Chapter 14: Reckoning by the Hearth
Viktor set his crystal glass down on the edge of the marble mantelpiece with a sharp clink that echoed off the crystal chandeliers overhead. He reached inside his unbuttoned shirt and pulled out the folded crayon drawing he had taken from Emma hours ago. The edges were singed where the flames had licked at it before he snatched it away.
"You spent three years playing the grieving widow," Viktor said, stepping slowly toward me across the rug, his boots making no sound on the thick wool. "You wore my ring, you sat at my right hand at every charity gala in the city, and all the while, you were funneling my foundation's accounts into a forgotten farmhouse in West Chester to feed a son I thought was buried in the rubble."
"You killed my brother, Viktor," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as I stood my ground, refusing to flinch. "You burned our past to the ground because my family wouldn't bow to your syndicates. I played your game because I had no choice. But I survived."
"We both survived," Viktor replied, stopping just a foot away from me. The warmth of the fireplace radiated off his broad shoulders, mixing with the scent of gunsmoke and iron. "That's why we belong in this cage together. No one else could stand against me, and no one else could break me the way you did with a box of crayons and a child's drawing."
"I'm not staying in your cage anymore," I said, lifting my chin. "The federal marshals are twenty minutes behind me. I left your private ledgers on the front seat of that old pickup truck, addressed to the district attorney's office. Your empire is finished, Viktor."
May you like
A heavy silence fell over the dining hall, broken only by the dying crackle of the embers in the hearth. For a long, agonizing moment, I thought he would reach for the hidden shoulder holster beneath his arm. Instead, a slow, humorless laugh escaped his lips. He reached up, untied his dark silk necktie, and let it drop to the floor.
"Then let them come," Viktor whispered, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that burned hotter than the fire. "At least I won this room."
