Epilogue
NATALIA
The elevator ride to the top of the skyscraper feels like it takes a full ten minutes. This isn’t where the Pakhan lives, but it’s where he hosts the Bratva Council meetings.
Leonid’s eyes go wide as the number on the elevator ticks over to one hundred.
“One hundred?” He asks out loud, as if to check whether he’s reading the numbers right.
“Hope you’re not scared of heights,” Leks teases him.
Leonid puffs out his chest. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Confirmed. He’s definitely Leks’s son.
Not only is he having to adjust to being in a big city after growing up in Siberia, he’s being introduced to the social occasions of the Bratva. The way he keeps shifting uncomfortably in his suit reminds me of how my brothers would behave when our parents brought us to events like this.
As soon as we step out of the lift, a stony-faced guard appraises us and stands aside.
It wouldn’t be fair to describe this as an apartment. It’s the entire top floor of the building, a cavernous space with floor-to-ceiling views of the city skyline.
It’s only Leks’s tight grip on my hand that holds me steady as every eye in the room turns towards us and Leonid.
I thought I was overdressed, but my baby blue Dior gown is cute compared to the overload of sequined dresses and diamonds adorning every throat.
The stormy expression on Leks’s face makes the room fall into silence. Or maybe they’re just surprised to see that he really is alive and back in the city.
To an outsider, his scarred face simmers with danger and aggression. Only I know that he’s nervous.
This is an institution Leks was raised to hate. Yet here he is, about to be anointed as one of its leaders.
“Aleksandr Zhukov and Natalia Zhukova, formerly Bryusova, with Leonid Zhukov.”
Someone announces our names as we step into the apartment.
The lighting is dim and moody except for a table in the center of the room, where a tall man with dark features radiates pure power. I’d thought Leks had a brooding look, but his easy smile makes him look like a teddy bear compared to the intensity of the Pakhan’s face.
A slight blonde woman hovers near him. His face only softens when he looks over at her.
His intense black eyes fall to Leks as we approach. This is their first meeting since more than a decade ago, when they were in school together.
“Leks.”
“Viktor.”
They exchange a firm handshake, and a kind of understanding seems to pass between them. The Pakhan turns to me, his gaze no less intense.
“You must be Natalia.” I nod and he closes my hand in a firm handshake too, then gestures at the papers on the table. “We need your sign-off too, since this is your family seat.”
I sign the papers with a flick. It’s quietly satisfying to give the seat to the one person my father would’ve hated to inherit his empire the most. If there’s one thing I’ve realized through this healing process, it’s that I’m determined to live this life in a way that would make my papa roll in his grave on a daily basis.
The Pakhan gives Leonid a nod, and his eyes flash with interest as Leks explains his background in quiet Russian. The memory of the Pakhan’s own rise to power comes back to me. Wasn’t he a bastard, too?
Leks pulls me close, his lips brushing my ear. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
Dread clutches at my stomach as I realize that I’m now on my own.
The meeting will happen without me, and the rest of us here are expected to socialize. I know what happens to women who don’t make friends in this environment — they get eaten alive. I’ve heard my mother and her friends gossiping to destroy lives.
Leonid quickly finds the other children, who are immediately fascinated to meet someone who has lived in Siberia.
I hover at the edge of the room until a brunette in a forest-green slip dress walks up to me.
Her appearance is slightly more understated than red-haired woman who is literally wearing a tiara.
The brunette seems entirely at ease, as if these situations are a regular occurrence which she doesn’t mind.
“You must be Natalia.”
Her mouth spreads in a knowing, expectant smile. I don’t like the thought that everyone here already knows who I am and what’s happened over the past few months, but that is the way the Bratva works.
For the next decade, I’ll be known as the girl who helped her husband murder her father after he blew up the port.
I force a smile in return. “That’s me.”
“Nina.” She points out her husband, Artyom Petrov. I vaguely recognize him from some of my father’s social occasions. He couldn’t be more different from Leks. He looks like the kind of man you’d see in Forbes, not a member of the Bratva.
“And your child?”
I nod. “In every way that matters.” I think his dark hair and eyes make it clear that Leonid is not mine, but I worry about what people would think. I know my mother would have a field day with a piece of gossip like that.
“From a previous relationship?”
I take a sip of my sparkling water. “It’s complicated.”
That makes Nina’s brown eyes sparkle. “Always is.” She lowers her voice. “Art is Ava’s father but he didn’t know that until she was four.”
“You kept it a secret from him?”
I’m such a hopeless liar that I can’t imagine being able to mislead Leks about something that big. I couldn’t even take a pregnancy test without him being there.
She gives a little grimace. “Like you said, it’s complicated. The Bratva isn’t always the easiest place to start a family.”
As if on cue, a girl with her father’s golden hair runs up to Nina and wraps an arm around her legs.
“Mommy, the boys pulled out my hair tie. That wasn’t very nice,” she complains, pushing a pink sparkly hair tie into her mother’s hand.
“No, that wasn’t nice, Ava. You go and tell them that.”
Nina sighs and starts to braid the girl’s hair into a crown. She keeps pulling away with a yelp when the braid gets too tight.
Ava tilts her head and looks up at me as her mother tries to get her to sit still. “This is my new friend, Natalia.”
“You’re pretty,” she tells me. “Like a princess. I like your dress.”
Well, at least a five-year-old thinks I’ve made the dress code.
“Thank you, Ava. Have you met Leonid?”
I point him out, where he seems to be rough-housing with some of the boys across the room. “That’s my son.”
Nina finishes braiding her hair, and the girl runs off to play games with her cousins again.
“She’s a sweetie.”
“At least the kids get to have some fun at these things.” Nina gives me a look that feels like she’s trying to tell me something. “Soon there will be more of them, right?”
My stomach flips. How does she know I’m pregnant?
“Hmm.” She narrows her eyes, glancing down at my lower belly. “I’m putting money on twins, actually.”
“Oh God.” I hadn’t even thought of that, but twins do run in the family.
She bursts into laughter when she sees my face, giving me a reassuring pat on the arm. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m a doctor. I can always tell.”
“You’re a doctor?” How the hell a doctor got mixed up with the Bratva, I have no idea.
“And I’ll let you in on a secret,” she lowers her voice. “I’m expecting too! Our kids will be able to play together while these boring meetings go on.”
I let out a surprised laugh and look around. I don’t know what I’m expecting to happen, but it feels illegal to call these meetings boring.
“Oh come on, they are boring. They could at least give us some entertainment instead of hosting them in a freaking aircraft hangar.” She gestures around at the minimalist boardroom style apartment.
“And the only non-alcoholic drink is sparkling water. Very inconsiderate, considering they’re drinking Beluga vodka over there. ”
“I guess you’re right. These meetings have always been boring.” It feels liberating to say it. When I was growing up, these meetings were treated as sacred and important.
A murmur goes through the room.
Of course, you can trust Vera to steal the show.
Her crimson dress is shimmering and sheer, revealing the black lace underwear she’s wearing underneath. Her black heels look sharp enough to stab someone.
I can’t help but notice the way that Taras Romanov can’t tear his eyes away from her. She hasn’t updated me on their relationship in months, but the way he’s looking at her suggests that there’s still something there.
Nina sees it too, shooting me a look with her eyebrows raised and her eyes sparkling. “Juicy. That is the kind of entertainment we need at these things.”