Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
ARTEM
I t wasn't until I saw my dirty red handprint marring the front door’s pristine white paint that I realized my hands were still covered in blood.
Whose blood, I had no idea.
The cabin was quiet, too quiet. Before I tended to my wounds, I needed to make sure Viktoria hadn't had any other rash ideas or committed any other childish acts of rebellion.
I didn't know if I expected to discover her camped out in the woods to get away from me or barricaded behind one of the doors.
It didn't take me long to find her. She was in the bedroom, her hair still wet from a shower as she slept soundly. I closed the door and crept across the room to the ensuite bathroom.
I wanted to be with her, but I needed to wash the violence from my skin.
Almost immediately after I left Viktoria reeling from her punishment, Pavel reached out to tell me they had a lead on the men Solovyov hired as well as the shipment of guns.
We met at Damien's and we all rode together, Gregor taking point for now, since we were in his territory.
Both of us left our differences back at the compound. When we were working, we were completely united, always. It was the only way to ensure we all stayed breathing, and to stop any rumors of infighting.
Family business was for family only.
Tonight, that unity had been especially important. Pavel's contact was not as secure as we had originally thought. We had intended on going in guns blazing and clearing the place out in ten to fifteen minutes.
Unfortunately, we walked into a trap.
The firefight lasted over an hour.
Solovyov's men were waiting for us at the docks. It was an all-out war and even with the men we had brought with us, we were outnumbered three to one.
I stood under the searing hot water. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kostya take a bullet to the arm, and I heard Mikhail swearing as he pulled a knife from his leg before he threw it into the throat of the man who stabbed him.
My brothers and cousins and I all made it out alive. Others didn't.
Then the real work began. We needed to send a message, and it needed to be loud enough to echo across every dark and depraved corner of the world.
We took hours disposing of the bodies in a way to make it damn near impossible to confirm ID. Gregor and I both stayed. We did the same dirty work as our men. I would never ask them to do something I wouldn't.
By the time we left the grisly scene, the sun was rising, and we were all exhausted.
As far as the man who dared to betray us, who lured us into the trap—his body was on top of the burning pyre built of what was left of Solovyov's men.
The message we left was clear, not only to Solovyov but to the Colombians and anyone else who believed the rumors that we had gone weak.
We did what needed to be done. That wasn't what had my heart aching and a pit forming in my stomach. It was what came after.
Once the pyre was reduced to ashes, we went back to Gregor's to recoup, send our condolences to the families of the men we lost. Later we would arrange for payouts to their loved ones, and plan for the funerals.
We had wounded Solovyov; we hadn't killed him yet. He would be back.
When we got to Gregor's house, my cousins, as well as Kostya, were met by their wives. It was touching to watch the way Samara wiped the blood off of Gregor's brow before pulling him into a tight hug and then berating him for putting himself in danger because she was worried.
Marina inspected Kostya's bullet wound, which had already been cleaned and packed, but she wanted to make sure they had done it right. Even Nadia was fretting over Mikhail, and it all made sense.
I finally saw it.
Kostya had once told me he married Marina to give her our name, to keep her safe. It wasn't until after he had made that decision that he had fallen for her. And it was some time after their...interesting wedding that she had fallen in love with him.
After watching her take care of him, I realized love wasn't the weakness I thought it was. It gave them strength. It didn't matter how outnumbered we were. There was not a single thing my brother or our cousins wouldn't do to get back to these women.
Their wives may have given them a vulnerability they didn't have before, but the way they cared for their men, the way they inspired their strength, was incredible.
Watching them together, I was acutely aware of a pit in my gut, one that I had never noticed before, but that I was pretty sure had always been there.
I glanced over at Pavel, expecting to see him on his phone or collapsed in a chair half asleep, but he was watching the scene in front of him while rubbing a spot in the center of his chest. He felt the same deep pain of loneliness I did.
The only difference was that while I had a woman waiting for me, she didn't love me. She hated me. After how brutally I punished her, taking my anger and my fear out on her innocent body, I was afraid I pushed her too far.
After some brief discussion, we all agreed that, for now, the planning could wait. It was far too early, and we needed sleep. This morning would be about recovering and letting the married men spend some time with their wives to remind them what we were fighting for.
The real reason I agreed was because I wanted to get back to the cabin. To Viktoria.
I scrubbed my skin, cleaning it of any hint of the violence and gore that I had witnessed and participated in tonight.
I didn't want Viktoria to be close to any of it.
Ever.
She could handle it, I was sure of that. But I didn't want her to have to.
She’d suffered enough under her father’s roof. My roof would be a safe haven for my wounded little bird. She deserved to be sheltered from the harsh realities of my world.
Once I was scrubbed clean, I went back into the bedroom where Viktoria slept soundly and poured myself a vodka. I considered crawling into bed with her, but I wasn't ready for that yet.
There was still too much tension in my shoulders, too much violence in my veins for me to lie so close to someone so precious.
So I sat in a chair across the room and watched her sleep. Her reddish-brown hair still spilled across the silk pillowcase, and I could just make out her features in the soft glow of the early morning sunlight.
There were dried tear tracks across her cheeks and I knew she would never want me to see it, but she had been crying.
I was confident that it had nothing to do with her punishment and everything to do with the events of the day.
After talking to the men that I had assigned to Viktoria at the college campus, I found out that she was actually underplaying the shit that her professor had put her through.
I had been busy, but it only took a few minutes of research to find out that he had a history of doing this to female students who were on scholarships or who needed some type of financial assistance and didn't live near family.
Add to that the tense dinner we had, coupled with her almost-escape. It had been a lot.
My girl was not as unaffected as she thought. Through it all, she acted like a warrior. The question now wasn't how I was going to keep those tears from staining her cheeks ever again. It was how did I keep her safe?
My girl. I tested the phrasing in my head again. My girl. It felt good. It felt right.
She had become an unexpected vulnerability.
Any of her father's debtors could come for her claiming that they were owed her by right because of her father's debts. Some of them I could pay off easily; others would refuse to take money. For them, it wasn't about cash. It was about the principle of the thing. About respect and taking what they were owed in blood. After all, if debts could just be forgiven in death, others might try to take the easy way out.
Then there was Solovyov, who had already proven he had absolutely no problem taking out a woman who was in the way or even mildly inconvenient. I couldn't imagine what he would do to a woman whose life could be held against me.
If it meant her life, there was nothing I wouldn't trade for her.
Nothing.
My family's money, power, property, businesses, even my life.
If it meant that she lived, I would give up my life without hesitation.
I wouldn't even do that for my brothers, who I loved.
Viktoria was, for me, a vulnerability. She wasn't a weakness. There was nothing about that woman that was weak, but she could put me in a vulnerable position, so she had to be protected at all costs.
I could keep her in the compound, but even that would only go so far.
No, I needed to do the one thing that would make her absolutely untouchable.
Kostya was right.
The second I thought about it, I knew it was the only way, and I knew that my little princess was going to fight me tooth and nail.
It didn't matter.
Before this was all over, she would be Viktoria Ivanova.