20. Yana
Fyodor’s Rules #35 - Only let people tell you what to do when you were going to do it anyway.
We had all attended the funeral for Lukas”s men. They were all buried on the same day. And as they had known the same people, it was decided one combined service and wake would be held. There had been a lot of drinking and reminiscing. I kept quiet and soaked up as many of the stories about Lukas as I could from the people who worked with him. Alexei had been in some of them as well. It was wild, hearing some of the things they had gotten up to.
All his men spoke of each other with such a fierce loyalty and fondness. Lukas clearly treated them well. I wasn”t sure he realized his power had helped to bind them together. It didn”t make it any less impressive, or meant he cared any less. It was just interesting to see as an outside observer.
Whilst Fyodor hadn”t been a religious man, all the Bratva funerals we had ever attended had been Orthodox in tradition. Nikolai had organized for one of the meeting rooms in the hotel to be used, so anyone who wanted could come and view his body. We had all seen to its care together, washing him and dressing him in white robes that made him look older than he was. It seemed odd to say, given he was dead, but it was like some vital spark was no longer there. Like he wasn”t the man we had known.
There had been a steady stream of people. Most were Bratva, but not all of them. Most passed on their condolences, but there were a few who had refused to speak with us. His old pack had asked to sit vigil on the last day, and Pasha organized everything they needed.
There hadn”t been a traditional church service, but many people had spoken. Fyodor had been well loved, even though he had been absent for so long. The procession from the hotel to the cemetery had stopped traffic for half-an-hour, but Nikolai and I had smoothed any trouble over with the police.
The remembrance after the funeral had gone long into the night. Story after story was told and so many toasts were given, I was surprised the hotel had any vodka left. Pasha told me afterwards he ordered more specifically, but he had still been worried it hadn”t been enough.
Finally, the day of the meeting with all the families arrived. There had been a brief discussion about things at the funeral, but most people had kept the conversation to Fyodor.
The weight which hovered over us felt smothering as we went about our coffee and breakfast. The thought we had gone through all of this, and now it could all be over, was one which stirred up equal parts of rage and grief inside of me.
What if their decision was to kill us all? I couldn”t imagine any of my brothers going down easy. Not that I would let someone end our lives because they weren”t happy with the way we had dealt with this betrayal.
I still didn”t have a room of my own, so I was getting ready in Alexei”s room. Most of my belongings were split between Alexei and Lukas”s closets as they”d had space.
After breakfast, Alexei had disappeared down to his basement, and none of us tried to stop him. It was better he work off any stress before the meeting.
I was dressed all in black, as we were still mourning our father, and I wanted it to show. The dress fell to my knees, flared out over the petticoats, and cinched at the waist. A pair of elbow-length gloves waited on the bed. My hair was set in waves, and I had a hat to pin in place.
I was finishing the last swipe of my red lipstick when there was a knock at the door. The boys didn”t wait for me to answer. They all filed into the room, serious expressions on their faces, like they were on their way to the gallows. Though maybe, we were.
They also wore all black. Each one dressed in a suit which looked like they’d had to be poured into it. I wasn”t sure if this was Pasha or Nikolai”s doing, but I wasn”t complaining. Black shirts and black ties. The only color was their eyes. It was an intimidating look when they stood together. There could be no doubt in anyone”s mind, these were made men.
Nikolai stepped forward, with a box held in his hands. “Fyodor told me, quite a few times, he brought you back here to put a crown on your head. You deserve one, Yana. You were always supposed to be with us. And we want them to know you are.”
He opened the box to reveal a silver crown sitting on dark velvet. It was gorgeous, and I couldn”t keep the laughter from bubbling up out of me.
“This would certainly make a statement. Are you sure you want me wearing this to the meeting? We want them to know we take them seriously.” I was a little worried about the message it would send, but Lukas had already stepped forward and lifted the intricate metalwork out carefully.
He stepped in front of me, his green eyes serious as he looked down. “You are our queen, Yana. They should know it. Everything we”ve ever done; we”ve done for you.” He set the crown down on my hair, adjusting it so it sat perfectly. It nestled into the black waves like it belonged there.
I couldn”t lie, it felt good. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the faith they had in me, or the crown that was boosting my confidence. Though surely every woman felt this way with a crown on her head. My posture straightened, and I took a moment to truly look at each of them. There was no hesitation in their expressions, no doubt or worry. Just love and faith stared back at me, and I was overwhelmed.
“Thank you. I love you. All of you.” I stepped up to each one of my brothers and placed a soft, chaste kiss to their lips, although Alexei nipped me as I pulled away from a move I really should have expected.
“We should get going. We don”t want to give them an excuse to use against us.” Nikolai looked at his watch, then at the rest of us.
Leaving my hat on the bed, I picked up my gloves and slipped them on before taking his arm. There were no more words as we made our way down to the car. Lukas and Alexei slid in the front, while Nikolai and Pasha were on either side of me in the back.
The car ride was smooth, and it was only Pasha and Nikolai, each with a hand on my thigh that kept me grounded. Their touch kept my panic at bay and stopped me from spiraling. Whatever we were about to face, we would face it together. I would let no one tear us apart again. The same determination radiated from each of my brothers.
The mansion looked different from the last time I had been here. Whether it was the daylight, or the lack of decoration for the Masquerade, the air felt heavy. We walked in together, my arm in Nikolai”s, with the rest of my brothers following close behind. The other families viewed Nikolai as the leader, so he was the one I stayed closest to. Everything we did was about the image we conveyed.
A butler showed us to a meeting room, and we were clearly the last ones to arrive. It was a deliberate move on our part. We hadn”t wanted people waiting for us, but we also didn”t want to stand around awkwardly while people stared.
Mrs. Westerly met us at the door to the meeting room, she kissed Nikolai”s cheeks first, then mine.
“You look lovely, dear.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes which told me she knew exactly who I was, and I let out a soft exhale. A little of the tension eased from within me.
The families were arranged around the table, and Mrs. Westerly moved back to the head. The Bratva and the Italians were on one side, with the Armenians and the Irish on the other. Each family had only sent three people to represent them, yet the large room still felt crowded.
Nikolai helped me sit first before he took the chair beside me. Pasha sat on my other side; his tablet set on the table in front of him. Lukas and Alexei stood behind us. A few nervous glances flicked to them before they settled curiously on to me and then Nikolai. None of us spoke. There were no introductions to be made. Mrs. Westerly was the one who called the room to order.
“Now, before we start, there will be no violence until everything is decided. Anyone who starts something is going to find it quickly ended, and not in the way they want. The Grandmother”s Children have not been given a seat at this meeting. They are considered a part of the Bratva, and I will not hear any further argument otherwise.” It made sense and explained the hag-looking woman sitting between the two Bratva members. I recognized one from the funeral, he was the Alpha of Fyodor”s previous pack. Hopefully, he was on our side.
“You all know why we are here. The Sirota brothers and their female companion stand accused of attacking and killing members of the Italian family, as well as the Bratva. Before we hear demands from any family, I and the other members here wish to hear your explanation.” Mrs. Westerly’s gaze was steady, and her firm tone didn”t let her be interrupted. The Italians looked like they wanted to argue, but wisely kept their mouths shut.
We had already decided Nikolai would speak on behalf of the Sirota family. I had wanted to speak for myself, but it would send the image that we were not a united front. Also, we didn”t want anyone accusing me of using my abilities once they found out my real identity. I would answer any question addressed to me, but otherwise, I was expected to stay silent.
“I am sure I don”t have to recount any of what happened to my family a decade ago. We all know the history. In fact, the aftermath of that incident was the first time my brothers and I were called to sit here and explain ourselves. It was the day we were given a seat at this table.” Nikolai”s voice was steady and firm. He held eye contact with each member of the council; his charisma and confidence making them look at him.
“Clearly, given the funeral most of you attended this week, the information which was given to us was false. It was manufactured by Ksenia of the Grandmother”s Children, in concert with Fiorenza and Fyodor”s own sister, Polina. Fyodor and Yana were told my brothers and I had ordered a hit on them and fled to Europe. As you know, we were told they had been killed. We only know this because Yana eventually came back to Chicago looking for vengeance, as any of you sitting at this table would have done.” He motioned to me, and eyes widened, whispers started around the room.
The leader of the Bratva leaned forward, staring at me, then looked to Mrs. Weatherly. He didn”t speak until she nodded. Turning back to me, his eyes were narrowed. “I am sure you can understand our skepticism. You were introduced to all of us this week as Adrienne, here from France. If you are who you say you are, we are going to need some proof.”
I felt Pasha squeeze my leg in reassurance. “I apologize for the deception, but it was required. We didn”t know how many people knew I was still alive. As for proof, drink the rest of your coffee.” I laced just enough power into my words to make him follow the command. I didn”t want anyone accusing me of doing anything more. He picked up his mug and drained the contents in two gulps before putting it back, looking satisfied.
“She was a Siren, so that demonstration satisfies us.” The Irish spoke up, but he was looking at Nikolai. “If you knew all of this, lad. Why didn”t you come to the families? We”ve heard you out before.” There was a look of understanding on his face as he asked his question. I got the impression he was giving Nikolai a chance to explain himself. That really, he was on our side.
“I am sure you can all understand this was an intense betrayal. We were stripped of our family and we almost did not survive. Yana was denied a home, denied her family for a decade. She believed those closest to her betrayed her. None of you would have let someone live if they’d done this to you. You wouldn”t have sought permission.”
One of the Italians banged their fist on the table. “You killed one of ours. No matter what you say, the act will be paid for with blood.”
A glance from Mrs. Weatherly cowed him slightly, but he still glared at us murderously. Nikolai, however, took it in stride.
“We have paid in blood, each of us. We paid in a decade of blood. And do not forget, Fyodor is dead.” Murmurs circled around the table, a myriad of languages being spoken, all the whispers blended so none could be picked out over the other. The conversation carried on, and the five of us looked at each other. There wasn”t much else to be said. People would be on our side, or they wouldn”t. They would understand, or they’d use the chance to attack us while we were down.
Lukas and Alexei had placed a hand on each of my shoulders, while Pasha and Nikolai gripped my hands. It was a calm moment, all of us together. I looked at each of them and committed their faces to memory. I tried to be hopeful, but it was hard. None of the families in Chicago were known for their mercy.
Each family fell into silence, one by one. Attention turned to Mrs. Weatherly, and I held my breath as she spoke, squeezing Nikolai and Pasha”s hands.
“In times like this, each family gets a vote to decide what happens. It”s how we keep things from devolving into war. Chicago is prosperous for us all, and it is because we know how to come together and talk.”
My respect for the old woman grew with each word she spoke. Everyone in the room listened, no one interrupted, they waited to be called upon. She pointed to the Bratva first.
The two men looked at us, while the woman refused to raise her gaze. Her expression was bitter, and I let my hope grow, if only a little. “Bratva blood was spilled on both sides. But more, the Bratva was deprived of members who should have been welcomed amongst their ranks, adding their strength to our own. We are satisfied. We would also like to open an offer for the Sirota children to return home to their family. Our packs welcome you.”
I exhaled softly, my shoulders dropped from my jaw a little.
The witch at the table stood up and muttered under her breath in Russian as she stormed out. A soft breeze swirled around us, as Alexei muttered as well. I could only hope he was able to ward off whatever she tried to do. Mrs. Weatherly narrowed her eyes, but said nothing, looking to the Italian”s instead.
“We lost well-respected and powerful members of our family. We are not satisfied. The Sirota have a debt to us which must be repaid.” It was as we expected. Though they hadn”t named a specific price, and that troubled me.
The Irish were next. “If nothing else, this shows we didn”t do everything we could have in the first place. It’s a lesson for the future. The Sirota were betrayed, and they repaid that betrayal with death, just as we would.”
He flashed me a wink as he finished, and I couldn”t keep my cheeks from heating. There was something about fae charisma even I couldn”t resist.
When Mrs. Weatherly motioned to the Armenians, I held my breath. Out of all the factions, they were the one whose vote we had been unable to predict.
“The Bratva should take better care of its youth.” Their leader”s voice was deep, and when he was done, he leaned back. He had nothing more to say. The Bratva bared their teeth but didn”t respond. Doing so would only lead to a fight, and everyone knew better.
With all votes completed, Mrs. Weatherly clapped her hands. “That settles it. The Sirota family will give their hotel to the Italians, but maintain the rest of their holdings unless they choose to join the Bratva. Those negotiations can happen at a later date. Yana Sirota is recognized alongside her brothers by the city of Chicago. It’s good to have you home, young lady. I trust you will keep your brothers in line.”
Her words were rung in my ears, and I nodded.
No more death, no more bloodshed.
Nikolai didn”t look happy, but the Italians looked appeased. Everyone stood, and the Armenians and the Italians left straight away. All three of the Irish representatives stopped to congratulate us. Lukas spoke with them the longest, and I saw a few looks being sent my way. Now that would be interesting to deal with in the future.
The Bratva were the next to approach us, and Fyodor”s old Alpha looked at us seriously. “I meant what I said. You would be welcome.”
Nikolai shook his head, though he offered the man his hand. “We have made it this far on our own. But don’t worry, we remember where we came from.”
His words seemed to appease the man, and with handshakes all round, we were left alone with Mrs. Weatherly. She sipped her tea, watching it all unfold.
“A fresh start for all of you. The hotel is successful enough to appease the Italians without you having to give them a pound of flesh. And now you can focus on the nightclub, which I think is more your style, anyway.” She seemed to have known the question we had without us speaking. She stood, kissed each of the boys on the cheek, and then squeezed my hands. “Take care of them, little Siren. They are going to need it.”
Dismissed, we made our way out to the car. It was weird, stepping out into the sunlight. Everything was over. We had survived, maybe even won by most people’s standards. Alexei picked me up and twirled me around before he set me back down between them. Pasha had a wide grin on his face, and even Lukas was smiling.
Everything finally felt like it was going to be okay.