Page 35 of Devil's Retribution
I gulped and nodded mutely. Don’t cry, I demanded of myself, trying to ignore the shaky, melting-snow feeling that ran all through me. I wasn’t going to waste tears on that man.
I let him lead me out of that room, away from all the evidence of my uncle’s greed and selfishness. I was sure now that there would be more. Viktor was right to warn me.
“Do you drink?” he asked once he’d gotten me sat down on the couch.
“Just wine. White, please. The cellar is off the kitchen.”
I put my face in my hands and listened to him potter around fetching glasses and a bottle from the chiller. I was suddenly parched for that drink. It was the only comfort I could reach for right now without risking myself.
Eventually I heard him come back. He settled onto the couch right next to me, I heard him set the glasses down, and then felt his hand settle on my shoulder.
Everything seemed to stop inside of me. My ambivalent, angry heart was suddenly distracted by that contact. The touch was soft, almost feather-light, but I felt the heat of his skin through my blouse and suddenly wanted him to touch me a lot more.
I looked up. He was offering the drink. I took it wordlessly, thoughts spinning in my head. His hand slipped away from my shoulder, and I felt its absence almost painfully.
The wine was wonderfully cold and crisp.
“That’s better,” Viktor said once I was halfway through the glass. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been kicked in the stomach a few times,” I said thickly. “And honestly this only made me have more questions. Why spoil us and keep such a close eye on us? It could have been guilt over taking our money, but it’s too much.”
“He’s ordered people killed, as well as stolen your inheritance,” he reminded me gently. “He has much to feel guilty about. And he was grooming you to be in his corner no matter what.” Something about how he said it, made me shiver.
“It was all calculated. But this is more than grooming,” I murmured. “My gut’s telling me so, but I can’t put my finger on why.”
“It may be guilt for something else. But you have faced enough of his horrors and betrayal for the moment. Now that you have unlocked his computer and helped me find that thumb drive, I can do the rest or get one of my men to take a look. I’ll have another job for you tomorrow.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes. I want you to interview your uncle’s staff. I noticed an information database on them in his computer. Phone numbers were included. They’re much more likely to trust you than some stranger.”
“That’s true. He didn’t like changing staff. Some of the people on that list watched me grow up.” They knew I was a basically good person, and they knew what I had lost. Viktor’s confidence in me wasn’t misplaced.
“Good. That will make it easier to get them to talk. Especially if they have some inkling of what he’s capable of.”
I shivered. “They may be just as fooled as I was. Or maybe he’s scared them out of talking.”
“I understand, but we still must make the attempt.” He took a sip of his wine, then sat back cradling the glass. “You really aren’t much of a drinker.”
“No. It’s caused deaths in my family. Believe me, I have plenty of reasons to keep my intake light. And part of that is that I’m raising Nick.”
“Hmm.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You said it caused deaths in your family?”
“My sister.” I felt my guts twist, the cold feeling inside deepening. “It’s an ugly story. I don’t like talking about it.”
“Never mind, then. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” But his curious gaze slid over me. “I’ll not push on the alcohol, then. But it’s clear you need to unwind before we continue.”
“Yeah.” I took several deep breaths, trying to control my stormy emotions. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to Nick about all of this.”
“I advise you to say nothing until he’s considerably older,” Viktor advised quietly, staring into his wine before taking another swallow. He licked his lips in a way that caught all my attention. “He’s an innocent boy. He should be allowed to be so, for a while longer. Believe me when I say that the alternative is nothing he deserves to live through.”
The faint, haunted look on his face intrigued me. “How old were you when you started doing things for your organization?”
He looked up at me sharply, and for a moment the fading chill inside me came back in full force. But then he offered a smile that carried that same hint of sadness. “Too young. Our parents died too soon, and my father had been a member. Taking his place in what small ways I could was the only way to support my younger brother.”
I stared at him, remembering suddenly that this was a whole human being I was looking at—not simply a mobster, or our captor, or my uncle’s enemy. Before now I hadn’t even tried to picture him as a child at all, let alone a bereaved one.
“They didn’t just give me a gun and throw me out there as an enforcer or anything like that,” he went on, seeming a little relieved to talk about this. “No, first I was a lookout and a messenger, then I was carrying packages on my bike. By seventeen I was muscle at one of the Pakhan’s clubs. I would study for exams in the back, while they played that godawful nineties dance pop.” He pulled a face, and I found my smile.