31. Lev
Chapter 31
Lev
I ’m satisfied, which is a strange feeling for a man like me. Normally, the voices in my head are chattering and gibbering, warring against the darkness. Trying to pull me back from the brink.
Instead, this morning, it’s quiet.
There’s a strange stillness for once.
I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I know the source.
Carmie’s body intertwined with mine. Her slow, steady breaths as she slept beside me. The knowledge that she was safe and protected. My baby and my wife. Both mine.
I didn’t wake her up when I got out of bed. I let her sleep in. She’s been pushing herself hard trying to get back to her old fencing skills, but she’s still pregnant and needs her rest.
I’ll talk to her about taking it a little easy later on.
I’m smiling to myself and thinking about Carmie’s moans as I try to unlock Fed Jeweler’s back door.
But my key won’t work.
I stare at the lock. It’s different—gold instead of silver.
“He changed it,” I snarl into my phone.
Alex’s voice sounds like he just got out of bed. The lazy fuck, it’s already ten minutes past six in the morning. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m at the shop and the locks are different.”
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“My father changed the goddamn locks on us.” I slam my fist into the door.
“Calm down. Think about it. What’s this matter? He still needs to staff the place.”
“Dasha and Katerina can handle most of the work. All he needs to do is throw in a few idiot goons to handle the shit in the back.”
“He needs to manage the books. He needs to stay on top of the inventory.”
“He doesn’t give a fuck!” I’m breathing hard and struggling with my composure. The sun’s beginning to rise, and it would almost be beautiful if I didn’t want to burn this place down for a second time.
Alex is right though. I need to calm down and think.
My father’s no fool. He didn’t reach his level of power without fending off his share of competitors. Only I thought he’d be too distracted by Canada to really understand what was happening here.
“I’m heading out now,” Alex says. I can hear him moving around in the background. Someone’s voice mumbles something. I’m guessing that’s Natalya. “We’ll deal with it.”
“Don’t bother. We’re moving up the timeline.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Meet me at my old man’s place.”
“Lev—”
But I hang up the phone.
I’m thinking clearer than I have in a very long time.
I’ve been trying to do this the soft way. Maybe I still think I can win my father over after all this time.
He’ll never value me. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, I’ll always be the younger brother.
The worthless one.
The punching bag.
The cutting board.
My life never really mattered to him, at least not until Step got killed.
And it’s okay.
That’s the thing, it’s okay. I don’t need my father to give a damn. He can look at me like I’m trash on the sidewalk for all I care. I can let go of all my hang-ups, all my worries, everything that was holding me back up to this point.
I don’t need to win over all his clients.
I just need to put a gun to his head and end this.
My voice is steady when I make my second call. Adriano answers on the second ring. “I’m guessing this is important,” he says.
“It’s time.”
“Something happened?”
“I’m moving this morning. I need you to follow through with your promise.”
“I’ll be there, brother.”
The house looks like it always did. A nice row home in a good neighborhood. Black door, black shutters. The face nice and crisp. Red brick with a series of decorative swirls where it meets the roof.
I hated this place growing up.
This house meant pain.
Which was hard because I loved my older brother and my little sister. I’m not sure Nat ever really understood how bad things were—she came too late to understand. But once Mom died, it was like Dad changed.
I became the cutting board. Step was the golden child.
There’s a knock at my car window. Alex gets into the passenger seat and sits beside me in silence. I’ve been waiting alone for twenty minutes, but I don’t know why I haven’t walked in there yet.
“What do you think Step would say if he knew this was going to happen?” I ask Alex. He’s the only other person in the world that might understand.
“He wouldn’t be surprised. You know your brother. He was pragmatic and realistic.”
“But he loved our family.”
“He loved you and Natalya. He loved your mother before she died. But I don’t think he loved Oleg.”
I nod to myself and shift the gun resting in my lap. I make sure it’s loaded before tucking it into my waistband. “He tried to stop it, you know.” I don’t look at Alex as I talk. We’ve never discussed this before, but he was around at the very end for the worst of it when Dad finally realized he had to stop. “I remember him and Dad getting into screaming matches, and Dad wouldn’t budge. He just kept saying, I’m the perfect motivation.”
“It was wrong, what he did to you.”
“It worked though, didn’t it? Step was good. He was smart and focused.”
“Didn’t save his life.”
“No, I guess it didn’t.”
“If you knew it could, would you go back and do it all again?”
I let that thought roll around my head. Would I let myself get tortured all over again for the chance to save my brother’s life? Even knowing what it would do to me? How it would break me in ways I’m still trying to understand?
All that blood, all that suffering, at the hands of my own father.
I push the door open and don’t answer. Alex doesn’t push it. I expected him to try talking me out of this, but instead he only looks grim like there’s nothing else he can do. That’s Alex, loyal Alex. My sister’s husband, my dead brother’s best friend. Hell, my best friend.
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell him, pausing on the sidewalk. “I know how you feel about my father.”
“He brought me up. He gave me a chance.” Alex gives me a grim stare. “But I can see what he is now. What he did to you and to Step too. I was too young to get it back then, but now everything he did just reeks of fucking brutality and trauma. It ruined everything.”
“There’s no shame in turning back.”
“I’m with you until the end.”
I nod and knock on the door.
Dad’s young guard answers. He seems a little skeptical but lets me and Alex through. Why wouldn’t he? I’ve had disagreements with Dad in the past and I’ve even done stupid, spiteful shit to him out of anger and frustration. There’s no reason to suspect what I might do.
“We’ve got a new rule,” the young guy says, stopping me in my tracks. I turn back to him and he looks awkward. “No weapons in the house.”
My eyebrows raise. “I assume you’re carrying.”
“Got to for my job. But the boss?—”
“My father.”
“He said specifically, no weapons on anyone but staff. I’m sorry, but that means you two.”
I hesitate. I planned on walking into that office and shooting my father in the head. Clean in, clean out. Except without a gun, it’s going to be messy, and he might be able to call his men to help in time.
“Thanks,” the kid says as I hand over my weapon. Alex does the same.
My father’s on the phone and he waves us inside. I pour myself a whiskey in a heavy crystal glass while Alex lingers near the door.
“I understand that,” Dad’s saying to whoever’s on the line. “Call Jacque and tell that French-Canadian twat he’d better fix his fucking trucks and get them rolling again or we have a fucking problem. Don’t call me again until it’s done.” He hangs up and throws his phone down on the desk.
“Problems up north?” I ask.
He scowls and picks at his cuff. “Nothing that can’t be handled. To what do I owe the pleasure of my youngest son’s visit?”
“Your only son.” The bite of the whiskey is harsh. Dad rolls his eyes.
“How quickly we forget your brother.”
“Step’s dead. Unfortunately for you.”
“For everyone.” He jabs a finger on the desk. “Are you here to apologize? Frank’s fucking livid still.”
“You locked me out of the store.”
His smug smile makes me want to stab him in the eye. “I forgot I did that.”
I move closer to his desk. “Why?”
“Because you fucked up once already. Relax, you’re not fired, but I am making sure that all my stock is accounted for and I’m going to decide how Frank gets compensated. Most likely it’ll be from your private stash.”
“You didn’t have to change the locks.”
“Actually, I did. You’ve had too much freedom. I’m thinking you’re going to take a step back from the business. You never were able to handle it.”
“That’s probably because you never taught me how.”
He snorts and waves a hand. “You never wanted to learn. Only your brother?—”
I throw the crystal glass at his head. He grunts in shock as it thuds into his skull. It’s a great throw—right into his forehead—and hard enough to draw blood. He blinks at me in surprise, mouth moving without any sound.
I bound over the desk. Dad raises his hands, and there might’ve been a time when he could’ve defended himself from me, but that time was at least twenty years earlier. Now he’s old and he lost a step and I’m in my prime.
He topples backwards as I pummel him. We collapse into an undignified heap behind the desk. He tries rolling and grappling, but I punch his arms away, landing blow after blow.
“Connor!” he yells but it’s muffled when I slam a forearm into his mouth. He knees me in the crotch and shoves me back enough to shout again, louder this time. “Connor, help!”
There’s a slam at the door. Alex is there, holding it closed, as the kid named Connor pounds at it. I hit Dad again, and again, and again, before wrapping my hands around his throat.
His face is a wreck. His nose is bent and bloody, and blood is seeping between his crooked teeth. He snarls, animalistic, thrashing and fighting for his life. If I hadn’t done this before, it might take me off guard. People can be shockingly strong when they’re not holding back. When the only way to survive is to give it everything.
But I have a good grip.
“It’s time,” I say, breathing hard, sweat rolling down my face. “You’ve had long enough.”
“Fuck,” he gags, choking, face turning purple. “You. Mistake.”
I squeeze tighter. “You were never worthy.”
One last buck. He tries to throw me off, but I’m firmly planted. I stare into my father’s eyes as gunshots go off behind me. Connor must be trying to get through. I don’t bother looking. I want to see death take my father.
It comes for him, and the darkness in me screams with victory.
Oleg Federov goes still and slack. I keep holding on and wait longer, longer, wait for the light to go out from his eyes, wait until I’m sure he’s dead and gone, before I finally let him go.
I check his pulse. There’s nothing.
I push myself to my feet, shaking from exertion and adrenaline.
“What the fuck?” Connor the guard’s standing at the door. It’s open now, and Alex is crouching to the side. Clearly, he had to get out of the way when the shooting started.
Connor aims a gun at me, but it wavers.
“Oleg’s dead,” I tell him, staring him down.
If he pulls that trigger, it’s all over.
He looks at my father’s dead body. “You killed him.”
“I took control of this family. You might think you were loyal to him, but that was never true. You’re loyal to the Federov name. You’re loyal to the money we pay you. Now I’m my father. What are you going to do?”
“I was his guard.” The gun trembles. This fucking kid’s going to kill me by accident.
“And I was his son. Lower the weapon. That’s an order. You have a choice to make. Either join me and have purpose, or kill me and torch your life for no reason at all.”
Connor’s face twists in dismay, but slowly, the weapon lowers.
“What do you want me to do?” he asks softly.
There are shouts from the other room. I stride past my new employee and into the entry hall. Adriano stands there with six more Italian killers, all of them strapped and prepared for action, while my father’s guards lurk in the doorways and on the second floor.
Nobody’s shooting yet, which is good.
“Brother,” I greet Adriano and shake his hand.
“How are things here?”
“Oleg’s dead. I’m the new chief.”
Adriano’s smile is grim. “All hail the new chief then.”
I turn to face the remainder of my father’s guards. I can see the skepticism in their eyes, but they must’ve heard Connor’s shooting. They knew something bad just happened, only they don’t know what yet.
“My father is dead. He had a heart attack while working at his desk.” I stare at them, daring them to disagree. Nobody does. “I’m in control of the family now. Lower your weapons.”
“Why are the Italians here?” one man calls out.
“They’re insurance. They’re allies. If you all decide you want to make the wrong decision, my friends here will make sure you change your minds. Do you understand now?”
Slowly, my father’s former soldiers put away their guns.
Smart men know when it’s time to fight and when it’s time to bend the knee. And my father was always good at hiring smart men.
One by one, they come down and hail me as boss, chief, and leader. All the while, I’m backed by Adriano and his men, while Connor and Alex watch from the hallway.
“I want everything,” I tell them and grab Connor by the arm. “All my father’s documents. Everything worthwhile. And he’s going to make sure nothing’s forgotten.”
Connor stands a little straighter. “That’s right.”
“I want the house packed up in twenty minutes. Get moving.”
There’s silence. Then the first of my father’s former soldiers head back down the hall, and the rest of them behind moving.
No longer my father’s. Now they’re taking my orders. Which means they’re mine.
“You have this in hand,” Adriano says softly.
“I appreciate the backup.”
“Should we stay close?”
“For an hour until we’re done here. After that, I can handle it.”
“Good luck then.”
He leaves with his men in tow. Alex comes to me, and we stand together in the entryway while the house swarms with people grabbing anything that might be worth something or important. Documents, watches, jewelry. Some of them will pocket cash, but that’s fine. A worthwhile price to pay.
“How does it feel?” he asks.
“Honestly?” I take a deep breath and blow it back out. “Fucking fantastic .”