CHAPTER 22
Zinovy
“She is a beauty, Bayev. You have done well.” Anatoly Balakin looks at my Petal with interest that from anyone else would have my hackles raised. I have seen him with his wife, however, and thus I do not take offense. If ever a man understood obsession and worship of a woman, it is the Pakhan.
Stories go that before leaving Russia for America, a dolboyob dared question why Anatoly refused to replace his wife, Irina, after a dangerous pregnancy left her barren but for their daughter, Amaliya.
Supposedly, Anatoly tore the man’s testicles from his body and fed him to the hounds guarding the man’s own estate.
There are those who whisper he also castrated the man’s sons to ensure the family line died, but to my knowledge no one has ever braved the question to the Pakhan.
In those days, I was merely a shestyorka, essentially a glorified errand boy who barely ever had the good fortunate to stand in Anatoly’s presence. He wasn’t the Pakhan then, but his rising power made men nervous.
When that Pakhan in Russia suggested Anatoly take his little family and go to the United States to strengthen the Vor here, my father had seen it as an opportunity to rid himself of me and sent me, too.
My older brothers were destined to make him proud, and in those days, I was just a scrawny runt with a perpetually empty belly and a hunger to rise. As Anatoly has, so have I.
His approval of Petal means more to me than I let on.
I hadn’t wanted her to worry, but inwardly, I had been bracing for how any disproval would fuck me up.
It wasn’t that long ago the Pakhan had used me as a pawn to force the man in love with his daughter to prove his worthiness to claim her.
No part of me had wanted to go through with the betrothal, but duty had demanded I fall in line with his machinations.
Though he’s made no further efforts to control who I wed, the risk has always been there.
There is nothing I would not do to claim and keep Petal, though defying my Pakhan would mean a life for the both of us in hiding. I would do it, make no mistake, but it is far less hazardous to have him support our union.
“She must be more than a beauty, ‘Toly. To have captured the attention of our Zinovy. Come, sweet girl, and let’s get to know one another.” Irina sweeps into Anatoly’s study without hesitation for the potentially dangerous situation that could occur in this room.
Before either Petal or I can register her intentions, Irina has Petal whisked from the room and headed deeper into the home toward the kitchen. With the women gone, Anatoly regards me carefully.
“You would go to war for her. I can see it in the set of your shoulders and the way your body braced for battle the moment I looked upon her.” There’s no threat in his words, but there is no masking the restrained violence his mere existence contains.
“I would. If required.” I can be nothing less than honest with him. Not only because loyalty demands it, but because honor requires I never lessen the depth of my obsession, even for safety.
“Then Rurik is correct. This is a love match between you and the girl.” A smile softens his austere face, giving him an almost paternal look of pride.
“I haven’t yet informed her of that, sir. But yes. We will wed for love.” My answer startles a bark of laughter from him that brings the women back with cups of coffee in each of their hands. One for each of them and one each for Anatoly and me.
“It’s black, one sugar,” Petal says as she hands me the delicate bone china cup balanced on a tiny saucer, a far cry from the thick porcelain diner mug she served me the first time we met. It feeds my ego that she recalls exactly how I take it.
“What was so funny, ‘Toly?” Irina is the only person in creation to ever have the privilege to call the great Anatoly Balakin by such a silly nickname. Still, he never corrects her.
“Nothing, lyubimaya. Sin surprised me is all. Did you have a good chat?” he asks her.
“Yes. I like her, Sin. You must keep her and bring her back when Amaliya visits with Shaw. It is good to have more women in this family.” Irina settles with Petal on a sofa placed to the side of the large study, and the two resume their quiet talk, getting to know one another.
“That’s that then. She is one of ours now. I will make sure those who need to know are aware. You have a boekvik in mind who you will entrust her guard detail to?”
“Yes. Leonid.” Alevtina’s husband has proven himself trustworthy, and now that his wife also works directly for me, he is more aware than ever how important the task of guarding Petal will be.
His wife is already known to my little bird, and his children are young enough they will be good influences to have around once Petal becomes pregnant with our own.
“Good. I see you are planning well. Now, let us talk of business while the women are busy, and then we will eat a meal together and toast the good fortune that brings your intended to our family.”
For all the bloodshed and criminal things the Vor stands for, this family I owe fealty to is the realest family I have ever had.
Anatoly will become the father Petal lacks, if she is willing to overlook how terrifying he is and see the papa who cares deeply for all of us, though not necessarily the forgiving type, as Gleb and Sergei have obviously experienced.
But while I won’t lie to my little bird about the darkness I live in as the Pakhan’s avtoritet, she also won’t need to know exactly how brutal our vengeance must be when anyone dares betray us.
None of the darkness will ever touch Petal St. Clare again. Now she has not only me, but the Pakhan of the Russian bratva in the all the States claiming her.