Chapter 27 #2
But apparently Kostya hasn’t said his piece yet, because the bastard follows me into the house and straight into the kitchen.
“You have to snap out of this, brother. You can’t live like this. It’s not healthy.”
I scoff. “We’re Petrovs. Since when do we care about what’s healthy or not? Not sure if you’ve noticed over the years, but we’re kind of toxic.”
“That might be all good and true, but you’re still scaring the shit out of me.”
“I’m fine,” I say, opening the fridge door, only for him to slam it shut.
“You are not fine. You’re fucking spiraling,” he shouts, exasperated.
“If I’m spiraling, it’s because you won’t get out of my way. Now move, Kostya, before you force me to move you myself.”
He hears the threat in my voice and, thankfully, steps aside long enough for me to grab another bottle.
“So this is your plan, huh? Drink yourself into an early grave and just die from liver failure? Because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”
I roll my eyes, only for my chest to tighten at the Stella-like gesture.
My jaw twitches as I stare at my brother in fury for provoking that reaction out of me.
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want. It would save me from having to hear your fucking lectures all the time.”
“Well, tough shit, because here comes another one,” Kostya grits out, stepping in front of me and blocking my path.
“Kostya, I’m not in the mood,” I grind out.
“Again, I couldn’t give a fuck. I’ve let you wallow around this house for months now and haven’t said a word.”
The urge to roll my eyes at him again is strong, but I keep it in check this time.
Hasn’t said anything?
Right. The little shit hasn’t stopped giving me a hard time since we got here, but okay.
“Summer is almost over,” he starts, “which means you’re going to have to go back to Chicago and face her eventually.
I mean, fuck…you arranged for us to work with the Romanos because of Stella.
How the fuck are you going to do that now, when you can’t even pull yourself together with her a whole fucking ocean away? ”
I plant the bottle on the counter with a thud and grab Kostya roughly by the shoulders, fear suddenly flashing in his eyes.
Fuck.
Is this how low I’ve gotten? That my own brother is afraid of me?
I release him immediately, take off my sunglasses, and set them beside the vodka so he can look me in the eye and see I’m no threat to him. Then I lean back against the counter, leaving space between us to prove I won’t touch him again.
“You’re right,” I say flatly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve built my whole life around…” I take a fortifying breath when I can’t even say her name. “But I can fix that. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I’ve made a decision.”
Kostya’s brows knit together in confusion as I continue, laying out the only plan I could think of that would ensure I’d never stand between Stella and her dreams again.
“I’m going to talk to Misha and tell him you’re staying in Chicago as Underboss.
You know the lay of the land. You know the ins and outs of the club and the riverboat.
And your relationship with the Romanos isn’t as tainted as mine—at least not with Lucky.
You’ll be able to build from there and earn their trust, while also making sure the Bratva thrives in Chicago. ”
“Okay?” Kostya says warily. “And if I’m doing all that, what the fuck will you be doing?”
“I’ll be in San Francisco,” I reply. “With my new wife.”
Kostya’s eyes go wide instantly.
“You have got to be shitting me,” he explodes. “You’re really going through with that inane idea of Misha’s? You’re just going to offer yourself up to the Triad like that?”
“I am,” I answer, my voice empty of all emotion.
“Are you insane?!” he shouts, throwing his arms up and pacing back and forth. “You’ve really lost it. This is the vodka talking. You don’t mean any of this. Tomorrow you’ll forget this idiotic plan ever existed.”
“I won’t.”
“Yes, you will!” he shouts. “You have to. You belong in Chicago! You belong with…” But he doesn’t finish the sentence, though I can read it just fine in his pleading gaze.
That I belong with Stella.
But there’s where Kostya is wrong. There is no room for me in her life. And worst of all I know that if I lived in the same city as her, I would falter. I’m too weak when it comes to her. All it would take is one look…one single look…and I’d be on my knees, begging her to take me back.
I can’t do that to her. Or to myself.
This suffering needs to end somehow.
If Stella’s life will be ruled by duty, then why can’t mine?
“I’ve thought long and hard about this, Kostya,” I say quietly. “And I’ve made up my mind.”
My baby brother looks at me with that pitying expression again, and it stabs straight through my chest. So deep that I have to drop my gaze from his just to escape it.
“If you do this, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
A small, disheartened chuckle slips from me as I lift my eyes back to his.
“My life is already full of regrets. What’s one more?”
I grab the vodka bottle and my sunglasses and move to pass him, but Kostya catches my arm, stopping me cold in my tracks.
“Kill, please… don’t fucking do this,” he pleads.
“Just talk to her. Go home and talk to your woman. This… this misery can all be avoided with one good conversation. I know it can. She loves you, Kill. And you love her. Just… fucking talk this shit out. And whatever’s tearing you apart, I know you’ll find a way to stop it. ”
This time, I’m the one who looks at Kostya with pity.
Maybe if I talked to Stella, we could fix us. But the underlying truth would still remain.
Stella will never reach her true potential with me in her life. And I love her too much to be the thing that holds her back.
She will always be an Outfit princess.
And I will always be a Bratva prince.
There was never a world where we could truly exist together, and I was a fool to ever believe I could build one for us.
“You can’t marry Lily Sun, Kill. You can’t,” Kostya says desperately. “I don’t care how pissed Misha will be. You can’t marry a woman you don’t love.”
“I’ve already decided,” I deadpan. “Tomorrow I’ll tell Misha to start putting everything in motion. I’ll go to San Francisco and marry her. The Triad and the Bratva will become one, little brother. And there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
“It will kill her when she finds out,” he mutters softly, twisting the knife already buried in my heart.
“Probably,” I swallow hard. “But it’ll also make her even more of a force of nature than she already is. This…what I’m doing… is a gift, Kostya. A gift to set her free.” I meet his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Won’t you give me the same gift, brother? Don’t I deserve to be set free too?”
“Do you honestly believe that marrying some stranger will stop you from loving Stella?”
No. The word clogs in my throat.
I know it won’t. But I have to try something. I can’t keep living like this either.
I don’t have time to answer Kostya’s loaded question since that’s when we hear something crash against the kitchen floor. We both turn around to find Kira frozen in the doorway, pale as a ghost, the shattered remains of a lemonade pitcher scattered at her feet.
“I…I’m…sorry,” she murmurs softly. “It just slipped.”
Kostya forces a smile and hurries for the broom. “No worries, Frankie. Here, let me get this cleaned up for you. There’s a fresh batch of lemonade in the fridge.”
Kira keeps her eyes down as she moves to the refrigerator, her hands trembling as she pulls out the pitcher.
“Are you okay, plemyannitsa?” I ask, my brow lifting.
“Yes, I’m fine, Uncle,” she says with a fragile smile that never quite reaches her eyes.
I wonder how long Kira had been standing there listening to Kostya and me. Had she heard about my plan to go to San Francisco?
Hmm.
No matter. By this time tomorrow, the news will be out anyway. After I talk to Misha, I’m sure he’ll announce it over dinner.
But I still have today.
And today, I intend to get drunk and pretend that I’m not about to sign my life away to the Triad in the morning.
Today, I can still pretend my home is in Chicago.
With her.
With my Stella.
“You look uncharacteristically sober this morning,” Misha observes sarcastically once I’ve stepped into his office.
It’s true. I haven’t had a drop to drink, knowing he’d only take me seriously if I was a hundred percent present and sober.
“May we talk, Pakhan?”
That’s all it takes for my brother’s features to harden. The boss replaces the brother in an instant.
“Sit,” he orders, nodding toward the chair in front of his desk.
I obey, lowering myself into the seat, my expression deadly serious.
“What is it that you want, Kirill?” he asks, annoyance clear in his voice.
That’s on me. I haven’t exactly given him many reasons to be patient or even happy with me these past months. But hopefully after this talk, I’ll fall back on his good graces.
“I’m here to tell you I’ve thought long and hard about your proposition.”
“And what proposition is that?” he counters, leaning back and lacing his fingers together just beneath his chin.
“My arranged marriage to the Triad girl.”
My brother doesn’t move a muscle. When he remains silent, I continue.
“I will accept it. I’ll marry Wei Sun’s granddaughter.”
“Funny,” he says coolly, not a hint of amusement in his expression. “As I recall, I made no such proposition. It was an order.”
I swallow. “Yes. And I’m here to tell you that I’ll fully comply with it and any other order you give me.”
He studies me in silence for a long, brutal moment before speaking again.
“You’re too late. I already made the call to Sun Wei last night and offered up Kostya to take your place instead.”
“What?!” I blurt out in outrage. “Why would you—”
“Why would I do what?” he cuts me off. “Offer Wei the better brother? I would have thought the decision obvious. Kostya has shown great growth in his time with you in Chicago. He’s more than capable of handling San Francisco on his own. Of that, I have no doubt.”
“No!” I surge to my feet. “You can’t force Kostya to marry that girl.”
“Funny,” Misha repeats the odd word coldly, “because that’s exactly what I just did.”
“But you said that I—”
He cuts me off again, this time by raising his hand.
“You are no longer fit for the role,” he says flatly. “These past two months have shown me that you are incapable of meeting my demands. No, Kirill. It will be Kostya taking your place.”
His gaze sharpens, cutting straight through me.
“Besides, I’m not forcing Kostya into anything.
He came to me last night on his own volition, and I accepted his terms gladly since I have more faith in our younger brother than I do in you these days.
That alone should tell you something. I don’t know what’s going on with you but you’d better wake up and start acting like the Bratva underboss you are.
Fail to do that…” His voice drops. “And you and I will have words. My patience has its limits, Kirill. And you have been testing it far too frequently for my liking.”
The rug beneath my feet is yanked out so violently I can’t even find my balance, much less my words.
Why would Kostya do this?
Why would he sacrifice himself like this?
Why?
But I don’t have to think very long for the answer.
Kostya sacrificed himself for me.
He willingly threw himself on the sword for my happiness—or at least the idea of it. He still believes there’s a way for me and Stella to be together. And to prove it, he offered himself up as tribute to our Pakhan’s demands.
My vision blurs as hot tears sting my eyes.
Fuck, Kostya. Why did you have to go and do that shit for?
Here I was, ready to live a life where duty was my only reason for breathing and my baby brother had to go and ruin it. Had to remind me that some things are still worth fighting for.
A brother’s happiness.
A woman’s heart.
The little shit is determined to teach me a lesson on love and sacrifice, isn’t he?
For the first time in what feels like an eternity, a small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
But it’s quickly extinguished by a sharp cry echoing from outside Misha’s office.
“Elena!” Misha shouts, already on his feet and racing out of the office, the instant he recognizes his wife’s voice.
I rush out behind him and find Elena standing in the foyer, a radiant smile on her face and a pool of water at her feet.
“Misha, my love,” she breathes, glowing. “Call Doctor Sokolov. Our baby is coming.”