Chapter 15 #2
The Petrovs would need to be driven out of the city in order for us to maintain our superiority. If that didn’t happen, my father’s soldiers would be gunned down one by one, their families exterminated in whatever method the Petrovs saw as necessary.
With Michail gone, Ivan had taken over the estate, as well as interim duties handling the affairs of the organization. An unusual move, but one I couldn’t argue with. I wasn’t here to reclaim the house or the would-be throne, merely to right a wrong.
As I walked into the living room, I could see a combination of emotions from anger to relief.
In my hand was an assault rifle. I wasn’t taking any chances, nor did I want them to think I’d grown weak in my absence.
There was instant quiet in the oversized space, although very little of it was about respect.
However, they needed guidance and that’s what was about to occur.
“Bitva idet na nas.” By stating the fight was upon us, I would be able to tell the men who were prepared to take this seriously. To my surprise, the majority nodded. “My srazhayemsya do smerti.”
We fight to the death.
Several of the men raised their weapons in salute, their husky grunts affirmation.
“And just what does the pretty boy American think he is going to do against the Petrovs?” The question came from a man who’d been loyal to my brother over the years.
Viktor had been in the Bratva for at least fifteen years.
He’d never fully appreciated the power of the Federov family. He would now or he would die.
“We will succeed,” I stated in English. “Even if it means bringing death to the city.”
“You’d risk your brother’s life for power?” Viktor continued, the others around him nodding in appreciation.
“My brother has betrayed all of us. He will accept his punishment.” I kept my glare pointed in his direction, making certain he understood what was at stake.
“Ty predatel,” he hissed. “You are nothing to us. You have no power, your abilities sucked away by the American fools.”
I suspected many thought I was the betrayer.
“Dimitri Petrov has been eliminated.” The news was exactly what needed to be stated. “I assure you that his soul is roasting in hell.”
While the look on Viktor’s face remained full of fury, the others seemed to understand the ramifications of what had been told to them.
“Tonight. Be prepared.” I locked eyes with every man, finally turning my attention to Ivan. His smile was almost a reward. This was exactly what needed to happen.
As I walked outside, Viktor followed. I sensed his presence and turned, prepared for a fight.
“You need to hear this,” he stated, the defiance from earlier shifting into an entirely different emotion, one that wasn’t easily read.
But it was something I knew needed to be taken seriously.
* * *
There were some who said that revenge was the sweetest reward. In my past, I would have agreed with the sentiment. At this point in my life, I’d grown far too weary of blood wars. Even if the battle was necessary, the loss of life continued to weigh heavily on my mind.
The information Ivan had provided as to the whereabouts of Petrov’s soldiers had been correct.
Within hours, dozens of them had been eliminated.
While we suffered losses, I was proud of the men who’d served my father for years, some of them decades.
Perhaps this would end the ugly battle for years to come.
Now I stood on the street, glancing up at the full moon. Blood covered my shirt, dirt and grime slathered against my naked skin. I took deep breaths before lifting my arms, releasing a loud bellow into the night sky.
The message had been sent.
The Federov family would never fall to the tyranny of the Petrovs. Now it was time to finish the hunt for my brother and I knew exactly how that was going to occur. While I’d seen no sign of Michail, my instincts told me everything I needed to know.
The information Viktor had provided weighed heavily on my mind.
As Ivan approached, I lowered my weapon, still searching the darkness for any sign of survivors.
“You are your father, Sacha, a true warrior.”
A warrior.
Maxim had been dead set on ensuring that I’d be ready for battle no matter the circumstances.
Perhaps his harsh discipline and required training had been necessary after all.
Blood had rained in the streets of Moscow, yet no innocent lives had been lost. I’d made certain of that fact.
My decisions had sent Sergei Petrov a final message.
Get the fuck out.
Laughing softly, I tipped my head in his direction. “My name is Nikolai Lenkov. Sacha no longer exists. However, let it be known that anyone who crosses the Federov Empire will meet their maker.” As I started to walk away, Ivan cleared his throat.
“Where are you going?”
I stopped short, thinking about how to respond. “I’m paying my respects.”
He gave me a wry smile. “Understood.”
“Then I’m going to return to my life.”
“This is your life, Sacha, the one your father created.”
Shooting him a look over my shoulder, I took a deep breath.
“Not any longer.” I stared at him, giving him a slight smile.
“It’s interesting, Ivan. I lost everything I’d cared about in a matter of a few weeks, forced to find another place that I hoped I could eventually call home.
However, I did come to the realization that I’d been lucky to have a friend like you, a man determined to help me stay alive. ”
“That was important to me, Sacha. I mean, Nikolai. That was something your father would have wanted.”
“Perhaps.”
I walked off into the darkness, the gun still in my hand. I was finished with betrayal.
* * *
Rain.
I’d always loved rainfall, the silent drops falling slowly to the earth creating a serene environment.
However, the dark and tumultuous clouds that had formed overhead indicated a severe storm approaching.
Even the wind was whipping across my face as I headed up the grassy knoll.
When I reached the top, I took a deep breath, staring off in the distance for a full minute.
This was a place of reverence, a quiet time meant to reflect.
As thunder rolled in the distance, I was reminded that this would be the last time I’d set foot on such hallowed ground.
The location was devoid of other mourners and I’d never felt so alone in my entire life.
While it had been years since I’d visited the final resting place of my father, his gravestone wasn’t difficult to find.
Sadly, a combination of graffiti splashed across the thick stone as well as dead flowers adorning the ground beneath were yet another reminder that my father had been as hated as adored.
I wasn’t a religious man, had never accepted faith as a healing concept. But today I gave the sign of the cross in my honor to the fallen man. He’d provided me with a home as well as a good life, at least as much as he’d known how to provide.
When I knelt down, it was the closest I’d felt to him since his death.
A single shiver shifted down my spine. I could almost feel his presence.
After pushing aside the withered flowers, I placed the single blood-red rose in the center, touching the petals.
No words came to my mind, no statement that seemed appropriate.
I’d attempted to exact my revenge, yet I’d failed.
I closed my eyes, allowing the moment of reverence to continue. Then a single sound erupted my few minutes of peace.
However, it was one I’d been planning on.
After taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet, turning around slowly.
It had been years since I’d seen Sergei Petrov, the last meeting he’d had with my father almost ending in violence.
The smirk on his face indicated he truly believed he’d won the war.
To him, losing dozens of his soldiers meant nothing. All human life was expendable.
I wasn’t surprised to see Michail by his side.
I folded my hands in front of me, shifting my gaze from my brother into Sergei’s eyes.
The years hadn’t been good to the older man, the wars he’d continued to fight aging him significantly.
Yet he stood with a wry smile on his face, as if he’d beaten me.
As if he was ready to end my life.
The silence and tension between us were palpable, but I refused to offer the first comment.
“Ty ochen’ pokhozh na svoyego ottsa,” Sergei finally said, laughing after stating the words.