Making their way to the Kirov tower, Kirov can't help but take in the sights. The neon lights, shining off the front of his car, the NDK shining beacon of light through the clouds, all the cars driving by, thousands of people who all lead their own lives with their own problems. Kirov understands that, one way or another, he may never be able to see the Sofia skyline shine like this ever again. He turns up the music in order to have something else to focus on; he needed to be focused right now. On the other hand, Marto was having a fundamentally different experience. His hands were jittery, and the lights shining through started to overstimulate him. He shut his eyes tightly and lay back, pretending to sleep. He couldn't handle another lecture from Kirov about his heavy chrome, not now.
"Marto, you awake?" Kirov doesn't turn to Marto as he asked him, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of him.
"How can I sleep right now?" Marto barked back at him, also not making any attempt at eye contact.
"Yeah, sure. You need to listen to me right now. When we get to the tower, we can't storm in guns blazing. I can get us to the top floor, but then you need to let me speak to my father alone." Marto doesn't respond audibly, simply shaking his head in approval. "You will stay outside, and only enter if you hear me bang on the table. Under no other circumstances do you make an entry."
"Yeah, yeah, stay put, got it." Marto put his head back and kept pretending to be asleep, barely acknowledging Kirov's instruction. They keep driving until the car stops in front of the Kirov Tower.
Getting out of the car, Kirov scans the entrance to the tower. Two guards out front. Nothing out of the ordinary. He walks around the car to open the door for Marto. As Marto goes to step out of the car, Kirov puts his hand on his shoulder, stopping him,
"Follow my lead, this is a death trap if we don't play our cards right… Maybe still even if we do." Marto gives him an affirming shake of the head and steps out of the car. They walk up to the entrance, and the guards step aside, letting them in with no hesitation. As they walk through the lobby, they feel the stares of all of the employees, but no one makes a move to stop them. As they reach the elevator, two guardians enter the elevator before them,
"Mr Kirov is waiting for you in his office." One guard presses his hand onto a scanner, and then on the button for the top floor. Kirov and Marto stand facing the guards, the tension growing too fast for the cramped elevator. Kirov notices that Marto is beginning to clench his fists and breathe a bit harder. He grabs Marto's wrist, giving him a stern stare, with Marto not backing down. Right as Marto started to tug away from Kirov's grip, the doors opened, and they both turned to exit. They walk down a corridor to a large oak door, and then Kirov turns to Marto,
"Stay here, remember what I told you." Kirov enters the office and sees his father, along with three armed guards. "Is this really necessary? You called me here to talk." Hearing this, his father waves the guards away with his hand, and they leave.
"Kiril, sit." Kirov sits down across the desk from Dimitar. Taking out a pack of cigarettes, he takes out one and lights it. His father motions for Kirov to pass him one, and Kirov obliges.
"Let's get the cat out of the bag. What business do you have with the Kang Tao girl and these other people? I raised you to be smart, smarter than this. What's the angle that's worth bringing this much attention to business?" Kirov looks at his father, not sure how he is meant to respond.
"Where are they?" Kirov asked coldly.
"Is that a question or a demand? I would ask you to reconsider-"
"I won't ask again. Where are they!" Kirov interrupted his father, now standing and looming over the desk.
"Who do you think you are talking to! I want an answer!" Dimitar is also now standing as he shouts at Kirov, "Twenty years I looked after you. Twenty years all for you to try and throw it away over some girl. You would think that you would have learnt from your mother." Kirov is taken aback by this comment,
"What do you mean? Mother died when I was young; she was nothing but good to us."
"Noting but good? Do you remember how she died, Kiril?"
"She was in a car accident on the motorway… A drunk driver rammed into the side of her car." Kirov takes a step back, confused as to why his father was bringing this up at a time like this.
"There was no drunk driver, Kiril." Kirov took a step back, practically falling back into his seat, "Your Mother made mistakes, Kirov. Mistakes that meant crisis for our family" Kirov was speechless; he couldn't believe what he was hearing, what his father was implying. "Good people die every day, Kirov. Good people." Kirov's heart rate started to rise as he began to understand what his father was trying to tell him, "That woman tried to throw every good thing I did for her away, and for what? To help her sleep better at night. Sleep better in the ten-million-dollar penthouse that I bought for her! She betrayed me… She betrayed you!"
Kirov couldn't stop himself from hyperventilating. His tunnel vision was locked onto his father. As he tried to get a hold of himself, he clenched his fist, getting ready to bring Marto in, when his father pressed a button on his desk. Two men in suits walked in, with Krisi and Vakso in tow.
"Krisi, Vasko! Are you all right?" Kirov turned to see Krisi and Vasko, hands tied up in front of them, clearly roughed up. Turning to his father, he demanded, "Let them go now!"
"Why Kirov? Why should I let them go? If I let them go, that would have serious implications for my business, our business, our empire." Kirov sat there, speechless, unsure how to respond to his father. "This is the life you live, the life you were born for. This is not a path that you chose, or a path that you can turn away from; you know that now. I can forgive this incident if you understand the facts of the matter."
"And what facts are those?"
"That you are helping these people hurts us; that this woman is not good for us, or for you. I know better than anyone what a woman can do to you. A woman can take apart your life in ways that Europol or all the gangsters in Sofia could never hope to. Your mother nearly took everything away from us. I made a choice… You need to make the same choice now."
Kirov sat back in his chair. He looked at Krisi, then back at his father. He was still trying to fully come to terms with what his father was saying about his mother, and now he is faced with an impossible decision. Not whether he let Krisi live or not. Whether he was ready to finally make a choice, either way he swayed, this would be the first time he truly chose what he wanted to do with his life. To be completely honest, he was not ready to admit that he knew what he wanted.
As Kirov thought, one of the men in suits, who bore the Kang Tao insignia, tightened his grip on her arm. Kirisi pulled away from him as he went in even harder. This led to her stamping on his foot as he pushed her over the table. Seconds after she fell over the table, the door burst off its hinges.
Marto was standing there, and the guards who were guarding the door were slumped over the walls, with blood coating their faces. Immediately, Dimitar's guards pulled out their guns, aiming them at Marto. Kirov jumps out of his seat to stand in the line of fire,
"STOP!" Kirov shouted at the guards, expecting them to listen to him. They did not. Kirov got ready to reach for his gun as one voice cut through the tension.
"My son said to stop. Leave us."
"I'm not leaving them with those psychopaths!" Marto shouts, taking a step further into the room.
"Marto, it's okay. Go with them to make sure Krisi and Vasko are okay. I will settle this with my father alone." Kirov put a hand on Marto's shoulder, reassuring him. Marto did not respond, simply walking over and leaving the room with the others. As they were about to close the door, Dimitar called out.
"The girl stays." Those words echoed in Kirov's head. Once again, he began to realise that he would have to come to terms with the choice he would have to make.
With only Kirov, Dimitar, and Krisi left in the room, Kirov sat down once again. The three stayed in silence as Dimitar reached under his desk and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
"Kiril, would you mind pouring two glasses?" Dimitar asked as he reached down under the desk once again. Kirov obliged reluctantly, pouring the whiskey. After pouring the second glass, Dimitar took out a revolver and put it on the table between them.
"Nazdrave Kiril." Dimitar raised his glass, waiting for Kirov to meet his glass. Kirov does do hesitantly, and the two of them drink.
"The choice is in front of you, Kirov. There is one bullet in there. The choice is yours, but let me make sure you understand. If you want out of this life, if you want to throw away everything you have been working for your whole life, that bullet needs to go between my eyes." Kirov stared at his father, shocked by the absurdity of his proposition, "Or, you make the right choice and remove this stain on your life, the stain that is standing there." Dimitar pointed to Krisi. Pushing the gun towards Kirov, Kirov picks it up. The gun was heavy, heavier than any gun he had held before. Heavy because the one bullet inside the chamber would decide what he wants, and what type of man he truly is.
"Kill me, Kiril, and live the rest of your life like a dog on the run. Or kill her and cement your place as the future head of the family, the emperor of the empire I built for the last thirty years!" Kirov cocked the gun and stood from his seat.
"Kirov! You can't seriously be considering this! You know what's the right choice. You don't even need to make a choice; you need to start living for yourself. Just free me, and we can escape. Don't fall for his trap!" As Kirov lowered the gun and began to think, Dimitar pulled out another gun and aimed it at Krisi.
Kirov instinctively aimed the revolver at his father, as his finger slid closer to the trigger.
"I'm making the choice easier for you, Kiril. It's her or me. YOUR MOVE!"
Kirov's mind raced. A million thoughts are being processed in the span of a second. But no matter how much he thought, he could only see two outcomes in this situation. Standing over his father's corpse, or Krisi's. He took a deep breath and turned. Now facing Krisi, he pointed the gun at her.
"Sit on the sofa." He emotionally commanded her to sit, a command to which she denies,
"Kirov, think about what you're doing, you can't do this. You know you can't do this-"
"SHUT UP!" Kirov pushed her onto the sofa. He looked into her eyes, full of tears.
"Kirov, please… Don't do this." Krisi pleaded with him, the look on her face becoming too much for him to bear. The gun started to shake uncontrollably as he used his other hand to steady it. Krisi closed her eyes and looked away from him. Kirov steadied his hand and turned his head to meet his father's gaze. His father had lowered his gun as he nodded.
"Do it, Kiril, take what you deserve. Take what you earned." His father encouraged him. As Kirov turned back to Krisi, she still had her eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze. With a deep breath, he put his finger on the trigger, and as his finger sat over the decision that would change his life, it no longer felt impossible.
BANG
The revolver was still smoking as Kirov dropped it. His ears were ringing, and his legs turned fluid. He stumbled back and fell over. He started hyperventilating, and his tunnel vision started to close. Right as the world was bout to go black, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Kirov… Kirov! It's okay!" Krisi pulls him into a tight embrace, and she pulls his head away so as not to see the horrific scene in front of him. Dimitar slumped over the desk with blood pooling all over the floor. Krisi takes his hand and squeezes it tight. "Kirov, we need to go now!"
The door bursts open, and it's Marto and Vasko. The alarm starts to blast, and Marto shouts,
"We need to get out of here. NOW!"