Page 63 of Dark Christmas

“Married,” I say, spotting a matching ring on Daniil’s hand.

And then, another surprise. Two kids, toddlers, twins by the look of them, run into the room, laughing as they chase each other around. My gut twists.

“Man’s got a family,” Sasha says quietly, shaking his head. “I didn’t know.”

I lower the binoculars, jaw clenched. “We can’t kill him right now.”

Sasha looks at me, surprised. “What?”

“We don’t kill a man in front of his family.” I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

“What about the other brother? Denis?”

“He was the one at my house that night. I don’t know where he lives.”

He exhales, leaning back in his seat. “So, what’s the plan?”

I glance back at the house. “Simple. We go up and have a little chat.”

Sasha laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. “A chat, huh?”

“Hide your weapons,” I say, smirking. “And try to look friendly.”

Sasha flashes a big, over-the-top smile. “Friendly enough for you?”

I chuckle. “Notthatfriendly; that’s creepy.”

We tuck away our guns and approach the front door, Sasha and I keeping our movements casual. I knock twice, and a few moments later, Daniil answers. His eyes flicker with recognition the second he sees us. He stiffens, his face draining of color.

“What is this?” he asks, his voice tight with fear. His eyes dart between us, already knowing what’s coming.

We say nothing.

His expression falls completely. “I’m not in that life anymore. I have a family. Please.”

I raise my hands, palms up, trying to keep the situation calm. “We’re not here for anything like that. We just want to chat.”

Daniil’s wife steps into view, concern etched across her face. “What’s going on?” she asks, glancing at us cautiously, like we’re about to pull guns at any second.

"A chat,” I say, hearing the faint sound of the kids laughing and playing in the background.

Daniil turns to his wife. “Everything’s fine. Just keep an eye on the kids.”

She hesitates, her hand lingering on the door. “Should I call—?”

“No,” he cuts her off sharply. “It’s just a chat.”

After a tense pause, she nods and walks back inside, but not without casting one last wary glance in our direction.

Daniil sits stiffly on the porch, his hands clenched in his lap. "If you're here to kill me," he starts, "please don't do it in front of my family."

I shake my head. "We’re not here to kill you."

“Weweregoing to kill you,” Sasha adds bluntly, his eyes cold. “But the plan changed.”

Daniil’s expression remains grim. "I don’t understand.”

I lock eyes with him, my voice cool and calm as I lay it out. "We’re the ones who killed your brother Dimitri."