33. Soren
“ W e don’t have to do this,” Dima says, as he watches me fiddle with my tie.
I shake my head. “You know that’s a lie. Papa will hunt me down if I don’t show up.”
“Well, he’ll certainly zero in on the fact you’re trying to hide something if you don’t chill the fuck out,” he snaps. “Hold still.” He bats my hands away from my tie and straightens it. “There, let’s go.”
Silently, I follow Dima out of my apartment and down to his car. He’s right in that my father will know I’m hiding something from him, and he’ll make it his life’s mission to figure out what. Nikolai Petrov finding out about my boy is the last thing I need.
I trust Doc can look after himself—he wouldn’t have been able to stay with the Amatos for so long if not—and he has James, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to protect him from my family.
Dmitri drives us to my uncle’s estate and I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing nerves. I know how to face my family, but the stakes have never been higher. Now, I have something to protect from them, aside from myself.
“Thanks for doing this with me,” I say as Dima starts up the winding driveway of my uncle’s house.
“Of course. Who else would come? Nico?” he scoffs and it makes me chuckle.
“Vonny did okay last time, mainly because Papa refused to speak to him.”
I’d like to say my father isn’t usually a rude asshole, but that wouldn’t be true. Not that Donovan cared. He would have been content to pretend he was ignorant to the world around him, except my uncle and cousin didn’t have a problem drawing him into conversation.
The only reason he didn’t get voluntold to come this time is because he already had plans with his study group. And Dominic can never come with me unless he wants to break his own heart, since my cousin David is his ex-boyfriend.
That left Dmitri. I know he doesn’t mind, and it’s nothing I wouldn’t do for any of them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty for taking up his evening.
When we’re out of the car, I straighten out my suit jacket and take a deep breath. Dima sidles up to me and links our arms together. “Into the firing squad we go,” he says cheerfully, pulling me up the steps.
I snort but allow him to escort me to the front door, which is opened by one of my uncle’s staff members.
So much of this is reminiscent of my first interview with Cristian Amato, and I smile to myself, because I knew that day was going to change my life, I just didn’t know how much until recently.
David meets us in the foyer, his grin is bright and the hug he gives me is tight, as if we haven’t seen each other in years rather than months.
“Good to see you, Sory.”
“You too, Davidik.” I lower my voice. “How is he?”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “You know Uncle Nisha, he’s more bluster than anything. But come, it is best not to keep them waiting. Besides, dinner is almost ready.”
“Great.”
Dima and I let David lead us further into the house, towards my uncle’s study, where he and my father are waiting.
“Papa, look who I found loitering outside,” David says with a grin.
My uncle stands and I bow my head because, though I’m no longer part of his Bratva, manners were drilled into me from a young age.
“Come here, Sory,” Uncle Ivan says.
I meet his dark eyes and smile when he does, stepping forward to hug him.
“How are you doing, my boy?” he asks quietly in my ear.
“I am well, Dyadya, and you?”
“Good, good. I've been busy with the new club opening, and sourcing a new supplier, but all in a day’s work, you know. I hope Cristian and his Family are treating you well?”
“They are, I’m very happy there.”
“Excellent, I knew you would fit in.”
Uncle Ivan releases me and turns to Dima. “And it’s a pleasure to have a Novikov in my home as well.”
“Yes, sir. I’m happy to be escorting, Soren,” Dima says, head still bowed respectfully.
Uncle Ivan waves him off. “Enough with the pleasantries. Look at me and tell me which one you are, you know I can never tell. I don’t know how Mak and Kira keep you three straight.”
Dima smiles. “They do not, sir. I am Dmitri.”
“Ah, yes, my aspiring bodyguard.” Uncle Ivan winks. “I hope your training is going well?”
Nothing shows on Dmitri’s face, and his voice is perfectly neutral when he responds, but I know how sore the subject is. “I am learning a lot, sir. You have highly trained men on your payroll.”
Trusting Dima can take care of himself, and unable to put it off any longer, I turn to my father. “Papa,” I greet him, with a respectful nod of my head. “It’s nice to see you again.”
My father has the same bright blue eyes as I do, but like my uncle and cousin, his hair is as dark as coal. His features are harsh, and only seem to grow darker as he takes me in.
When he meets my eyes, they seem to glow with his displeasure. “Sory,” he says. “Did I not tell you to not make me wait before we saw each other?”
I manage to hold back my wince, but make sure to put as much apology in my tone as I can. “I am sorry, Papa. Things have been all over the place with work. It’s been all hands on deck, and I’ve barely had time to sleep. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”
He stares at me for a long moment, assessing my words, before snorting. “Come here then, let me look at you properly.”
Crossing the room, I allow him to hug me briefly, before he steps back and studies my appearance more closely. It’s hard not to squirm under his assessing gaze. I’m all too aware of the fact I don’t measure up to his standards.
My father, uncle, and cousin are all well-built, tall men. Each over six-foot two, they wear their strength with pride, and no one ever questions how intimidating they are as they have the size to back it up.
I, on the other hand, don’t look anything like any of them. Apart from our eye color, my father and I don’t have a feature in common. My light blond hair and delicate features all come from my mother. Though my height is all my own, as my mother is a tall woman at five-eleven.
My slim build and five-six stature has always grated on my father, who, despite my uncle working diligently to try to fix the narrow-minded view of the Bratva, has always had a clear cut idea of what it means to be a man.
Though he learned from being with my mother how to not be so misogynistic, he still has very closed-minded, toxic masculinity ideals about the world. It’s one of the many, many reasons I haven’t come out to him, and I don’t plan to anytime soon.
The part of me that is falling for Doc aches, as I want to share the amazing man I’ve found with my family, but the part that grew up under Nikolai Petrov and the Bratva knows better.
There’s a reason the Amatos are a better fit; there, the two sides of me aren’t at war. I can live and love, and trust that I’m safe to do so openly.
“You look well, Sory.”
“I feel good, Papa. You’re doing well, too, da?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Nothing ails me but old age.” He laughs and I chuckle along.
“You’re not old, Papa. I’m convinced you’re going to live forever.”
He scoffs. “Flattery won’t make me forget you kept me waiting, boy.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. The Amatos needed me. I couldn’t very well abandon them when I was most needed. What was I to say? ‘Oh, sorry, I can’t come in tonight, I know very bad things are happening, but I need to take a personal day’. How would that have looked?” I meet his gaze head on, knowing better than to show any sort of weakness.
“I enjoy my job, Papa. I would hate to lose it because I pissed them off this early on.”
He scowls. “You are a Petrov, family comes first. Amato should know that.”
I nod. “And he does. The Boss is very family oriented, but I am not Bratva,” I remind him. “I never was, so it’s different.”
He grunts, but some of the ire in his eyes dies, and I allow myself to relax a bit. “You are a good man, loyal, and I hope they appreciate that.”
I smile at him. “I learned from the best, Papa.” The words taste like ash on my tongue, because everyone in the room is distinctly aware I learned nothing from this man except the kind of person I don’t want to be. But sometimes, lies are kinder than the truth.