ERIC DOESN’T SPEAK the whole drive. I insisted on driving since he can only use one leg, but his car has automatic transmission. He looks far too pale to be driving, but he wouldn’t give in. I knew he would come when Lucca rang him. I just wasn’t so sure he would take me to my father.
We pull up at my father’s home. Once they see Eric driving, they let us pass. I don’t say anything as I climb out of the car. My stomach is in knots. Please God, tell me I’m not too late. I enter the house and am very aware of the amount of armed men. I move quickly through the sitting room. My home the last six years would fit into the hall four times over.
“Maybe we should let your father know we’re here before you go out there.”
I ignore Eric and step out into the foyer. The blood in my veins freezes. Two bodies are on the white pavement, both pooling with blood. I sense my father’s heavy gaze on me as I run toward Nicholai.
“Nicholai!” I pull him around, and he groans out in pain.
“Mila, what are you doing here?” His words are breathy.
I smile with relief that he isn’t dead, but he is losing a lot of blood. I press down on the wound along his side, and for the first time, look up at my father, who watches me over the rim of a wineglass.
“Hello, Mila.”
I want to spit at him. “Let me take him to a hospital.”
My father smiles. There’s nothing fatherly or warm about his smile.
“Why?” he asks, and I glance back down at Nicholai, whose skin seems to pale further.
“Please, Father! I’ll do anything!” I plead.
“Anything?” My father takes a drink, like the blood flowing from Nicholai isn’t alarming.
“Yes, anything!” I shout.
Laughter bubbles up from my father’s mouth. “Very well, Mila. Pick up the gun to your left.” I glance over to where my father indicates and see a gun. My stomach churns as I glance back at him.
“Shoot The Collector and then you can take him to a hospital.”
“What?” Warm liquid flows over my fingers.
“Shoot him and then you can take him to a hospital. Prove your loyalty to me.”
Nicholai’s breathing is growing more faint. I know I’m running out of time.
“You’ve always hated me.” A lump in my throat nearly chokes me. “I’m your only child, and I’m begging you to let me take care of the man I love.”
Tears spill and I hate the man I’m looking up at. There is no remorse in his face.
He takes a large drink. “The decision is yours, Mila.”
I’m up and race to the gun. My blood-soaked fingers wrap around it, and I point the gun at my father. “I should kill you!”
His laughter has my hand shaking. “Don’t be foolish. Look around you, Mila. I raise one finger and you die. I think we both know I won’t hesitate, so either shoot The Collector or watch him die at your feet.”
I hate him. I have no other emotion, only hate for this man. I lower the gun because I know I can’t win with anger. I slowly step back over to Nicholai. He blinks and looks up at me as I point the gun at him.
“Just do it.” His words are low, but I hate them. I swallow the saliva that pools in my mouth, along with the tears that refuse to stop falling.
“What if it kills you?” My hand shakes.
“If you don’t shoot me, I’m going to die here, Mila. Aim for my shoulder, try not to hit… any organs.”
He’s smiling with his eyes closed like this is a joke.
“I’m waiting.” My father sounds very pleased with himself.
I glance back at Nicholai. “I love you,” I tell him before I pull the trigger.