21. Over
Levka stared at the computer screen with a hand against his mouth. He kept studying Luerna’s movements as she entered the kitchen, getting her children breakfast. She moved calmly, stiffly, and clearly in pain. She put on a nice smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He glanced at his phone. The last text message he received from her was two days ago when she told him Rurik was back home. Now, the only thing he could do was wait for her to tell him it was safe to contact her.
But what if something was wrong?
It hit him too late when he had thought about her text. ‘Can we leave in ten days?’ It coincided with her brother’s departure.
Levka leaned back in his chair. If she shared anything about her situation, he wouldn’t be so clueless. He knew Rurik hit her on occasion. It was a hard pill he learned to swallow years ago when he was a young punk. Unable to help her, to get her free, had been the drive he used to become as rich and powerful as he was now. But what if it was gradually getting worse? What if she was in pain because of something Rurik had done, and Levka now had the power to intervene?
“Boss.” His cousin, Gleb, stood in the doorway. “The Utkins have been waiting for ten minutes.”
Levka waved a hand, but the man didn’t leave the doorway. Levka glared at him and firmly said, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Another ten seconds before Gleb conceded and left. Levka knew he was fucking up. Fedor Utkins was currently his boss, and making him wait could cause problems. But Levka could only focus on Luerna. She was a weakness, and it became evident in moments like this. But his empire held little importance compared to her.
Levka called an unsaved number. Luerna’s driver answered the phone in a hush, feared tone, and Levka didn’t waste time. “Where is she?”
“At home, sir. She isn’t allowed to leave.”
Levka ran a hand through his hair. Did Rurik find out about them? They were careless in their affection over the last few days, but Levka had paid the staff and knew where every camera was hidden. Rurik would have no proof, but would he need it? Could his jealousy be spurred by simple possibilities?
If Luerna was in danger, Levka could enact plan C. He bought a tank last year, a stupid and costly weapon he hid from his father. It had two missiles, one for the front gate and one for the front door. It was a last-ditch effort, the worst of all his plans, but when there was no more choice, he needed the power to rescue her.
“Have you seen her?”
“No, sir.”
Levka watched the screen. She left the kitchen. He hadn’t been able to put cameras anywhere else. Though she seemed okay aside from a slight stiffness, his gut told him something was wrong.
“Call me if you have any more information.” Levka tossed the phone. His leg bounced with anxiety. Something was wrong, but without proof, he couldn’t throw away his plans for a theory. He put too much effort into their escape plan. Four months was all he needed, but he wouldn’t make it if he couldn’t contact her.
Adrik’s warning replayed in his head. ‘If you are going to get rid of Rurik, you better be ready to replace him. Until then, Luerna stays where she is.’
Levka had responded with bitterness. “That’s the problem with you and your father. You see her as sacrificial.”
‘Our family is connected. As an only child, you wouldn’t be able to understand that. She makes sacrifices as we all do. I want my sister to be happy, don’t mistake me. But her happiness does not come before this family, and neither does mine. We are powerful because of what we give up, not because of what we have.’
‘That’s fucked up.’
‘That’s the mafia. Perhaps you’re in the wrong business.’
Levka hated him for saying it, even though he knew he was right. For the next four months, he would connect with three prominent families and have enough sway in Russia to rig elections. He couldn’t give the Morozovs the kind of power Rurik possessed, but he could give in other ways. It would stop Yakov from coming after him and hopefully allow him to pursue Luerna in public after Rurik gets disbarred from his position.
Levka got up from his chair, leaving the room. The only move he could concentrate on was finding a way to talk to her. He’d visit her at church. It was a risk, but one he had to take before he fucked up everything.
Luerna sat in the pew with Irina on her lap, barely hearing the sermon as tears built in the back of her eyes. The idea that a possible baby was developing in her womb destroyed any happiness, any hope for a better future, and any belief that things would get better. She wanted to burn her body, stab her gut, claw out any chance for life to start.
She looked up at the cross, asking God why He did this to her. Why couldn’t He leave her alone? Was she paying for her father’s sins? Was that how God worked?
Irina whispered in her ear, “I have to go potty.”
Luerna got up quietly, holding her daughter in her arms. Rurik glanced at her as if insulted by her departure in the middle of a sermon. But he turned his attention back to the preacher.
Luerna used to love the church when she was a child. It was magical here. She felt God in everything, but now she didn’t know if she believed He existed anymore.
She helped her daughter use the bathroom, speaking sweetly and encouragingly, and the little girl had many things to say. Luerna was startled when Levka was waiting against the bathroom sink.
Luerna initially ignored him, picking up her daughter to wash her hands. “Mama, it’s your friend.”
“Shh…Mama doesn’t have any friends,” Luerna whispered, drying her hands.
Levka didn’t like that. Her distance was a fucking black hole between them. He couldn’t feel anything from her. She was so good at being numb; her spirit was where emotions go to die. It sucked up everything in the room, and even Levka struggled to keep hold of his temper. “What’s going on, Luerna?”
“Nothing.”
Luerna went to step around him, and he gripped her arm. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”
Luerna took her phone from her purse and handed it to Irina before sitting her on the edge of the counter.
“That’s a new phone,” Levka noted. “What happened to your other one?”
“Rurik broke it.”
“Does he know?”
“He suspects.”
Levka ran a hand through his hair. If they left now, how far could they get? “Has he hurt you?”
“Just the normal amount,” she whispered with a shrug.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes kept on the floor, and she avoided him even as he stepped closer. Luerna couldn’t take his love right now. It would only waste its way back inside her, and she couldn’t let it. Rurik was more powerful. He had dominion over her and her children. There was no escape. Levka gripped her chin, but she pulled his hand away, feeling the tears already surfacing.
“Luerna, what?”
Swallowing harshly, she folded her arms over her chest, and with a heavy, tight breath, Luerna told him blankly, “He wants another baby.”
Levka’s expression nearly broke her, and she bowed her head. He clenched his teeth, a fist tapping against the wall. “He’s…” The idea of Rurik raping her smacked into him like a semi, and he almost lost his balance. The wave of nausea drowned him, and for several moments, he couldn’t speak, trying to keep the illness at bay. This was worse than ever before. This wasn’t bearable. And he couldn’t let her go through it again. They would have to leave.
Now.
Today.
He nodded, finding that conclusion the only viable outcome.
Until she said, “This is over. I can’t do this anymore.” Luerna stepped around him, but Levka stood in her path.
“Let’s go right now.”
She scoffed with a bitter laugh. “You’re insane. He’ll kill you.”
“He won’t do shit in the middle of church. You can take all your kids–”
“That kind of embarrassment–”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“This isn’t just my life, Levka. My children don’t deserve to be put in that kind of situation. How far would we get, huh? He has police on his side. He’ll find us. And if not him, then my father. This was a stupid game we were playing. And we’ve lost.”
Levka knit his brows. “It’s not a game to me. I’m in love with you, Luerna. You don’t know what I can do. Let me-”
“No!” She backed away, pissed at him. “You’re so naive. Rurik will destroy us.”
“Would you stop?” Levka snapped. “You are constantly full of excuses. You either want to be with me, or you don’t.”
“I do–”
“Then fight for me!”
“I’m trying. But Rurik–”
“I’ll protect you.”
“You can’t–”
Levka pounded his fist on the door. “Don’t you fucking dare think I can’t protect you. Yes, it’s going to be dangerous. Yes, it’s going to be scary. But hell, Luerna, I can’t keep going on like this. I have spent so much time thinking of what that fuck does to you that it is consuming me. I’m done sitting back. You will leave him, Luerna. You will fucking leave him.” Levka went for the door.
“Or what?”
He turned to her with outrage. “Or what? Or what? You want me to threaten you like he does? You want to smack you to make you compliant? There is no ‘ or what.’ You love me. I love you. I can protect you and all of the kids.” He pulled himself back, slapping a hand against his mouth to keep from yelling. The desperation was making him crazy; he knew it. Levka took a breath. He was scaring her. She stood against the wall, watching him, waiting for him to attack. He hated it. He didn’t deserve it. He had proven time and time again that he wasn’t like Rurik. But her actions only revealed something bigger than any monster. “You don’t want to go, do you?”
“It’s never been about what I want.”
Levka clenched his teeth, slipping his hands in his pockets. His disappointment met her stubborn gaze. Her lack of faith was almost as hurtful as her inability to fight for them. She was giving up before they even tried.
Levka struggled with anger. He wanted to understand her. He wanted to forgive her. But he put so much time and effort into their future and all she had to do was believe in him, and she couldn’t even do that.
I’m too late. It was numbing coming to that conclusion. But it was true. She would never get out, because she was too far gone.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Yep.” Any other words, and he’d break. He had shown her enough weakness that he couldn’t afford to expose any more. Especially when she was already one foot out the door. Every muscle fought him. He wanted to beg her, to plead for her to try, but he couldn’t keep coming to her with his heart in his hand. At some point, she was going to have to give a little. He was sacrificing so much and yet making such little progress. He was tired of fighting it. If she didn’t want him enough to leave her life, then there was nothing he could say.
Luerna could feel the ball of regret, the shame, the sorrow, but she took Irina up and put her on her hip. She clung to her daughter, an anchor, a reminder that no matter what he claimed, Levka couldn’t save them all. She stared at him. There was a shine to his eyes that made her miserable. She was putting his face to memory, even the stress lines and the aggravation on his brow. But he wasn’t a gladiator. He couldn’t fight a beast and come out of it alive. And she didn’t want him to die trying.
As long as he was alive, she could live in her dreams, imagining the one day she could run to him and he’d still be waiting.
As her hand gripped the door, Levka whispered, “The only person that can get you out is you, Luerna. Fight it.”
Her lip trembled, and she nodded before walking out, but there was nothing else to fight. It was over. And it was time to let go . Some people weren’t meant to be happy, and to get their ever afters. Some people die lonely and broken and full of regret. And as the eldest daughter of the Morozov Mafia, it seemed fitting for it to be her.
For the conclusion of Luerna’s story, please read book 3 of The Morozov Mafia Series, releasing June of 2026.