33. Kirill
My palms are sweaty,and I wipe them on my jeans under the table. My father is late, which is not like him. I’ve had less than two hours’ sleep. Between worrying about Tino, and Mackenzie too, my mind kept going over and over this mess, and the position we all find ourselves in. It seems the sins of our fathers have screwed us all one way or another.
When the door to the bar bangs open, I sit up straight and lock eyes with my father. Igor, his ever-present sidekick, is right behind him. That fucker will love this. Grigoriy finally saw me as someone worthy when he thought I was going to marry Mackenzie, now he’ll see me once more as his pathetic, fuck-up son.
Still, I must do this. For her. For my brothers … and for myself. I realized something when I saw Tino in that hospital bed. The three of us are all trapped, one way or another, by our fathers. They’re making our lives hell and ensuring our futures will follow theirs.
I’d looked from Tino to Mackenzie, and something had shifted in me. If I want a life with her in it, I must be able to offer her something more than simply following in my father’s footsteps. She won’t want to live that way. If she had kids with one of us, which is crazy but it’s a possibility at some point in the future, she won’t want them brought up the way I was.
This led to a further realization. If in the future I’m not with Duchess, which kills me to think about but might be the case, would I want any kid of mine to live in fear of me the way I have of Grigoriy? The answer is no. I would not.
This ends. Right now. If it means he kills me, so be it. Then he’ll have nothing. No son to inherit all he’s worked for.
Igor smirks at me as they approach. That bone-headed fool thinks if I’m out of the picture then he’ll stand to gain, but I came to another realization as I tossed and turned unable to sleep.
One thing about my father that I finally understood in my long, dark night of the soul is how much family matters to him. He might threaten all sorts of things, but no way will he leave his empire to a lowborn piece of trash like Igor. He’d rather see it crumble to nothing than do that. For years, I’ve let my fear of Igor taking over keep me in check, but the understanding that Grigoriy would not let that happen is kind of freeing. Of course, I might be wrong. My father is nothing if not unpredictable.
He glances at Igor, and a micro-expression flits across his features. It is so brief, but I recognize it instantly. Disgust. Real, genuine disgust. Igor disgusts my father. He’s useful to him, but he’s not going to inherit it all. He’s only ever been a threat, not a realistic opponent. My father might let his goon beat me, but he won’t hand his empire to him.
I smirk back at Igor, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, the fucker won’t benefit.
They sit opposite me, and I stare at my father.
“So?” He squares his jaw at me. “Have you done it? Is the blonde beauty going to be joining our family?”
“I want to talk to you alone.” I don’t even look at Igor.
Igor snorts, but I ignore him.
“Just spit it out, son. I am busy.” Father drums his fingers on the table.
“No. I want to discuss this alone.” I turn and finally look at Igor. “Without the hired help listening. If not, I’ll simply leave.”
“I’ll let him break your fucking wrist if you keep this up.” Grigoriy yawns as if he’s bored.
I shrug and sit back, acting as bored in return. “Fine. Let him. I don’t care anymore.”
My father’s brows draw down in confusion. It’s joyous to behold. He’s not sure how to react. I love throwing him off guard like this. His eyes narrow, and I simply hold his stare, ice-blue to ice-blue. All the fear I used to feel is not there anymore. If he throws me into a dark room, so what? I have my feelings for Mackenzie to keep me warm and safe now. It’s only the dark; it can’t hurt me.
I smile at him, and his frown deepens. To my shock and delight, he turns to Igor and jerks his chin.
“Go sit over there.”
Igor cracks his knuckles and gives me a death glare but does as he’s told.
“That’s better,” I say. “I hate the way that idiot listens in on everything between us.”
“Don’t push it too far, son. Now. Are. You. Engaged?”
He enunciates each word slowly and carefully.
“No. I. Am. Not.” Two can play at his game.
The slap is swift and hard, rocking my head back on my neck. I might have whiplash. I rub my cheek and turn back to him and smile.
“That won’t make it happen,” I say. “I asked, and she said no.”
“You gave her a choice?” He seems surprised.
“This is America, Father. She’s allowed to choose.”
“Nonsense,” he growls. “Real men take what they want.”
God, he’s insane. I stare at him and try to figure out if he’s being serious or if he’s trying to play games with me.
“Her mother is marrying Nataniele Rossi. Mackenzie isn’t just a girl off the streets, Father. She’s one of us, and her stepfather is going to be the man who runs the college. We don’t want to make enemies of them.”
He laughs, low and nasty. “I spend my life dealing with enemies. That’s the difference between you and me. I’ve raised you to be weak.”
“Good business demands a middle ground, though, no?” It’s a very risky thing I’m saying, but I push ahead. “Look at how well I did with the watches. I did that because I was cautious about what I bought.” That’s a lie, but I’ll use anything right now. “I want to be clear that I won’t be doing anything crazy with regard to Mackenzie. I will, however, make her mine. In my own time.”
I throw him a bone. Let him think she’ll still marry me.
He scoffs. “Son, she isn’t going to be yours. She’d have accepted your proposal if that were the case.”
“She’s not twenty-one yet. She’s an American girl, Pappa. Remember, they are not the same. They value independence, among other things. She will be mine, but it will just take a little time. I can’t force it.”
He slams his fist down on the table and, despite telling myself this man no longer scares me, it makes me jump.
“You can force it, Kirill. That’s the problem. You have never learned this lesson. Of course, you can force it. She should be crawling to you. Grateful to lick your boots. You will one day be the head of the Stepanov Bratva. How can she refuse that? Unless, of course, she sees your weakness? Perhaps she knows that, instead of you, I will crown Igor.”
I laugh. “Pappa, you’ll never make Igor your heir. He’s an idiot. It would shame our ancestors to do such a thing. Kill me, break my bones, do what you wish, but you won’t give all you’ve inherited and built upon to him.”
He stares at me, his jaw working. “Very well. Is this your final answer?”
A sense of elation fills me. This is easier than I thought. “Yes. She will be mine, but in my own time.”
He nods once. “Fine. But remember, Kirill. You made it be this way. You, not me.”
What the fuck does he mean by that? Am I going to get taken away when term ends and locked in the cellar again? The thought has cold sweat breaking out on my neck, but I tell myself I can endure it. For Mackenzie. For my brothers. For the four of us to keep doing this crazy, fucked up, wonderful thing we are doing.
In the end, it will be worth it.
“You always were a disappointment, Kirill. I thought that might have changed.”
My father stands and leaves. He snaps his fingers at Igor.
They walk out the door, and I try to tamp down the sudden sense of dark fear that washes over me and focus on the good instead. I’ve finally stood up to the son of a bitch.
Whatever happens, I can handle it.