Chapter Fifteen Maksim
As I stared down at the gaping wound in my father’s forehead, a myriad of emotions ricocheted through me. There were the expected feelings of relief and gratitude and bitterness and loathing.
But there were also surprising ones. Like sadness and regret.
After everything I’d been through with him, I couldn’t fathom actually mourning his death.
As his glazed eyes stared up at me, I hated that even in death, he held power over me.
For thirty years, he’d tormented me and my siblings.
He’d taken away the only true mother I’d ever known when he killed Irina.
I should’ve had nothing but hate in my heart.
Yet I didn’t.
Fuck. I regretted that I arrived too late to see him killed. I would always hate that I didn’t get to look him in the eye in his last moments. To see what I hoped was the flicker of fear in his eyes. Or the rage that his life was being cut short by one of his own children.
Glancing over to the couch, I eyed Mila. With an empty glass of Father’s expensive vodka, she stared straight ahead. Dima and I spent a lot of time on the plan to take Father out. When he’d not only suggested involving Mila, but having her pull the trigger, I never expected her to really do it.
But I’d completely underestimated my sister’s strength and resolve.
From the expression on her face, she was dealing with the same emotional fallout I was. After closing the gap between us, I bent down beside her.
When I took the empty glass from her, she jerked her gaze to mine. With a gentle smile, I brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “Ty v poryadke, zaychik?” I asked.
Since childhood, Mila’s nickname had been zaychik, or bunny, after her once buck teeth. I hadn’t asked her in Russian to be secretive. It just felt right in the moment.
“I’m fine.” When I cocked my brows at her, she sighed. “I’m a fucking mess.”
I cupped her cheek with my hand. “D-Dima p-put too much on you.”
Mila shook her head furiously back and forth. “After everything Father did to me and to Kellan, I deserved to be the one who shot him.”
“He wasn’t Father of the Year to me either,” I mused.
A smile curved on her lips. “Are we going to get in a pissing contest now about who deserved to pull the trigger?”
“Fuck yeah. The man d-denied me of my b-birthright,” I said with a laugh.
A snort came from Dima who sat across from us. “Yeah, well, he tried to take mine away after I was almost paralyzed in a shooting he ordered me to do.”
“Only b-because he’d t-taken my b-birthright,” I repeated.
“Seriously, guys? The man drew me out on the pretense that Kira was in the hospital, so he could kill me.”
“Technically, that was part of our plan,” Dima argued.
“Maybe I need to remind you how he almost choked me to death while you were in a coma,” Mila challenged.
With an exaggerated roll of my eyes, I replied, “Fine. Make it about you.”
Mila smacked me playfully. “I think that’s only fair considering the man has loathed my very existence since I was twelve.”
“You’re right,” I said softly, to which Dima agreed.
With a wicked grin, Mila said, “If I had it to do over again, I would’ve suggested we torture him for a little while.”
Dima and I laughed. “We needed the change of power to happen quickly,” Dima reasoned.
She sighed. “I know. I just would’ve enjoyed kicking the shit out of him.”
“Same,” I mused.
When she moved to stand up, I rose to my feet. “Where are you g-going?”
“I need to call Kellan and let him know I’m all right.”
I threw a glance at Dima to gauge his reaction.
Even though he’d brought it upon himself for following Father’s request, bad blood remained for him about Kellan.
At the same time, Mila held her own grudge against Dima since he’d not only overseen Kellan’s horrific beating at the hands of Father’s men, but had taken a part.
Dima claimed he participated to keep Father believing in his allegiance since he and I were working together to overthrow him at that time.
Like Mila, I didn’t buy it. No one was ever going to be good enough for Mila in his eyes, least of all someone from an enemy family like Kellan was.
His injury caused his bitterness at both Kellan and Mila to get the better of him.
To my surprise, Dima nodded at her. “Tell him to call off the cavalry.”
“Excuse me?” Mila questioned.
Dima chuckled. “I have the feeling the Kavanaugh brigade is going to descend on us shortly to rescue you.”
Mila’s face lit up like the sun. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
Tilting her head at Dima, Mila asked, “Is it safe for him to come here?”
At Dima’s hesitation, I said, “Yes. We are no longer a t-threat to t-the Kavanaughs.”
“Thank you, Maks.” Sweeping her hands to her hips, Mila focused on Dima. “Do you agree, brat?”
With an agonized sigh, Dima replied, “Yeah, I do.”
Once again, Mila’s face lit up. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Taking her phone out of her pocket, she then exited Father’s study. After grunting, Dima threw back the rest of his vodka. “She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her,” I said softly.
“I know that.”
“Then b-be happy for her.”
Dima jerked a hand through his blond hair. “I’m fucking trying, okay?”
“He risked his life for her more than once.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” he grumbled.
“Look on the bright side. Mila’s marriage ensures our alliance with the Kavanaughs.”
He scowled. “Now you have her marrying the Irish bastard now?”
I chuckled. “I d-don’t see t-them ending any other way.”
Dima rubbed his eyes. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Fine.”
“Speaking of calling people, you need to contact your mother.”
With a contemptuous snort, I walked over to the bar. “So she can p-play at b-being the grieving widow?”
“Exactly.”
“Lucky me,” I replied as I poured a tumbler of vodka. As I eyed the bottle, I mused, “I probably should down the rest of this considering that I have to call my mother and Deduskha as well.”
Dima groaned. “Fuck man, I don’t envy you for that.”
I grinned around the mouth of my glass. “Deduskha is going to lose his shit when I tell him.”
“Just assure him that we’ll honor all the plans he had for you.” Dima wagged his brows. “I’m just part of them now.”
“Yeah, I d-don’t t-think he’ll appreciate that.”
Frowning, Dima asked, “He won’t do anything stupid, will he?”
“He’s t-too old,” I reasoned.
With a snort, Dima replied, “Remember what Father used to say? Never underestimate anyone too young or too old.”
“Yeah, well, in this case, he’s wrong. Not only has he t-thrown all his support at me, b-but he’s called in all his favors. He would b-be screwed if he b-backed out now.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“T-Trust me.” After throwing back the contents of my glass, I gave him a wicked smile. “And if he makes t-too much noise, we’ll t-take care of him.”
Dima gave a low whistle. “Easy, cowboy. Let’s get through the patricide first before we start branching out in the family tree.”
I laughed. “When will we meet with the men?”
“As soon as we can call them all together. I’m sure news of Father’s death will travel fast, so we should have a time and meeting place ironed out for the next couple of days.”
Nodding, I poured another glass of vodka. Even if I worked night and day with Sarah, it wouldn’t give me enough time to improve my stutter. “At the meeting. Will you d-do t-the talking?”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Then fucking explain why?”
As Dima rose out of his chair, he grimaced. When I cocked my brows questioningly at him, he scowled. “I just sat too long.”
“Is p-physical therapy still helping?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Fuck you. I was just concerned.”
Dima walked over to me, slightly dragging his right leg. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Even if this speech pathologist you’ve kidnapped cures you, it doesn’t change who you are inside, Maks.”
When I opened my mouth to argue that there was no cure, he said, “Just like my limp doesn’t change who I am inside. We’re perfectly imperfect to run the Korolov Bratva.”
My chest twisted with his words. I desperately wanted to believe him. That our men would embrace the new leadership despite the fact that I stuttered or Dima limped. But I wasn’t there yet.
“Okay, b-brat.”
After clapping me on the back, he motioned to Father’s body. “I guess we should call the funeral home, huh?”
For anyone other than the Bratva, a homicide at home would have to be investigated.
“We could always just wrap him up in the rug and b-bury him in the b-backyard,” I suggested.
Dima snorted. “Tempting.”
With a grin, I said, “He’d just p-pollute the soil and kill all the grass.”
“Maybe the burn pile?”
“I’ll let you decide because I need to get back to BLANK.”
A smirk curved on Dima’s lips. “You mean you need to get back to your sexy doctor?”
“That’s not it at all.”
He wagged his brows. “We both know it is.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “You’ve b-been g-gossiping with Aleks and Lev.”
“You know it,” he laughed.
“The three of you are worse than Mila and Kira,” I replied as I started for the door.
“I hope she gives you some sexual healing because you need to get laid.”
As I stalked out of the room, I threw my hand over my hand and shot the bird.
***
On my way back, I made a quick pit stop for an allergy shot in preparation for being around Sarah’s cat.
After taking care of that, I called my mother.
Just as I expected, she wasn’t devastated to hear of my father’s death.
Truthfully, I couldn’t blame her, considering the man had never been faithful to her and had a second family with another woman.
Not to mention he was an insufferable bastard.
With her out of the way, I called Deduskha. He was livid just as I had anticipated, but by the time I hung up with him, he’d come around. In the end, his blood was still in charge of the Bratva, and his position was elevated.