Chapter 9
nine
The night is restless.
Sleep evades me like a bad breakup in a small town. Still there but just out of reach.
Fuck, I miss Ava.
Her heart. Her soul. Her cunt.
Those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.
Sighing, I take a sip of the lukewarm coffee the new flight attendant sat down in front of me twenty minutes ago.
His name is Roger, and he is about fifty years old, and completely temporary.
I have officially hired him as a butler for the penthouse.
Mia has been doing the job of two people for several years now without complaint but there is even further strain on her with Ava.
Dima is pouting at the back of the plane, his headphones lodged in his ears as he taps out a beat to God knows what. Roger, apparently, isn’t his type.
The plane is blissfully quiet as we take off from the private airstrip in London a few days after Kirill’s demise.
Ivan is staying behind to clean up the London faction. His father has awarded him the title of Pakhan.
Our father.
I have to keep reminding myself of that. We haven’t had much time to talk since Kirill’s death. We have all been too busy planning for what is ahead. The known and the unknown.
Known: Kirill had indeed been the one to start the Chameleon Agency.
Unknown: How Kirill became involved with a secret society.
Had he been approached prior to his start in human trafficking or was that what caught their interest? There are still too many unknowns when it comes to the egotistical Potestas Omnis.
What a fucking ridiculous name.
“Have you ever heard her voice before?” Andrei plays the conversation Kirill had with the mysterious Caesar. Kenzi listens intently but there is no flicker of recognition on her face.
“No,” she shakes her head. “But Legionnaires usually don’t have contact with anyone other than their handlers if they have one.”
“Did you?” I ask curiously.
Kenzi shrugs. “For a little while,” she sighs. “Her name was Venus.”
“I thought you didn’t have names,” I ask.
“Only the most trusted operatives get names,” she divulges bitterly. “Usually Greek or Roman deity names. It’s their reward for doing their job without asking questions.”
“You don’t sound thrilled about that.”
Kenzi snorts derisively. “When you first arrive, they try to pit you against each other.” Her eyes take on the faraway look she gets when she dissociates from her past. “The better you are, the better your ranking, and the only way your ranking goes up is by defeating your competition.”
“The other operatives.”
Kenzi nods.
“The first day,” she takes a stuttering breath. “They separated us into groups of four or five and stuck us in a room with a handful of melee weapons. Then told us only one of us can come out alive.”
Andrei curses under his breath.
“They say it will desensitize us to violence.” She chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t realize dying was the better option.”
She doesn’t say any more after that and neither of us pushes her. I have a feeling I know where her story is going, and I respect her too much to force her to relive that.
“Venus was my handler for about six months before I proved I was capable on my own,” Kenzi continues answering Andrei’s original question.
“Now, it’s a text message with a name and photo.
Sometimes, like with Kirill, they want it to be done at a specific spot and time, but mostly someone just wants the job done. ”
I nod.
“You can’t go back,” I point out the obvious to her. “You know that right?”
Rolling her eyes, Kenzi shakes her head. “No shit, Sherlock,” she deadpans. “But it is completely worth it.”
“How did you…” Andrei is interrupted by Dima calling Kenzi’s name. Mark is on vidcom for her.
“Be back.” She gets up from her seat and moves to the back of the plane.
Andrei and I sit in silence for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to say. This is the first time we have been alone together.
I tap my fingers against the seat’s armrest.
Fuck, I am nervous.
I never get nervous.
Then again, I never imagined I had any other immediate family other than Kirill.
Andrei decided to accompany me back to Seattle with Dima and Kenzi.
He says he wants to help and the moment I graciously accepted his offer, he was on the phone with his sovietnik making plans to have men sent from Russia to assist.
I think he is also looking to connect.
Not that either of us knows how to do that. It is pretty obvious where I inherited my lack of social skills from.
“Ivan says you are Pakhan of the Seattle Bratva.” Andrei breaks the silence. I shift my gaze from the open scenic window to find his gray eyes staring at me intently. It is like looking in a mirror. “I know Tomas Ivankov well, he is a good man. A good leader.”
I dip my head. “He is,” I agree, unsure of what else to say. Andrei licks his lips anxiously, his own fingertips tapping silently against his knee.
More silence.
Fuck, I don’t know how to do this. People. Connections. That is Vas’s thing, not mine. He is amiable and charming. Before Ava, the only people who saw my humorous and talkative side were my brothers.
The men of my inner sanctum.
The ones I would give my life for without a second thought.
Tomas taught me to only show my true self around those I trust most. The men and women under my command aren’t my friends.
I may consider them family and would be cordial with them, but over time they would think of me more as a comrade and less as their leader.
It means they could come to believe they could skirt the laws I laid out.
It might seem cold and uncaring but the line I have to draw in the sand as leader keeps everyone safe and in line.
Not through fear but through respect.
“Your mother…” he trails off, unsure of how to express what he wants to know. I smile at him.
“She was warm and caring,” I tell him. Even when Kirill had her drugged, she managed to shift the haze aside whenever it came to me. “When she smiled it was like the whole world lit up. Her laugh was like—”
“Sunshine on a cloudy day,” he remembers wistfully.
I nod. “It is rare, but yes, exactly that.”
“Did she ever speak of me?” There is hope in his eyes and I hate to be the one to extinguish that.
So, I lie.
“A few times.” I clear my throat. “But it was often vague. I grew up believing Kirill to be my father and I think that is what kept us safe from him. For a time.”
“If that bastard wasn’t dead, I’d kill him again,” Andrei snarls. “To think my own brother betrayed me from the beginning.”
“You couldn’t have known the depth of his hatred,” I assure him. “He obviously had help.”
“I shouldn’t have let myself be so blindsided by grief,” he admits, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Maybe then I would have seen his treachery. I would have been able to save you and her.”
“I wouldn’t be the man I am today if you had.
We can’t change the cards fate deals us, but we can learn to master what we are given.
My life was hard. Always looking over my shoulder.
Waiting for the moment I slip up and that would be the end.
” I pause, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I often was cold and hungry. But I learned to fight. To survive. And that was what I was doing when Tomas found me. Just fighting to survive. He gave me the chance to be a part of a family that cared. That had my back. Tomas will always be my father. The one who gave me every opportunity.”
Andrei’s face falls as I talk. He thinks it is too late to be my father. Tomas had been there every step of the way for me as I grew from a boy to a man. He is my father in every way, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for another family.
Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I continue. “And the one greatest thing he taught me is that family is whoever we say it is and we can always have more than one.”
His eyes are wet with unshed tears as he stares at me. After a moment he gives me a sharp nod.
“I will earn the right for you to call me father.” His voice is hoarse, brimming with barely restrained emotion. “I will show you I am worthy of that name.”
I smile at him and nod. “I look forward to getting to know you.”
“Good.” He clears his throat and sits back comfortably in his seat, one leg crossed over the other. “Now, tell me about this wife of yours.”
Chuckling, I relax against the leather of my own seat and proceed to tell him about the goddess of a woman who has bewitched my soul.