Page 80 of Cowboy Elite 2: Mike

“Are you kidding? There’s shooting going on all over this house.”

“Smoke screen.”

She stared at him, didn’t lower the gun even though her hands wanted to shake. "You killed a man."

"Yes. And you're the only witness. Which makes you valuable to both of us." He spoke like they were discussing business, not murder. "My organization is collapsing. The Feds have records, testimonies, everything except the one charge that matters, the murder you witnessed."

"Good."

"Without your testimony, I walk on most charges. Serve maybe five years in a minimum-security facility. With it?" He shook his head. "Life in prison. Possibly death penalty."

"What do you want from me?" But she already knew.

"I want you to disappear. Truly disappear this time. New identity, new country, enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life." His voice stayed calm, reasonable. "All you have to do is refuse to testify. Tell the Feds your memory is unclear. That you can't be certain of what you saw."

"I know what I saw."

"Then lie." Still calm. "For Charlotte's sake, if not your own."

Liv's blood froze.

His gaze moved to Charlotte pressed against Liv's side. "Beautiful child. Reminds me of my granddaughter at that age. Same curly hair. Same serious eyes." Something shifted in his expression, not quite regret, but close. "It would be a shame if something happened to her. Accidents are so common on ranches. Animals spook. Equipment malfunctions. A child can disappear so easily?—"

"You son of a bitch. Don’t you dare threaten her."

"I'm offering you a deal, Olivia. Walk away. Let me walk away. Everyone survives. Everyone moves on." He took a step closer. "Or you testify, and I make sure everyone you love pays the price. Starting with that child."

Liv's finger tightened on the trigger.

Behind her, Charlotte's small voice piped up. "You're a bad man."

Russo paused, looked at the child. "Excuse me?"

"You're a bad man. And bad men don't get to win. Miss Liv said so." Charlotte's voice was steady, certain, carrying the absolute moral authority only six-year-olds possessed. "And you can't hurt her because she's brave and we love her and love is stronger than being mean."

Russo stared at the child for a long moment, and something cracked behind his eyes, grief, maybe, or the ghost of a man he used to be before blood and money and violence became the only language he spoke.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I am a bad man. And bad men don't get to win."

Which was when Liv realized he'd already lost. Not to her. Not to the FBI or the Watkins family or Sheriff Tucker waiting outside.

To himself. To the choices he'd made that couldn't be unmade, the life he'd built that was collapsing under its own weight.

"My testimony is already on record," she said quietly. "I gave a deposition to the FBI three days ago. It's sealed, notarized, and stored in multiple secure locations. If anything happens to me, if I disappear, if I die in an accident, if I simply change my story, that testimony gets released to every major news network in the country."

Russo went very still.

"So you see," Liv continued, voice steady despite the fear screaming through her veins, "killing me changes nothing. You're already done. The only question now is whether you add more charges to what you're facing."

Russo stared at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, he began to laugh, quiet, bitter, defeated.

"Smart girl. I should've killed you the night you saw me. Would've been so much easier."

"Probably," Liv agreed.

"For what it's worth," Russo said, "I hope you have a good life. Better than mine."

The safe room door burst open.