Chapter 21 - Avit
My ears perked up when I heard her footsteps on the stairs.
I stood in the kitchen, shoulders tensed, palms digging into the countertop.
I had been glaring at an empty glass on the counter next to a bottle of vodka.
I forced myself to stay where I was, my jaw locked so fucking tight I thought it was going to shatter.
Then it came. The soft click of the front door, shutting behind her, ending whatever inkling of a connection we once shared.
I stayed where I was for a moment, but my body betrayed me, dragging me to the window like a damn fool. I watched her walk across the yard toward the gate, her shoulders stiff, her head high like she wasn’t leaving behind something worth looking at.
I waited…
God, I waited…for her to glance back.
Just once.
Just enough for me to know that she didn’t actually want to go. That this was grief, not rejection. That she needed space, not distance.
But Ms. Romonoff never looked back.
No hesitation, not a damn blunder in her step.
Then I noticed something. She only had her knapsack and the small duffel bag her clothes came in when she moved in here. Is that how badly she wanted to forget about me? About us? She left everything I purchased for her behind?
I had gotten my answer.
I texted Wexler, fingers hitting the screen harder than necessary: Ms. Romonoff is no longer your responsibility. Last task: see her safely to wherever she’s going. After that, she’s out of my life.
Ten minutes later, he confirmed she was picked up by Mandy, and he was following them.
She was gone.
Whatever she did with her life now was none of my fucking business anymore.
I knew this day would come. It was inevitable. She made her choice to get away from me, and I would return the favor.
She wanted distance?
She wanted out?
She wanted her freedom?
Fine.
I walked towards the office. Each step echoed louder as the walls stretched around me, empty and hollow. Everything felt colder, quieter…fucking wrong. This house had been a home for a short moment. Our home.
But the warmth left with her. And I was a fool to think it could’ve stayed.
The only thing left now was to sign the fucking divorce papers to cut that last string tying us together.
I froze by the office door, seeing the two laptops on the table and the two chairs behind it. Images of the numerous hours we'd spent there together hunting Oskar slammed into me.
Fuck!
I couldn’t breathe in the house anymore.
I grabbed my keys from my desk, stalked to my car, and peeled away.
If she didn’t want a place in my life, then she sure as hell wouldn’t get a place in my head.
I needed something else to fill my mind. I sped towards Drakon.
It was going to be a long fucking night.
As minutes bled into hours and hours into days, I refused to step foot in that fucking house. If I needed anything, I texted Wexler, and he handled it. I wasn’t going back, not even to breathe the same air she used to.
I holed up in one of our hotels, ordering the staff to keep their mouths shut. No records. No one was to know I was there. If I stayed up at Drakon or headquarters the entire night, my brothers would sense something was off. And I wasn’t giving them a damn thing to speculate about.
Not when I couldn’t sleep. Not when I spent the nights staring at an untouched glass and a bottle of vodka, reminding myself that spiraling wasn’t an option. Losing control wasn’t an option. Weakness wasn’t an option.
Not for a Safin.
Not for me.
I’d made that mistake once already. I wasn’t going down that road again.
Wexler notified me when Ms. Romonoff retrieved her father’s body. She held a small memorial, barely anyone showed, then had him cremated. She returned to the dorms with Mandy. Back to the life she wanted. The life she chose over me.
Fine. So be it.
My life was better without her, anyway. I was able to focus on what mattered: Keeping the faction financially stable and powerful.
I shook my head as I walked into headquarters, laptop in hand, and headed straight for the conference room. I was two hours early for the meeting, but I didn’t give a shit.
Work was the only thing that didn’t leave.
The only thing that made sense.
Numbers didn't lie.
And for the past seven days, it was the only thing I drowned myself in.
Exactly two hours later, the conference room door opened, and my brothers entered the room, but they weren't alone. They came with their wives, our sisters, the children, and the Rykov men.
“Where's Sienna?” Mariya asked, arms folded, brow raised.
“Tone, Mariya,” I glared at her.
I fucking took care of my younger siblings after our parents were assassinated. There was no way she was going to barge in here and demand anything from me.
“I'm sorry,” she said as she made her way towards me and sat next to me while the others filled the other seats around the table.
“She removed herself from our group chat, and when we tried calling, we realized she'd blocked all of us,” Mariya said.
“And Artyom and I went to your house before we came here,” Ninel added.
I tensed.
“We were told that she wasn't at home,” she finished.
Artyom picked up from where she left off. “So we made our way to the campus.”
“And when she saw us, she spun the other way and literally ran, Avit,” Ninel said.
I looked at the men and women around the table, eyes narrowed.
“To the married couples sitting around this table, have I ever interfered with any of your relationships?”
No one said a word.
“I'll take your silence as a resounding no. I didn't realize that getting married gave any of you the privilege to butt into my private affairs.”
“Avit,” Lev said. “You know we're not butting in for the sake of being nosy. We thought you guys were happy. The women love her, and so do we.”
“We're worried, and we just want to know what happened,” Jaroslav stated.
“And we're here to help if you need us,” Pyotr added.
I rose from my chair and buttoned my jacket. “Ms. Romonoff and I are getting a divorce. Now, if there isn't anything else, I'll be leaving, because I have work to do. I didn't realize that this meeting was an intervention in disguise.”
I grabbed my laptop, exited the building, and made my way to the hotel.
Twenty minutes later, I walked into my hotel room and dropped the laptop on the sofa. I barely had time to exhale before there was a knock on the door.
Bloody fucking hell.
I should’ve known someone would track me.
I checked the peephole, then opened the door for Pyotr.
“Thanks,” he said as he stepped inside. “Thought I’d need to use this.” He flashed a key card before slipping it back into his pocket.
He sank into the sofa, arm thrown across the back, his piercing blue eyes pinning me in place.
“So,” he said. “Why are you and Sienna getting a divorce?”
I dropped into the opposite sofa, jaw ticking. “You of all people should be thrilled. Didn’t you tell me she’d betray me? That she’d choose her father over me?”
“I’m not apologizing for looking out for my brother,” Pyotr shot back. “But we both know you love her. Or at least you like her.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint everyone,” I said coldly. “Ms. Romonoff was a means to an end…Jasper’s end.”
“I call bullshit.”
“When I confronted Jasper about the stolen goods, he told me I could have Sienna to pay off his debt.”
“What the fuck….”
“So I married her. To keep Jasper in line. And because she’s a genius on a keyboard, one of the best I’ve seen.
We had a deal. She’d help me find who Jasper was supplying, and once that was done, we'd get a divorce.” ” My voice dropped.
“She gave me the final pieces the same night Jasper was killed. She walked out that same night.”
Pyotr stared at me, disbelief flashing across his face. “You let her leave the night she found out her father was murdered?”
“It was her decision,” I snapped. “We had a deal. I honored it. And now I’m the bad guy?”
Pyotr was silent for a moment. Then, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “So tell me what you found.”
By the time I finished giving Pyotr the rundown on Oskar, his eyes had gone dark and murderous.
“Oskar killed Jasper,” he said. “Don’t you think he’ll go after Sienna next?”
“Why would he?” I countered. “He doesn’t know she hacked the system.”
“You think he won’t figure it out? That she’s Jasper’s daughter? That she’s getting a damn master’s in IT? That something was going on between you two? Especially after Wexler tailed her to class every damn day?”
“She chose to walk away,” I said with a shrug, but my shoulder felt like it weighed a ton.
Pyotr exploded. “Are you even fucking listening to yourself? She could be in danger. Oskar isn’t some normal business prick; he’s Bratva.
He’s a problem, Avit. A lethal one. He lost money when Rinaldi died, lost protection, and he just killed Jasper.
We know it. He knows we know it. And he sure as hell knows we’re going to dig until we find something that justifies him putting a bullet in one of our fucking men. ”
“There’s nothing more I can do for Ms. Romonoff,” I snapped. “She’s no longer my wife. No longer under my protection. I got what I needed. That’s all that matters.”
Pyotr shot up to his feet, fists balled tightly.
“You’re a real piece of work, Avit. A fucking asshole.”
Slowly, I rose too, stepping right into his space until our noses were almost touching.
“You’re right, Pyotr. I am an asshole, like every other Bratva man. But I’m also your brother. And I can forget that real fucking quickly if you ever speak to me like that again. Now get out.”
He leveled a final glare at me before stalking toward the door.
When his hand hit the handle, my voice iced over the room. “And Pyotr…whatever was said here stays here. Understand?”
He gave a stiff nod, then he left.
The moment the door shut, I headed straight for the minibar—the glass, and the fucking vodka.