Chapter 10 Alexei
Alexei
Leonid Andreev shows up at my gate covered in sweat and looking like death.
I watch him on the security monitor as he leans against his car door. His shirt is wrinkled, and his hair is sticking up on its ends. This is not the composed Bratva patriarch I’ve come to know.
“Let him in,” I tell the guard through the intercom.
Mila’s in the kitchen making coffee when I head downstairs. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts that barely covers her thighs, and her hair is still messy from sleep.
“Your father’s here,” I tell her.
Her face goes pale. “Papa? Why would he come here?”
“That’s what I’m about to find out. Stay upstairs.”
“Like hell.”
“Mila—”
“He’s my father. Whatever he has to say, I need to hear it.”
I don’t have time to argue. Leonid’s already out of his car and walking toward the front door. I open it before he can knock.
“Alexei.” His voice cracks on my name. “I need to speak with you. Privately.”
Mila appears behind me, wearing a defiant scowl. “Papa, what’s wrong?”
Leonid’s eyes fill with tears when he sees his daughter. “Milaya. You’re safe. Thank God, you’re safe.”
“Of course, I’m safe. What’s going on?”
He looks at me with desperation written all over his face. “Please. Five minutes.”
I lead him to my office and close the door. Mila follows, but I shake my head. She glares at me but stays in the hallway.
Leonid collapses into a chair and buries his face in his hands. “They took Irina and the baby. My daughter and my grandson.”
My stomach drops, and my eyes shoot to the door, where I have no doubt Mila is listening. “When?”
“Yesterday. She was at the market with her bodyguard. Three men grabbed her and my grandson in broad daylight. Shot the guard twice. He’s in surgery, but he’ll probably die.”
“Who took them?”
“The Novikovs. Maybe the Vasilievs. I don’t know for certain. All I have is a phone call demanding I provide intelligence about your family’s operations in exchange for their safe return.”
I walk to the window and stare out at the forest. This is bad.
“What kind of intelligence are they asking for?” I ask.
“Finances. Names of your suppliers and distributors. Everything that would allow them to dismantle your organization piece by piece. They said if I provide it, they’ll return Irina and the baby unharmed. If I don’t, they kill them both and dump the bodies where I’ll find them.”
I turn to face him. “You came here to ask for help.”
“I came here to beg for it.” Leonid stands and crosses the room. “I know you owe me nothing. I know my family has brought you nothing but problems, but I can’t let them die because of my failures.”
“You have other resources. Other allies.”
“None powerful enough to go against the Novikovs or the Vasilievs. None who would risk war over one woman and her bastard child.” His voice breaks again. “You’re my only option. Please. I’ll give you anything you want. Territory. Money. Whatever it takes.”
I eye him and see the genuine terror of a father who’s lost control of a situation and doesn’t know how to fix it. Part of me is sympathetic, but I can’t put my family at risk any more than I already have.
“I’m already protecting Mila,” I remind him. “That’s the extent of my obligation to your family.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Completely serious. I have limited resources, Leonid. I’m using those resources to keep your youngest daughter safe. Don’t ask me to split my focus.”
“But the baby,” he says desperately. Leonid’s hands shake as he grabs the edge of my desk. “You heartless bastard. I thought the Kozlovs had honor. I thought family meant something to you people.”
“Family does mean something. It means everything, in fact. But your family isn’t mine.”
Leonid stares at me like I’ve just shot him. Then his face crumbles. This powerful man who runs half of Moscow’s underground shipping breaks down crying in my office.
“I don’t know what to do,” he sobs through tears. “I don’t know how to save her.”
I walk to the door and open it. “I’m sorry about Irina. Truly. But my answer is no.”
Leonid doesn’t move for a long moment. Then, he straightens his shoulders and wipes his face with his sleeve. The broken father disappears, and the hardened criminal returns.
“When this is over,” he tells me quietly, “when they’ve killed my daughter and her child, I’ll remember this moment. I’ll remember that you had the power to help and chose not to.”
“I understand.”
He leaves without another word. I watch from the window as he gets in his car and drives away.
Mila appears in the doorway. Her face is white, and her hands are trembling. She heard.
“You refused,” she says.
“Yes.”
“Irina and her baby are going to die, and you refused to help.”
“I’m protecting you. That’s my priority.”
“She’s my sister,” she shrieks. “My sister and my nephew are being held by people who will kill them, and you’re telling me that’s not your problem?”
“It’s not my problem; it’s your father’s problem. He made enemies. He failed to protect his daughter. That’s on him, not me.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She storms into the office and gets right in my face. “You have the resources. The manpower. The connections. You could save them, but you’re choosing not to because what? Because it’s inconvenient? Because it doesn’t benefit you?”
“Splitting my focus puts you at risk. My men are watching this property and gathering intelligence on who’s threatening your family. They’re prepared to defend this location if necessary. You want me to pull those resources to mount a rescue operation for a woman I don’t know?”
Mila slaps me. Hard. The crack echoes through the office.
I don’t react, just let the sting spread across my cheek while she glares at me with tears streaming down her face.
“You’re a monster,” she seethes.
“Maybe.”
“I thought you were different. I thought beneath all the violence and control, you cared about something. But you’re just like every other criminal. Cold and heartless.” She backs toward the door. “Take me home. Right now. I’m leaving your protection and helping my father myself.”
“No.”
“I’m not asking permission, Alexei, I’m telling you. Either you take me home, or I walk out that door and find my own way back to Moscow.”
I cross the room and block her exit. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She tries to push past me, but I catch her wrists and hold her in place. We’re standing too close now. Close enough to count every tear sliding down her cheeks.
“Let me go,” she demands.
“No.”
“I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”
“I’ll learn to live with it. You’re staying here. End of discussion.”
She crosses her arms. “Help my sister, or I leave. Those are your options.”
“Those aren’t options, those are threats. And I don’t respond well to threats.”
“Then what do you respond to, Alexei? Because clearly, logic doesn’t work. Appeals to basic human decency don’t work. So, what will it take to make you reconsider?”
I look at her standing there in my T-shirt with tears on her face and rage in her eyes. This woman who’s been driving me insane since the moment she walked into my life. This woman who tests every boundary I set and pushes every button I have.
This woman I want so badly that I can barely think straight.
An idea forms. It’s dangerous and probably stupid, but the thought of watching her get on her knees and beg makes my cock throb despite the situation.
“You want me to reconsider helping Irina?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Then get on your knees and convince me.”