22. Mila
22
MILA
V italy and I don’t make it out of the parking garage before Alik comes for me.
His nose is red and swollen, a thin white bandage pinching the top of it, and a bruise is already forming on his jaw. If he’s angry about it, it doesn’t show. Somehow, he looks remorseful, which for Alik is a lot. I’ve never seen him frown like this. And that can only mean one thing.
Nikita knows.
“I need to take you to the warehouse, Mila,” he says to me.
Vitaly is the one to respond, his chest puffing out at my defense. “Why?”
Alik flicks his gaze to Vitaly but addresses me. “Come on. We can’t keep Nikita waiting.”
“What does he want?” Vitaly demands, shifting in front of me. I don’t imagine the act is even conscious.
I think it’s sweet that Vitaly wants to shield me from the inevitable. My heart warms at the protectiveness I see flaring, and I have no doubt he’d fight for me right now.
But it isn’t time. We aren’t ready, our men aren’t positioned, nothing has been put into place. Nikita would win.
“It’s fine.” I place my hand on Vitaly’s arm. When he looks at me, I try to smile. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
Vitaly shakes his head, but the sound of a gun cocking pulls his attention to Alik. I don’t even turn my head. I could see that coming a mile away.
“It’s fine ,” I reiterate, cupping his face and drawing his narrowed eyes to me. “I’ll meet you back at the house.”
He looks reluctant to let me go, but I pull away anyway and follow Alik to his car. We drive in silence for the entirety of the ride, my bitter resentment filling up the car. He just sits in it, his face stoic as he drives.
When he parks the car, I put my hand on the door. He grabs my arm to stop me from opening it.
“Just do what he wants,” Alik says, as if I have any other option. I glare at him for a moment, part of me wanting to climb out to get as far from him as possible, the other part wanting to spit in his face.
“How long did you wait to call Daddy after getting your ass kicked? Thirty seconds, or did you give it a full minute of thought?”
Alik doesn’t answer, but his frown returns, and it sends a shiver down my spine. Whatever is about to happen is bad.
Instead of answering, he climbs out of the car and walks around to my side before ushering me into the warehouse. I catch the eyes of a few people who don’t smile or nod. They drop their gazes as I pass like my misfortune could potentially rub off on them. It makes my heart quicken, beating violently in my chest the entire walk to Nikita’s office.
Then, when we step through the door and I see who’s waiting, it stops.
My father and two brothers, Leo and Luka, sit in chairs across from Roman while Nikita is propped against his desk. I scan my family before locking eyes with Nikita. He frowns. But it’s not an Alik frown. There’s nothing remorseful about this one. It’s only meant to amuse himself, as if he actually is a human being capable of feeling disappointment he doesn’t express as anger.
Nikita knows.
One look into the dark eyes I’ve stared into for years, and I’m certain of it. What I don’t know is what he’ll do about it.
Why is my family here?
“Come in, Mila.” Nikita crooks his hand to beckon me forth. Alik shoves my back when I don’t budge, sending me stumbling a few steps while darting my eyes over my family.
They appear unharmed, but only Luka looks directly at me. My father’s cold eyes stare straight ahead, and Leo looks at his lap, his face twisted with what looks like worry. I’ve never been close with either of my older brothers, but if I had to choose one I connected with more, it would be Leo. Luka… It’s difficult to connect with Luka.
I search my brother’s eyes now for some clue as to what Nikita has planned, but they’re blank. Like he’s bored.
Nikita pushes off the desk and walks to the empty seat by Roman, his hand splayed toward it. “ Sit , Киса.”
My shoulders squared, I walk to the chair but pause when his hand slides over my back in a caress. When he stops, I sit.
He limps back to the desk then sighs. “We have a problem… Your loyalty has been called into question, my beautiful girl.”
My beautiful girl.
I close my eyes and breathe for a moment. It isn’t a good sign that he’s talking like this, playing with me like this. He isn’t about to shoot me in the head. He’d be much colder.
He’s about to be cruel.
“My loyalty has always been to you , Pakhan. I’ve only done what you’ve asked of me.”
“I asked you to fuck my nephew?”
I flinch at the bite in his tone but hold my ground. “ Yes , Pakhan. You told me to ‘acquaint myself with him’ and to do ‘whatever necessary to earn his trust.’”
Nikita crosses his arms over his chest as he lets out a low hum and relaxes against the desk. He takes his time before responding. Like he’s truly considering that. Like he didn’t know he was setting me up for failure when he gave me my mission.
“You’re right, Киса. I did say that. But you forgot one tiny detail, my love…” He pinches his finger and thumb together. “You were supposed to tell me what he was planning. You earned his trust, but I’m afraid you’ve lost mine .”
My gaze flicks to my family, and when I go back to Nikita, he’s smiling. He knows what I’m thinking.
Is he going to kill them? Or are they here to watch me die?
“I didn’t know what he was planning until this morning, Pakhan. I was going to tell you as soon as possible.” I clear the anxiety from my throat and sit up like this isn’t a trial and I’m not on death row. “The Italians… They’ve offered to lend him a hand in taking out you and your supporters. That was why he met with Alexa Volcov. He—he has another meeting with them happening soon. I can find out tonight.”
Nikita’s teeth show as he grins.
Sweat forms on my forehead even as my hands feel cold as ice. “I know you saw the surveillance in Vitaly’s room last night. That should show my loyalty, Pakhan. I panicked when he asked me if I wanted him to become Pakhan. I wanted to come to your room right away, but it was late, and I needed to wrap my head around how to tell you everything I knew. I am loyal to you, always .”
Nikita’s brows pinch at my mention of last night, and the sick smile he sports falls as he glares at me. It takes me several seconds to process his anger. If I wasn’t sweating with fear, I wouldn’t need that long.
Nikita would never be angry about me being with Vitaly because he doesn’t care about me. He only owns me, and if hurting me hurts Vitaly, he’ll do that gleefully.
He’s angry because I just confused him, gave him something he didn’t know when he thought he knew everything. When his glare slowly moves to Alik, I follow his lead.
Alik stares at me with a wrinkle between his brows like he’s confused. Like he has no idea what I’m talking about.
Like he isn’t the one who told Nikita about my betrayal.
Pain curls my stomach as I turn to look at my father who still won’t face me. His jaw is tight, his lip slightly curled.
He’s disgusted. Not with Nikita. Never with Nikita. But always with me.
My lips part as betrayal surges through me, tearing off pieces of my heart that make me hunch forward in pain.
Nikita clears his throat and seems to collect himself while I slowly break apart in my chair. “Well, Mila, as you know, I’m a merciful man, and I’ve always cared very deeply for you.” He walks to me and lifts my chin so I’m forced to look at him. “So I’m going to choose to believe you,” he says, his voice soft and reassuring. He smiles like a kind, generous master, and I wonder if he thinks I’ll return it with gratitude.
I can’t.
I fucking hate him.
For so many reasons, the biggest being what he’s done to my family. The image he’s given my father of me. The way he pokes and prods at it, inviting my father here just so he can see me reprimanded.
“Does that make you happy, Киса?”
“Yes, Pakhan,” I grind without hesitation.
He smiles wide and pets my head. “Good. I want you to be happy more than I want anything in the world, my beautiful girl.” He stands up straight and takes a deep breath. When he pulls out his knife, I tense, my eyes locking onto it while my lungs stop.
“As she says, Mila has always been loyal to me,” he says, turning to my father. “So if what she says is true, it means the information you’ve given me is false… And I do not tolerate liars in my organization.”
My father’s eyes widen as he looks between Nikita and the knife. “What?”
“Don’t be a coward, Fyodor. Stand up.”
My mouth is frozen open for seconds before I’m finally able to speak. It isn’t until my father stands, confusion clear on his face, that words form.
“Don’t!” I jump to my feet, my hand outstretched like I’ll grab the knife, but I’m feet away.
Nikia turns to me, his brow raised. “What is it, dear?”
“Don’t.” I shake my head slowly with my hands up, trying to ease a wild bear. “ Please . Kill me instead.”
Nikita rears back, but it’s only mock surprise. I’m taking every step he wants me to take. People always do.
“Kill you instead? Why would I do that?”
I swallow, ready to confess everything, and I’m certain he can see it on my face when his mouth opens to speak.
“Is it because you’re guilty, Mila? Because if that’s the case, your whole family will have to pay for it. That’s the product of bad blood , and I won’t be dirtying our gene pool with your traitorous family trash either.”
I stare at him, my hand still outstretched. Slowly, it lowers, my eyes darting while I try to think of what to do.
He knows I’m lying. He’s going to kill me, no matter what he says.
This is a game. It’s just fun for him.
But if I say I did it… I believe him when he says he’d kill my family right in front of me, right now, just so I’ll suffer before he ends my life.
My eyes sting while I peer at my father’s stone-cold face, no longer crimped in confusion, no longer looking away from me. A moment passes before he nods, giving me permission to end his life, or more likely, save my brothers.
“I’m not guilty, Pakhan,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “But my father isn’t guilty either. He misunderstood what I told him.”
“You’re lying now .” Nikita limps to me and takes the back of my neck before bringing his face close to mine. “And you’re making me question you. Please don’t do that… Did your father lie or didn’t he?”
The back of my throat hurts as emotion pushes up, but tears don’t come. I think my father taught me so well not to cry that he isn’t capable of summoning them. But I feel the pain, deep down, and I don’t know if it’ll ever fade.
I nod, my eyes closing as I swallow. “He lied.”
“I thought so,” Nikita coos. He takes my hand and places the knife in it. “Now, why don’t you prove your loyalty to me?”
My eyes whip to Nikita as my lips part with a gasp. My face twists with a silent plea, the last I’ll ever beg of him. Don’t be this cruel .
Nikita sighs as he looks around my pained face. “I know it’s hard, Киса. I’m so sorry it has to be this way… But I’ve thought very long and hard about it, and I’ve decided to indulge your wishes. I want you to be my wife, and my wife needs to be strong. You can be strong, can’t you?”
He smiles as if he’s encouraging me, as if that wasn’t the most fucked-up marriage proposal in history.
I don’t smile back. Don’t even force it. I grasp the knife when Nikita presses, but all I want to do is jam it into his side and then do it again a thousand times. Anarchy would ensue, and it’s likely the Bratva wouldn’t survive … but it might be worth it.
I close my eyes at that thought, forcing it down while I grasp the knife tighter.
I am an Alekseev. I do not abandon my people.
When I open my eyes, I peer at my brothers. Leo is slumped forward, a hand on his forehead like he can’t stand to watch. Luka just stares, his face as inscrutable as when I walked in here. A slice of hatred cuts through me at his ambivalence. This must be the worst moment of my life, and he’s the only person in this room who has the opportunity to offer a chance of solidarity. Instead, he offers me ice.
I step past Nikita and up to my father who doesn’t flinch, cringe, or otherwise respond. I should hate him for feeding me to Nikita like this, but he was only doing what he felt was right. He put the Bratva above his family the same way he taught me to.
He’s strong. Loyal. Brave.
He was wasted on this world.
“Do it,” he demands when I just stand in front of him with the knife at my side, my throat feeling as though it’s been punched. “Don’t you dare cry.”
“I’m sorry, Papa,” I whisper.
He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “Marry the Pakhan. Bring pride to our name, Mila.”
I close my eyes and lean into him, seeking warmth I know he’ll never give, even when it’s his last chance. It kills me that even now, I know he isn’t talking about Vitaly. He thinks Nikita will actually marry me. That his death is more than a cruel game.
My eyes clenched shut, I place my hand over my father’s heart, feeling its beat before plunging the knife into his chest.
He grunts, his body tensing against me as he continues to stand tall for several seconds before he topples to the floor. Life has drained from his eyes before he ever makes it.
“Good girl,” Nikita says, placing his hand on my shoulder. He kisses my cheek then jerks the knife from my father’s chest while I stand numb, staring at the corpse of the first man I ever loved.
“Roman, take my fiancée dress shopping, will you? I think Mila and I will marry next week. I’m feeling spontaneous .”
“Of course, Pakhan,” Roman says before standing and leading me away. I walk numbly to his car, knowing with absolute certainty we aren’t going dress shopping.