Page 34 of Dangerous Promises

Anton shares a look with Freddie.

"All we need to do right now is share resources," Freddie says, stepping up to help calm down the room. "Look for information on Chet until we can figure out how to get close enough to him to kill him."

Isla nods lightly at Alexei, so that seems it will be acceptable for now.

"Is that a deal?" Alexei asks.

Anton nods unsurely. But I know it's pointless. Defending ourselves will be enough for now but without a solid, concrete plan, we will never outsmart Chet. Many people have wanted Chet dead over the years, and there's a reason he always manages to escape and come back stronger.

I'm sick of being haunted. By Chet and by what I did tohim.

"It's a deal," Anton says. "Resources now. And when we have enough, we will kill Chet. Together. And then," he stops to give me a worried look, "then you can finish this. But not a second sooner."

Alexei looks like he very much wants to punch my uncle and then potentially kill him as well. But one look down to Isla's desperate face has his jaw grinding and him pushing down his natural instinct.

"We're clear," Alexei says. "But if she touches me. I will fight back."

Anton gives Alexei a terse nod before turning annoyed and desperate eyes on me. He can look all he wants. I'm not going to apologize. But it's clear I can't be attacking Alexei in broad daylight anymore.

"Come on Sage, lets go," Anton says, and I realize in the time I've been death glaring Alexei they've all made a move to the door. I shake myself off and follow.

We will go after Chet. Sure. But I'll get Alexei, too. Truce or not.

Chapter

Thirteen

Sage

The next weeks are a blur of déjà vu and hatred.

For the second time, the Rushkoff empire descends on our estate. My uncle lets not only Alexei and Isla, but several of their men, through the front gates like they're old friends. It's like he learned absolutely nothing from what happened with Victor. Even though Anton was the one who was sure we shouldn't trust him in the first place.

Yet Anton does his best to keepmeas far away from the Rushkoffs as possible. Whatever they're doing to get their shot at Chet I am left well out of it. Because Alexei is necessary and I am expendable. And there is no such thing as concentrating when Alexei and I are in the same room. Still it feels like a slight. A reflection of how they used to view me.

While I try my best to maintain composure, watching Alexei walk through here like an honored guest still just… hurts.

Hurts in the way that when I see his face I can only picture how he looked right before he pulled the trigger. Hurts in theway that when his stormy gray eyes sear into me, my body heats and I feel sick at my reaction. Like a reminder that once upon a time, before all of this, there may have been something there between us.

As per routine, I make my way from the kitchen to Dad's room, faithfully carrying the toast and coffee that will inevitably end up in the trash. I knock and wait for the guards to let me in. At least there is some distrust of the Rushkoffs since Anton has beefed up security in here and is loath to ever leave the door open.

The guards let me in, nodding as they return to their posts next to the door. Leaving me in my limited privacy as I walk over to Dad's bedside and sit down on the comforter next to him. A pang of sadness takes me for a moment, looking at him with tubes hanging out of his mouth and wires connecting him to machines that keep him alive. It's such a juxtaposition to who he was before all of this. You'd think seeing him day to day, I wouldn't notice the subtle changes that signal him fading away. But I do. Every day he stays like this the worse he looks.

The more sunken his eyes become, the circles darker.

The lines in his cheeks grow deeper.

Hair thinner and grayer.

It's been long enough now that I don't remember what it was like when he was alive. Really alive.

I sigh, forcing myself to remember the person he used to be. Tall and imposing. Forceful. Giving out orders more confidently than Anton ever does. We're more gentle with Anton in charge. Entertaining the Rushkoffs, either Victor or Alexei, is something my father would'veneverdone. No matter the stakes.

I hold on to his hand and watch his chest rise and fall predictably.

"I miss you, Dad," I say, patting on his hand. "If you were here, this never would've happened."

I check over my shoulder to make sure the guards aren't listening to me. But I can tell from their looks of pity that they've heard it all.