Chapter 26
THEA
Gabriel just told a room full of Russian mobsters that I’m Teodora Fetisova, the last surviving daughter of a murdered pakhan, the heir to a syndicate that was supposedly wiped out twenty years ago.
The room is still.
No one shouts. No one stands. No one says a word.
They all just sit there, staring.
My heart is hammering so hard, I can hear it in my ears. I force myself to breathe and keep my hands flat on the table. Despite the calmness in the room, I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life.
Kolya says nothing. He just stares, the same as the rest of them. What he’s thinking, I have no idea.
Gabriel is still standing, his posture relaxed. One hand rests on the back of my chair, the other gesturing calmly as he speaks.
“I have documentation,” he says, sliding my folder across the table. “Birth certificates. DNA analysis. And police reports confirming that a five-year-old daughter was unaccounted for the night of the murders.”
Kolya shifts in his seat. Ivan reaches over, picks up the folder, and flips it open. He slips out one of the documents. As he looks it over, his expression gives nothing away.
“This,” Petr says, shaking his head, “is a serious accusation, Gabriel. Are you implying that Kolya murdered the Fetisov family? And that he’s been lying to all of us for the past twenty years?”
“I’m saying that the evidence speaks for itself.”
Kolya scoffs. “Evidence.” His voice drips with disdain. He hasn’t moved from his seat or given any indication that he’s worried about what’s happening. “You bring some woman to our council, dress her up, manufacture documents, and call it evidence?”
“The DNA doesn’t lie,” Gabriel says. “She isn’t just some woman. You’ve known for a while now that she was alive, Kolya.”
He waves a hand in the air dismissively.
“DNA proves parentage,” he retorts. “It doesn’t prove who murdered whom.
Let’s say that the DNA evidence isn’t manufactured, that you didn’t simply pay off a lab to fabricate it.
Let’s just make that huge assumption and say that this woman is indeed Lev Fetisov’s daughter.
How does that prove that I killed her family? Where is your evidence of that?”
He scoffs, shaking his head, as if this is all a complete waste of his time, nothing more than an annoyance.
Anger like I’ve never known burns inside of me. But I stay silent. I have to.
“This matter, awful though it may be,” Kolya goes on, “was sorted out years ago. A syndicate in Moscow was found to be responsible. They hired local thugs who did the deed. End of story.”
Gabriel opens another folder, removes a few documents, and slides them across the table. Kolya reaches over and takes them, coughing a bit as he does so.
“Financial records,” Gabriel says. “Payments made from accounts linked to your organization in the weeks before the massacre. Payments to men who had access to the Fetisov household.”
“Circumstantial,” Kolya says immediately. “It proves nothing.”
“Witness testimony—”
“From a woman whom you’ve been paying for years,” Kolya interjects. “Your witness has financial incentive to say whatever you want her to.”
I look around at the men seated at the table.
Maxim is still reading. Petr is frowning.
Vlad leans back in his chair, watching Kolya with an expression I can’t make out.
Sasha sits at Kolya’s side, as if waiting for the order to attack.
The other men regard one another in silence, as if trying to find cues on how they should feel about what they’ve just learned.
“The code is clear,” Gabriel says, his voice hardening. “The murder of a pakhan and his family voids all authority obtained through that action. If Kolya orchestrated the Fetisov massacre—”
“If,” Kolya says. “If your witness is credible. If your documents are real. If, if, if.”
A wicked smile spreads across his face as he continues.
“You want my opinion? You used the tragic circumstances of the Fetisov family to stake a claim to my territory. I’m sure it was easy to fabricate documents, pay off lab technicians, and bring in this girl as a prop.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I want to launch myself across the table and strangle him.
“Bullshit,” Gabriel snarls. “You know the truth, Kolya. You know damn well who she is. You know what you did.”
“You’re right. I do know what I did,” he says.
“I took what was left of the Fetisov Bratva and prevented it from falling into total chaos in the wake of the tragedy. Listen, Gabriel, you’ve brought a bit of theater to what is typically a rather dreary meeting.
But this is just a story. Stories aren’t proof. ”
Ivan leans forward. “The full council will determine what constitutes proof,” he says. “That’s not a decision for tonight.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightens. Kolya grins. He likes where this is going.
I suppose I imagined the men around the table immediately turning on Kolya, that revealing who I was would be a bombshell, and that there would be no denying Gabriel’s evidence.
But these men aren’t convinced. That, or they’re too afraid to be.
“We’ll meet again in three weeks,” Ivan says, “to discuss this matter further. In the meantime, we’ll review the evidence. Until then, this matter is tabled.”
“Ivan—” Gabriel leans forward.
“Tabled, Gabriel,” Ivan says. “Those are the rules. You know them as well as I do.”
Gabriel is silent for a long moment. Then he nods.
“Understood.”
I can’t take it anymore.
“You tried to buy me!” I say, pointing at Kolya. “You wanted to buy me so badly that night at the auction. Why, if you weren’t scared of who I am?”
There’s chatter among the men. Gabriel says nothing.
If Kolya is shaken, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he snorts in amusement.
“Yes, I did want to buy you,” he admits. “That’s what the night was all about, wasn’t it? Bidding on lovely objects, taking them home for fun. I may not have purchased you, but I did get your friend. She’s been quite the little plaything.”
Sylvie.
“You goddamn pig!”
The chatter grows louder.
Kolya chuckles. “Trust me,” he says. “I’ve been taking good care of her. If only you knew—you’d be wishing you were in her place.”
I want to leap across the table and claw his eyes out. I open my mouth to scream at him, but before I can get a word out, Gabriel takes my hand.
“Gentlemen, thank you again for your time,” he calmly says. “I look forward to speaking with all of you further on the matter.”
I am burning with rage, but I know Gabriel’s move is the smart one. He guides me out of my seat, my legs shaking. We move toward the door.
“A moment, Gabriel,” Kolya says, “before you leave.”
I feel Gabriel’s hand tighten on mine.
“The girl stays.”
The temperature in the room goes cold. Gabriel turns slightly, and I turn with him.
“Excuse me?” Gabriel says, his tone quiet but lethal.
Kolya shrugs. “If she’s truly Teodora Fetisova, as you claim she is, then she belongs to the Bratva, not you. The council will need to question her, verify her story. She stays in a neutral location, under our protection, until we can speak again on the topic.”
My heart practically stops.
“No.” Gabriel says with finality.
Kolya leans forward. “It’s not a request, Gabriel. You come to this meeting, accuse me of the vilest sorts of crimes, and now you want to simply leave? No, you’re not going to take her back to your home and coach her on what to say. She stays here and—”
“I said, no.” Gabriel narrows his eyes. “She’s under Moretti protection. She leaves with me. And if anyone in this room has a problem with that, we can discuss it.”
Vlad raises his hand. “Gabriel, be reasonable. If the girl is who you say she is—”
“She is my woman,” Gabriel says flatly. “That’s who she is. And no one in this room—no one in this city—gets to touch her. Is that clear?”
Kolya nods at Sasha, who rises from his seat and walks around the table.
“Take her,” Kolya says to him. “Make sure she doesn’t leave.”
Two more of Kolya’s men form up with Sasha.
“Come now,” Sasha says as he approaches. “Your woman? This plump little thing you overpaid for at the auction?”
The words hit me like a slap, and heat floods my face. I want to crawl out of my skin.
Gabriel moves so fast, I don’t even see it happen. One moment he’s beside me, the next he’s closed the distance to Sasha, his hand fisted in his collar. There’s a blur of movement before a sick crack sounds as Gabriel slams Sasha’s face into the table.
Sasha screams.
But he’s not done. His hand shoots out and he grabs a pen from the table. Then, with incredible speed, he drives it right into Sasha’s thigh. My stomach tightens at the sudden violence.
Sasha screams even louder.
“Gabriel!” Ivan is on his feet. “Stop this right now!”
“She is Teodora Fetisova.” Gabriel’s voice is cold and precise, each word spoken with terrifying calm and clarity.
“Daughter of Lev Fetisov. The last surviving member of one of the most powerful families in this city’s history.
And she is also my woman. Mine to protect.
And if any man in this room disrespects her in the way this fool has, I will do worse than this. ”
He yanks the pen out. Sasha falls to his knees, his hands wrapped around his leg, blood soaking through his pants.
Gabriel straightens his jacket and smooths his tie.
“I am Gabriel Moretti,” he says. “Don of the Moretti family. I have shown you respect by coming here tonight and presenting my evidence through proper channels. But do not mistake my respect for weakness.” He turns his attention to Kolya.
“I know what you did. And so do you. Justice is coming for you, Kolya. Prepare yourself accordingly.”
He crosses back to me and takes my hand.
No one stops us as we walk out, the door closing quietly.