Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Kolya
“I’m saying you should take up the brigadier position. You can spend more time with Chloe and the little one,” Rurik told me.
“I don’t like managing people.”
“But we need balance, comrade. Kirill is the pakhan. We need to re-establish the triumvirate.”
“Because that worked out so well before.”
“Your cousin got greedy.”
I couldn’t deny that part. “Grigori’s failed attempt to usurp the pakhan position from Kirill fractured the triumvirate. Maybe that’s a sign. How do you know I won’t do the same?”
“Because you don’t want it in the first place.”
“And you?”
“We see the bratva as a whole, Kolya. We like what’s best for the organization. Kirill will lead, but he needs to delegate.” He glanced at Kirill, who was in conversation with Theo and Maksim. “Pakhan needs to step back and manage.”
“He enjoys the kill too much.” The only reason I would step back and take the brigadier position was because my desire to be more present in my son’s life was infinitely more appealing than the job. It wasn’t the desire to lead, but the desire to build a securer environment for my family.
Rurik grinned slyly. “And that’s why I have no aspirations for pakhan. I like my little kingdom of real estate and finance. I told Kirill I could convince you.”
I chuckled darkly and craned my neck to look for Chloe. She’d been gone a while. “You haven’t yet.”
I spotted her in the dimly lit hallway. Or rather, I made out her form, but not her features. But what had my hackles rising was that she was talking to a man whose outline I recognized but couldn’t quite believe I was seeing. I squinted. “Who the fuck is that?”
Rurik glanced in the direction I was staring. “Dimitri? Uh-oh, he said he wanted to surprise you and told me not to tell anyone—”
I would deal with his explanation later because I was stalking toward my cousin to expel him from Chloe’s presence.
I scowled at Kirill briefly when he turned from his conversation to look where I was heading.
Actually, everyone ceased talking because I was sure I bore a murderous expression no one had witnessed before.
I wished I had my machete, which hadn’t been strapped on my back ever since I moved in with Chloe and Sebastian.
My bare fists would do.
Chloe’s arms were crossed, hands hugging opposing biceps, making herself smaller. She and Dimitri were approaching slowly.
“Dimitri,” I growled.
Chloe’s head shot up; I could see her eyes freezing in horror when she saw me. But I was too furious to analyze if her fear was for me or for the man beside her.
“Kolya, it’s okay—” She tried to intercept me, flinging her arms out to stop my body from barreling into Dima.
No, it was not. None of this was okay.
I grabbed Dimitri by the throat. My cousin didn’t even put up a fight. But the smirk on his face amplified my anger.
I slammed him against the wall. “Don’t breathe her air, mudak!”
“You’re,” he choked out, turning purple. “Cutting off mine.”
Somewhere, breaking through the dark tunnel of my fury, Kirill asked, “What’s he doing here?”
I glared over my shoulder. “Ask Rurik.”
Maksim clasped my biceps. “Don’t kill him. Yet.”
Despite being choked to death, Dimitri managed a gust of humor, only angering me further.
“Kolya, it’s okay,” Chloe said. “He was just curious about me.” She pulled my arm. “Let him go. Don’t ruin tonight.”
I slackened my fingers.
“Please,” she whispered.
Against every instinct screaming at me, I released him and stepped back.
Dima wheezed and bent over, but the fucker had the audacity to laugh. “Damn, cousin, you’ve changed.” He straightened and eyed me mockingly through bloodshot eyes caused by my attempted strangulation, my fingermarks red on his throat. “You pussy-whipped or something?”
Several people gasped behind me, but one of them sounded like Irina.
The edges of my vision hazed black again.
And I was seeing Dima’s mocking face through a narrow lens.
Voices receded. My hand itched to reach for the holstered gun in my shoulder harness.
I didn’t know how long I stood there seething, but the next thing I knew he was tossed against the wall, my right fist throbbed, and my face was inches from his.
Kirill inserted himself between us. “Enough. We’ll deal with your cousin later.”
“Nothing to see here, folks,” Ivan boomed. “Just boys being boys.”
“Dinner is almost ready.” Irina’s calming voice followed Ivan’s edict, as if this was a usual occurrence at these gatherings, and it was.
When the bratva got together, expect scores to be settled with fists, if not a few bullet holes.
The pakhan allowed this to a degree. Except it was an unusual bratva party because it was to welcome Theo into the family.
Fuck. I should apologize to Aralina later. No, I probably wouldn’t, but what was more likely was Aralina demanding one from me, and I always humored her. Judging from the way King was treating his fiancée, he was in for a surprise if he thought he was marrying a docile woman.
“Entertainment’s over,” Lucy announced. Clapping and laughter followed. “Let’s get back to the party, right? Is anyone hungry?”
“We need vodka!” someone shouted.
“You picked well, Zahkarov.” Dima grinned at Kirill. “Your wife—”
Kirill grabbed his collar. “Don’t even talk about my wife, or you can start shoveling your grave in Irina’s rose garden.”
“Oh God,” Chloe mumbled beside me.
“Christ, what happened to them?” Dima was addressing Rurik. My protectiveness over Chloe and Kirill’s touchiness when it came to Lucy surprised him.
“You snuck this bastard in?” I snapped at him.
Rurik, as brigadier, did not outrank me. I operated independently and reported directly to the pakhan. No one except Kirill gave me orders, and sometimes even I defied them.
But it was Maksim who confronted me while Kirill was trying to keep me from murdering Dimitri. These Zahkarov brothers. When did they get along?
“Would you dial it down,” Maks said quietly, harshly. “We’re already spooking Theo, and with the wedding this weekend—”
“I got this.” Chloe claimed my arm and hooked our elbows together. “There will be no fighting, dammit.”
I raised a brow at her vehemence.
She dragged me away. “This party is for Theo and Aralina. Let’s not make it about us.”
“What did Dimitri say to you?” I was still vibrating with an aggression I had trouble reeling in because it did not gain the satisfaction of a release.
“Nothing much until you stormed over like he had a gun pointed at my head.”
“You have no idea who he is, Chloe, or what he can do.”
“The eyes gave it away. I figured he’s like you, so you can’t say I had no experience.”
We entered a function room where the Zahkarovs held events like this. Chloe paused our conversation to take in the area. Shades of gold and pink decorated the space.
“Oh wow, this could be the wedding right here.”
“I wish,” I muttered. “Then this could be over with and you’d consider my proposal.”
“Oh, did you propose?”
“That’s sass, right?” I led her to a corner and clasped her shoulder to face me. “You’re sassing me.”
“‘You’re marrying me, princess’ is hardly a proposal,” she retorted.
“You want a ring?”
She glared at me. “Figure it out yourself, Petrov.”
She knocked my hands from her shoulders and stomped off to join Lucy and Aralina.
I hissed out a frustrated breath. It was hilarious when it was Kirill floundering.
But Lucy was already his wife at that time.
I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to make Chloe see she was mine without putting on an act.
I wasn’t a man of flowery words. Protection equals love.
Love. What was it that Aralina said about love languages? Shit. I couldn’t recall a single thing.
“Looks like you need a drink.” Rurik handed me a glass of vodka.
“What the fuck were you playing at, Sokolov?” I grabbed the glass and downed the vodka.
It went down smoothly and restored a semblance of calm to my nerves.
A Petrov did not lose control. Dima didn’t.
Faced with my fury and with my fingers strangling the life out of him, he still had the audacity to mock me.
I was the aggressor, but it exposed my weak underbelly.
Chloe.
She and Sebastian were my weakness. And that was why I was desperate to cement a fort around them by all means necessary.
“Dimitri is your cousin. He comes and goes in this bratva.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
I chuckled darkly. “If I believe you’re capable of coming to such an idiotic conclusion, I would have taken you out long ago. You’re not a foot soldier. You know what’s going on. You’re forcing me to take on the brigadier position.”
“Oh, how so?”
“You want more Petrovs in the bratva. If you think I want Dima working under me, then that’s where you’re wrong.”
Rurik sipped his vodka. “A brigadier can’t be new blood, but do you think he can be an enforcer? Surely Kirill would welcome Dima.”
“He’d rather give that position to Sato.”
“Sato temporarily filled that position when you were in prison. I was thinking Sato is better to fill the third brigadier position. He has Japanese blood running through his veins. He might make a good alliance with the Yakuza.”
“Haven’t you been busy?” I drawled, feeling much calmer. “How about you, Rurik? You’ve been a widower for a while. You can marry.”
“I do not recommend marriage for someone like me. I will, however, leave that institution to my sons.”
His sons were teenagers and hotheads. I didn’t envy him. “Where’s Dima, anyway?”
Rurik gave a careless wave of his hand. “Kirill and Sato took him somewhere. Don’t worry, they won’t kill him.”
At that moment, Chloe glanced at me and jerked her head, calling me over.
“Thanks for the drink.” I deposited the glass on a corner table.
“Anytime.”
Dimitri was sporting a bruise around his right eye, and he had a busted lip.
It was courtesy to let the pakhan know if you crossed into his jurisdiction.
Normally, I’d be the one to deliver the pain, but Kirill figured with my temper earlier, I might put Dima in a coma.
After Kirill, Dima was like a brother to me, more than a cousin.
We belonged to different factions of the Russian mafia.
And as if nothing had happened, he had Sebastian cooing on his lap.
Chloe was sitting with Theo and Aralina at a table with Lucy, Ivan, Irina, and Maksim. Dinner was over, dessert was served, and some guests had left. Kirill was in a corner talking to Rurik, although they’d cast glances my way a few times, making sure my cousin and I wouldn’t kill each other.
That was probably why Chloe handed Sebastian to us so that we would behave. It gratified me to an extent that she entrusted Sebastian’s safety to me, even with Dimitri around. So she was being honest when she said she hadn’t been afraid of my cousin earlier.
“Strong boy, kuzen.” Sebastian was gripping Dima’s finger. “We have good genes.”
“Genes that get us into trouble.”
“You know your problem? You’re trying to reject who we are.”
Dima stood and bounced Sebastian up and down. My boy giggled.
“Careful, or he’ll throw up on you.” It would be hilarious if Sebastian vomited on him, but I didn’t want my boy to have an upset tummy.
Dima paused and then handed Sebastian to me as if he were virus-infected. I rolled my eyes. “You talk about genetics, but you don’t understand the responsibility that comes with it.”
“Oh, and you think you do?”
“Why are you really here, Dima? You want to jump bratva?”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Stop bullshitting and tell me why you’re here.”
He stared at Sebastian, then he rubbed his jaw and glanced at Chloe. “I have a message for you.”
“From whom?”
“Our common friend or enemy, depending on how you look at it. It’s cryptic. She doesn’t want to betray the Vozhokari, but she’s hoping I will try again.”
“The woman who miscarried your child?”
Dima dropped his eyes and reached into his pocket to hand me a note. “I met her somewhere, and she passed me this note.”
“Couldn’t she have texted you?” I accepted the note that was written on a bar napkin.
The present lives in the past.
When fire consumes rain and silt.
Remnants of a scarred heart and fractured bones are reborn.
Into a shadow that lurks until the moment of revenge.
“What the fuck is this?” I asked, confused.
“Da—sorry,” Dima said. “She loves poetry—what? It’s useful, you know, just in case you like to talk in code.”
“I don’t speak poetry,” I muttered.
Dima snorted, taking a sip of wine. “Even an eight-year-old can decipher this, and she wrote it in English just in case you need Chloe’s help. The perpetrator wants revenge against you and Chloe.”
“We have a suspect. Marena Rodriguez. We’ve connected her to several baby disappearance cases. Could the Vozhokari have expanded their business to kidnapping?” Then my jaw unhinged as a more sinister conclusion formed. “Or is she selling them babies to turn into assassins?”
“But it mentions revenge. Revenge against whom?” Dima asked.
“Many Vozhokari are unhappy with me. I’ve killed several of their assassins. If it’s Chloe, then it’s related to Esther King. She’s hired them—fuck,” I cursed softly. The one who got away.
I stared at the paper again.
The present lives in the past. This was about the past.
Where fire consumes rain and silt.
Chills raised the hair on the back of my neck and spread through my arms.
The assassins who were after Chloe and her mother.
That night it was raining. The first one—I shot and killed and ran over the body.
But the other one I had to use my pickup and force the motorcycle off the road.
It went over the guardrails and crashed into a stone quarry and exploded.
I didn’t get the chance to confirm the kill because I heard sirens in the distance and left the scene.
The news reported one dead, but with the burned-out motorcycle—no body was found.
The bratva had to pay for interfering, but it was a price Ivan was prepared to accept. I had no problem killing Vozhokari to protect innocent lives.
“You know who it is?”
“I have a strong hunch.” My eyes met Dimitri’s. “I have a favor to ask.”