. It’s not enough to stop me from feeling smothered, but it keeps the dizziness at bay. Then, I lift my leg and kick the door in with one swift movement.

The portly man inside nearly falls off his chair in fright. He clutches at his tie, bunching the fabric up in his shirt while his mustache trembles back and forth.

“For heaven’s sake, what in the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

I stalk inside and slam both hands flat on his desk. Pens and other stationary jump at the impact and Hendrik’s eyes widen in terror.

“Hey buddy,” I sneer slightly. “Remember me?”

“I don’t have any clue who you are! How did you even get in here? Security is just down the hall and I…I…” he trails off. The terror on his face melts into confusion. Then recognition sparks in his eyes and the trembling, bumbling act fades.

“Orion? Orion Voss?” he asks, his tiny blue eyes scanning all over my face. “My God, I thought you were dead.” He almost greets me like a long-lost friend.

“That would suit you, wouldn’t it?” Lunging over the desk, I grab him by the collar and punch him square in the face.

Hendrik grunts and his squishy face almost absorbs the impact. I punch him again, this time letting his shirt slips through my fingers so he stumbles backward. Tripping over his own chair, he ends up on his backside against the wall.

“They told me you were dead!”

“Well, they fucking lied, didn’t they?” I’m on him in seconds, winding his tie around my fist and using it to drag him upward a few inches so he dangles from it like a hangman’s noose.

“This can’t be?—”

“Oh it can. You got a little something to tell me, Hendrik? Maybe why the fuck you weren’t where you were supposed to be ten years ago?”

Staring into his watery eyes, it’s painful to think that this man was the cause of my downfall.

“You had no problem taking the bragging rights for my kills, acting like you were there while taking none of the punishment that came with it. Ten years, ten fucking years I spent in prison because of you!”

I punch him again and anger swells. It’s not enough. It will never be enough. I want to smash his face in over and over, until there’s nothing but bloody pudding. If I give in to that urge, I won’t have my answers.

“I didn’t!” Hendrik pulls at my wrist and tries to free himself. Each time he does, I punch him again until his blood sprays up the wall and my knuckles ache.

“Tell me!” I roar, shaking him violently. “Tell me why!”

“Help me!” He wails to Lucian.

Lucian doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. He just waits and watches.

“Imro ordered me too!” Hendrik yells suddenly, finally cracking under the continuous assault. I hold my fist aloft, ready to land another blow as ice trickles down my spine.

“What?”

Hendrik slumps, blood pouring from a split on his lower lip and the break in his nose. “Imro,” he gasps, panting. “He ordered me to stay away so I did. Then I was sent on another job so I went, but afterward, everyone thought I was still with you and that I got away.”

My mind runs, processing what he was saying but unable to make the connections.

“I don’t understand…I was set up to go there alone?”

Hendrik sniffs wetly. “Yes! Yes. That was always the plan, don’t you see?” He winces as blood trickles from the cut in his eyebrow down into his eye.

“Stop playing games and just tell me!” I ball my fist up once more and Hendrik babbles at me.

“It was a setup! It was always a setup. You were the rising star of your family, the powerhouse of the Vosss. You were legendary, an animal, and people admired you! And Imro, he hated that. He wanted your family wiped off the map, but he couldn’t risk an open play because you were, well, you.”

My heart begins to pound in my chest. Slow, painful thumps that send tremors down my arms. “So you were sent there to kill those people. Did you think it was a coincidence that the cops found you within two blocks? No, you were arrested because Imro wanted it that way. He left you to rot there because he wanted you to be a symbol of what he was capable of. And then?—”

He stops talking suddenly, and his eyes flick to where Lucian stands silently at the door.

“And then?” I shake him violently. “And then what?!”

“Then…” He looks back at me and his face crumples. “And then Imro sent me and…and a few other guys to kill your family. You were supposed to die in prison and I thought you had!”

My grip on Hendrik fades and he slumps to the floor, panting. Straightening slowly, my heart continues to pound painfully.

Imro had my loyalty. Every breath I took was in service to him and this is how he chose to repay me?

“Why?” I glare down. “I never spoke out of turn, I never acted out of turn. I was loyal, my whole family was!”

“It didn’t matter! You were all in the way, a rising threat to the power he wanted, so he removed you. And them. More power to him, more territory and business and then you became a cautionary tale. Even those most loyal can end up under his heel.”

I step away, my balance unsure. Racing thoughts jumble over one another in my mind as the long-missing puzzle pieces slot together with painful snaps. All this time, I thought my missing backup was to blame for my capture, that Imro abandoned me because he thought me weak and careless.

Instead, it was Imro’s plan all along.

“You’re telling me,” I begin hoarsely. “That I killed all those people and spent ten years getting tortured to the point that I almost lost my sight; all because Imro was on a power trip?”

Hendrik nods quickly, wiping at his swollen face.

“And you used my story to boost your way up into this cushy job after killing my family?”

Hendrik pauses and his eyes dart back to Lucian, then he laughs weakly. “I mean…listen, Imro is a powerful man. He wanted to reward me and I was poor. I wanted to be promoted. We all were forced to do terrible things and I?—”

I whip out my pistol and shoot him square between the eyes, ending his babbling excuses. His jaw drops and his head falls forward, then he slumps to the side.

Dead.

I can’t lower my gun. My fist trembles and the urge to unload the entire clip into him rises. He killed my family. He killed them after I was set up and sent away, and one bullet isn’t enough.

Then Lucian’s hand lands on my arm, and my world swims when I glance at him.

“Let’s go,” is all he says. His voice is calm. Grounding.

It’s all I need to will my legs into working and I hurry after him as we escape the way we came.

The names Timmon and Mary Voss are woven in gold ink across the smooth marble surface of the gravestone, their date of death just beneath. My parents.

They died because I was blinded by loyalty to a bad man and unable to protect them. A man willing to betray even those most loyal to him in order to get ahead.

It doesn’t feel real. For years, I carried the shame of disappointing my Pakhan and couldn’t understand how Lucian could look past such a thing in order to help me. I was—and am—forever grateful, but learning that the shame was misplaced…it hurts. It secures my belief that Lucian is a good man, and I will do what I can to make my parents proud.

Darkness closes in around me, and the only light comes from the glare of the car headlights and the single candle I lit on top of the gravestone. I stare at the flame until my eyes burn and the pressure within my chest finally starts to crack.

Tears well in the corners of my eyes. Removing my glasses, I pinch the bridge of my nose to try and keep them at bay, but it doesn’t work. Grief roars like a lion in my chest and, unable to keep myself up, I crumble down to my haunches and sob.

“Sorry, Ma.”