Chapter 13 - Maksim #2
“Enough.” Aleksei’s voice cuts through our bickering. “The point is, she’s important to you, which makes her important to us. We need to know what we’re dealing with so we can plan accordingly.”
I drag a hand through my hair as I weigh my options. These men have earned the right to know what threatens our family. But Alyssa’s story isn’t mine to tell, and she’s made it clear she values her privacy. Still, I have to give them something.
“Her ex-boyfriend works for the Serpents. Mid-level guy, nothing special, but he’s been stalking her for weeks. When I stepped in to help, it became personal for Vincent Moreau.”
“Moreau’s the one calling the shots?” Dmitri asks.
“According to our friend from last night, yes. He’s using this as an excuse to move against us, eliminate competition, and settle a personal score. They’re the ones who put the bodies in our shipping containers.”
“And the woman? What’s her background?”
“Clean. College graduate, no criminal connections, and no family money. She got involved with the wrong guy and paid the price for it.”
“How wrong?” Nikolai presses.
“Wrong enough that she spent three weeks running scared before I found her.”
“Found her where?”
I tell them about the club, about Alyssa’s mysterious disappearance that night, and tracking her down in the alley behind that coffee shop. I don’t mention the details of her childhood or the specific nature of Troy’s harassment. Some things are too personal to share, even with family.
“So she’s been living here,” Aleksei summarizes when I finish. “Under your protection, in your house, for how long now?”
“About a week.”
“And in that time, the Serpents have escalated from surveillance to attempted murder.”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“Then she stays. No question. Anyone who targets our family gets dealt with, and anyone under our protection stays protected.”
I glance toward the stairwell where Alyssa disappeared. “I don’t think she sees it that way.”
“Then we change her mind.” He stands and brushes invisible lint from his suit jacket. “Bring her to dinner on Sunday. It’s time she understood that this family takes care of its own.”
“She’s not going to agree to that,” I reply with a chuckle.
“She will if you ask her properly.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll have to reconsider our approach.” The threat in his voice is subtle but unmistakable. “But I don’t think it will come to that. From what I’ve seen, she cares about you more than she’s willing to admit.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because she’s still here. If she really wanted to run, nothing would have stopped her by now. She never would’ve come back here.”
My brothers begin filing out, each one offering some variation of encouragement or advice as they head for the door. Akim lingers behind long enough to tell me, “For what it’s worth, I like her. She’s got spine.”
“Thanks for the endorsement.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Maksim. Women like that don’t come along often.”
“I know.”
The front door closes behind him with a finality that sounds through the empty foyer. I stand there for several minutes, listening to the silence and wondering how I’m going to convince Alyssa that my family isn’t a threat to her independence.
Time to find out.
I climb the stairs to her room, steeling myself for another round of her walls and defenses. The door is slightly ajar, and I can hear her moving around inside, probably packing again.
“Alyssa?” I knock softly on the doorframe. “Can we talk?”
“Come in.”
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap like a schoolgirl waiting for detention.
“How did that go?” she asks without looking up.
“About as well as could be expected. They want to meet you properly.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sunday dinner. Family tradition. The wives will be there. Very civilized, very normal.”
“Normal.” She lets out a laugh that lacks any humor. “Right. Because sitting down to pot roast with the Russian mafia is the definition of normal.”
“They’re not the Russian mafia. We’re Bratva, and there’s a difference.”
She tilts her head at me as she asks, “Is there?”
“To us, yes. We don’t just take what we want and damn the consequences. We have rules, codes of conduct. Family comes first, always, but we don’t hurt innocents.”
“Unless they get in your way.”
“You’re not in our way, Alyssa. You’re family now, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not family. I’m a problem you picked up at a nightclub.”
“You’re the woman I’m falling for.”
The words surprise us both. I didn’t plan to say them, considering I haven’t even admitted the truth to myself until this moment. But watching her pull away from me, watching her dismiss what we have as meaningless, forces the confession out of me.
“Maksim…”
“Come to dinner. Meet the people who matter to me. Let them see what I see when I look at you.”
“And what’s that?”
“Someone worth fighting for.”
She studies my face for a long moment, searching for something I hope she finds. Finally, she nods once.
“Okay. I’ll come to dinner.”