Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
LEO
When Alyona’s breathing steadies, her body soft in sleep, I ease out of bed.
It’s just after midnight, Papa will be awake, and I know exactly where to find him.
I move quietly through the halls, having rehearsed this conversation in my mind over and over.
He won’t be happy, but my decision is firm. There’s no doubt or second thoughts.
Alyona is all I’ll ever want and need. She showed me there was another way. That I can create my own destiny. That I can live in the light. She believes in me, believes I am capable of so much more, and I will prove her right. I’ll make us a life beyond the brotherhood, with her by my side.
The dim light under Papa’s office door tells me he’s still working, the life of a pakhan is a 24/7 gig.
Not that he minds. Papa is the Kozlov Bratva.
It wasn’t a legacy passed down to him, it was a legacy he created, that he fought for.
Hell, he moved continents knowing his business could only thrive on American soil since the bratva in Russia was too entrenched to make room for an upstart like him.
But leading a bratva to greatness is his dream, not mine. I knock softly. The shuffling of papers on the other side of the door ceases. “Enter,” Papa’s booming voice rings out.
My father sits behind his grand mahogany desk, a king perched on the throne.
There’s not a computer in sight. Papa doesn’t believe in electronics to run a business, not an illegal one at least, he’s a gentlemen’s handshake kind of guy.
What good is a contract when a bullet can drive the point home much more effectively?
“What is it, son?” Papa asks, lowering his bifocals down his nose.
“We need to talk. It’s important. It can’t wait until morning.”
“Very well.” He gestures to the seat across from him, and I sit. Abandoning his glasses on the desk, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “What is it?”
The confidence I’d felt earlier is a little shakier now. “It’s about Alyona. Alyona and me.” I take a moment, debating how to tell him. But with my father it’s best to be direct. “We’re together, Papa.”
He raises his eyebrows, not in surprise, but in confirmation. “I know,” he finally says.
“You know?”
“I know everything that happens in this house, Leonid. Why would you think differently?” His face turns stony, an unsettling stillness settles around us.
There’s a cruel edge to Papa. I’ve always known it—the terrifying way he’d yell at my mother when they fought, or the way he’d punish soldiers when they disobeyed him. But I’ve never had it directed at me. Not like this.
Until now.
I do my best not to flinch under his scrutinizing glare, because my father can smell weakness from a hundred miles away, and he detests it.
So I harden my resolve, and press on. “Ever since Kiril was killed, Alyona’s chosen to distance herself from the bratva.
This life is not for her. She’s accepted Yulian’s choice, of course, but she doesn’t want it for herself, or for the man she is going to spend her life with. ”
My father picks up a small clock on his desk, polishing it with a handkerchief from his pocket. “I don’t care what Alyona does. She’s useless to this family.”
I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants, trying to find the right words. “I love her, Papa. I’ve probably always loved Alyona, but we’ve become close this summer. She’s the woman I want to be with for the rest of my life. I know I’m young, but I’m clear about what I want.”
The sneer on my father’s lip is the only indication that he’s heard me. He continues to polish his timepiece, not even sparing me a glance. “What are you saying? That you don’t want to be a vor?”
I shake my head slowly. “You know I have a good mind for computers and technology. There are things I can do. Ways I can help the family without being sworn in as a—”
The sound of shattering glass drowns out my words, and the once-elegant clock now lays in splinters on the wooden floor.
“You would shame yourself like that? Shame our family?” His words are low and venomous.
I almost wish he was screaming, because somehow this is worse.
But I won’t be bullied by him. Not for something as important as this.
“There is no shame when it’s a choice. You have Andrei and Daniil, even Yulian. I’ll still be here, the only difference is I won’t have my stars.”
Rising to his feet, my father rests his two hands on his desk and leans forward.
He’s not overly tall—I have a few inches on him—but he’s a former boxer, built wide and sturdy and he knows how to use his size to intimidate.
“I tolerated your dalliance with Alyona. You were meant to fuck her out your system and move on with your life. The life you are destined for, by your brothers’ sides.
Not as a pathetic subcontractor that plays with computers all day.
” His next words leave his lips on a snarl. “I won’t have it.”
Determined to hold my ground, I rise and unflinchingly meet his vicious glare. “I’m sorry you see it that way, but I don’t need your blessing. I’ve made my decision. Even if I don’t have your support, I stand by my choice.”
The slow grin that builds on my father’s face is unsettling. “And what about sweet, innocent Alyona? Do you think your decision doesn’t affect her?”
Fuck, why does my father have to look so smug right now? Like he’s holding all the winning cards. “Of course, it does. We made this decision together. It may not be the easiest path, but this is what we both want. It’s our choice.”
“You keep on talking about choice. ‘My choice, my freedom,’” he mocks in a whiny tone.
“You sound like a bloody American brat.” His eyes sharpen into slits.
“Since Kiril passed, I’ve made sure Alyona wants for nothing, I’ve treated her like my own.
I arranged for her schooling and brought her into my home.
I have a team of doctors and nurses looking after her mother under my roof.
” Terror skitters down my spine. My father is not just making idle chitchat, he’s going somewhere with this, and I have a feeling I won’t like it.
“Leave her out of it, Papa,” I threaten between clenched teeth.
“How can I do that? This is all because of her. You are days away from being sworn in as a vor, and now some stupid bitch is going to come in here and ruin the future you were destined for? I don’t think so, Leonid.
” His lips curl with disdain. “If you reject your stars, I’ll have Alyona killed in the ugliest way possible.
I will give her to my men, and after they pass her around, I will strangle her with my own two hands, then run her organs through a meat grinder before feeding her to the dogs. ”
Bile fills my mouth, and the room spins. “No. No!” I yell uselessly. “How could you? You said it yourself, she’s like a daughter to you.”
“But she’s not my daughter, is she? And she’s threatening to take away my son, to strip him of his honor. The honor of a Kozlov. I won’t have it!” he yells, slamming his hands down on the desk so hard it reverberates through the room.
“How dare you! How fucking dare you!?” I come at him, but I’m too worked up, emotion robbing me of my aim and precision. The punch he lands on my jaw is swift and brutal. I hold my face as blood pools in the corner of my mouth. “How could you do this? To your own flesh and blood? To Aly?”
“One day, when you’re a father, you’ll understand.
” But I’ll never be like him, I’ll never be dead inside.
I’ll never be a cold shell of a human. “You leave me no choice, Leonid. I won’t have the family legacy sullied by the stupid caprices of a twenty-one-year-old boy who’s seen nothing of this world.
Knows nothing about life. You think love is enough, but one day you’ll learn that love is not forever.
The brotherhood is forever. Honor is forever.
” He beats his chest to punctuate every word.
“But Alyona, she will move on. And what will you have then? You’ll be a glorified IT specialist for your brothers with nothing else to show for it. Shameful!”
I wipe the blood from my mouth and spit on the floor.
“Just because Mama grew to hate you, doesn’t mean that will happen with Alyona.
You drove Mama into your enemy’s arms—she was desperate for a scrap of warmth and affection.
You are the reason she turned cold. You are responsible for her suicide.
I hope it haunts you every night for the rest of your life. ”
If I wasn’t in such a state, I would have anticipated the punch, but I don’t. I just feel the snap of his gold ring as his fist connects with my temple. The thud of my head on the floor. My vision swims as a gray cloud grows at the edges, moving outward.
And I hear his final words to me. “Choose wisely, son. Choose wisely.”
I drive around in the dark for a long time. My head still throbs like a motherfucker, but I’d take that pain over the pain in my chest, because that doesn’t just throb, that feels like I’m being ripped open from the inside out.
Two hours on the bike hasn’t brought me any more clarity.
The only thing that seems clear to me is that I am screwed no matter what I choose to do.
I pull off the main highway, driving over mottled leaves and overgrown greenery and pull up in front of a little abandoned fishing hut.
Not sure when or how I first found this place, but every once in a while, I find myself back here.
It’s a shack, not much in terms of shelter, but it’s on the water, and it feels far from civilization.
No one can find me here unless I want them to.