I look down to see they each have matching gunshot wounds to the chest.
Whoever set off that bomb wanted to make sure that the job was completed.
I guess the person who ordered the hit didn’t want to take any chances that the plan would backfire and that the Ivankovs would escape unscathed.
A quick look around confirms that not all of the Ivankovs are accounted for.
As if on cue, panicked, high-pitched female voices pierce the air and high heels click along the polished hardwood floor in the direction of the kitchen.
A girl in a black…I guess it’s a dress but really, it looks like a long shirt…lets out a skull-shattering scream as she runs over to her parents, collapsing onto her knees next to them. A younger girl follows behind her, tearfully clutching one another as they inspect their parents’ bodies.
I back away, not wanting to intrude in their shock and grief. Savio hovers behind them, a strong hand on Kristina’s quivering shoulder.
“Kristi, you’re a doctor!” One of the girls screeches. “Help them!”
My brow furrows as I watch this Kristi girl press her head against the chest of her father first and then her mother.
Something tells me she already knows she is completely powerless to do a damn thing.
Kristina sits back on her knees. “Mom is still breathing. I can feel her heart beat.”
“What about Dad?” The daughter in black demands, wringing her hands together. “Can you feel his heart beat, too?”
Kristina bends down again, lacing her fingers with her father’s before straightening up. The crocodile tears slipping down her cheeks are a pretty big sign that there is no heart beat to be found. She shakes her head and the three of them collapse against each other, their bodies wracked with grief.
A nagging feeling wrenches my gut. If this guy Anton Ivankov made the conscious decision to work with my father, to partner with him in any way, and to help him unleash his demonic plots on the world, he deserved way worse than being shot to death.
He got off easy, if you ask me.
And since Savio’s syndicate has enemies for years, I’m not convinced it was only the Juarez Cartel that could have put this hit on him and his wife.
Watching Kristina weep over her father’s body makes my chest tighten. A pang assaults my heart because I remember hovering over my mother’s body in the same exact way years ago when I thought my father had killed her.
I fist my hair.
Fuck. I don’t want to think about that night.
I don’t want to think about my mother.
And I have enough pent-up rage ready to unleash on Savio. I don’t need to take a toxic jaunt down Memory Lane right now when the shooter could still be lurking.
He may have been ordered to kill Kira and Anton, but there’s no guarantee that nobody else’s names were on his hit list.
And watching Savio cower in the background tells me he’s thinking the exact same thing.
My gaze hangs onto Kristina, watching her stroke the side of her father’s face, mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again…what is she sorry for?
Did she even know the truth about her father and his dealings?
Because if he was aligned with Savio, they weren’t anything close to being noble, that’s for sure.
My fingers run over the gun stuck in the back of my pants.
But seconds pass and nobody emerges to finish the job.
The skin on the back of my neck prickles, and impending dread consumes me like the time I was a little kid and slipped into a swimming pool without a life vest.
It’s a crushing sensation that takes away your abilities to breathe and focus.
I can’t afford to lose either right now.
EMTs run into the house less than a minute later, although it feels like hours have passed since I darted in here. They get to work immediately, checking the vitals of the Ivankovs. Moments later, they pronounce Anton dead at the scene.
I watch the girls huddle together as they zip Anton into a body bag and load Kira onto a gurney. They strap an oxygen mask over her face and rush her out of the house, but I can see they aren’t moving at breakneck speed, like there really is a life to be saved.
They must know it’s a lost cause and are just going through the motions for the sake of the girls.
Kristina pulls her sisters along with her. “Come on, let’s go.”
The EMT holds up a hand. “I’m sorry, but we can’t take any of you in the ambulance. You’ll have to follow us.”
“Are you serious? She could be dying!” Kristina yells. “You’re really going to take my mother all by her—” Her voice cracks, her sisters weeping behind her. “And Uncle Frank…” She darts her head around. “Where the hell is he?”
I step forward. “Kristina, let me take you guys to the hospital. You shouldn’t be driving anyway.”
She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Thank you so much.”
We leave the house and they slide into the back of my Range Rover. Savio grabs my arm as I slam the back door shut. “This is very fucking stupid. You have no idea who is watching those girls and who might go after them next. You are putting us right in the line of fire.”
I lean in close. “Then stay here, say a prayer that they’re not coming back for you, and call an Uber. I’m taking them to the hospital.”
“Don’t challenge me, Massimo.” His eyes glitter with anger, his fingers digging deep into my arm.
“Don’t touch me or I’ll break off your damn fingers.” I shake off his hand. “You want a ride? Then get in the fucking car.”
I glance in the rearview mirror at Kristina. Her phone is pressed to her ear. “Uncle Frank,” she says, her voice thick with tears. “There was an attack at the house. Mom and Dad were shot, and Dad is—”
But the sob she’d been trying so hard to choke back erupts from her chest and she can’t utter the words.
She mumbles the name of the hospital a few seconds later and then hangs up, her head collapsing back against the seat. “My uncle is going to meet us at the hospital.”
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the Emergency Room and the girls scramble to get out of the car. I narrow my eyes at Savio. “Don’t you think you should be there for moral support, at the very least? Are you really that much of a black-hearted prick?”
“I didn’t ask for your opinions, did I?” he growls. “You’re here to help me. Period.”
“Help you with what?” I shout. “You’re fucking blackmailing me for something big. What the hell is it?”
He glowers at me, his eyebrows knitted together. “You’re going to help guarantee the future of the Leota Commission.”
“Can’t fucking wait.” I roll my eyes. “But right now, I’m gonna make sure that those girls are safe. And if you don’t wanna take a shot to the back of the skull, you should come too. You never know who might be lurking and waiting to drag your ass outta this car by your ankles,” I grunt, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut.
I walk into the waiting room, scouting the space for the Ivankov girls or their uncle.
But none of them are in here.
I inch toward the reception desk where I overhear a few nurses with their heads bent together.