26. Valentin
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
VALENTIN
My fingers tap a steady beat against the wooden table, a sign of my impatience rather than any nervousness, as I wait for the Pakhan to accept my retirement terms. “Are you sure about this?” Andrei asks, his eyes glaring into mine with uncertainty.
I’ve decided to step down from the Coalition, but only if he grants me the freedom to make my exit in accordance with the proposal I just gave him, because there’s no other option. “I’m sure.”
Andrei nods to me, lips pressed into a grim line.
As I lean back in the chair, my jaw is tight, keeping what I know to myself—for now.
“War is coming,” Andrei declares, his Russian accent becoming more pronounced with his anger. “We are under siege by our own fucking people.”
He gives me one final glance, as if hoping to find a signal that I might reconsider. I turn my gaze away. “Petrov is becoming more audacious. He continues to underestimate us.”
My thoughts shift to his intentions regarding Lexi.
Nikolai leans forward, his arms firmly on the table, his piercing gaze surveying the room.
“Fucking thief!” he growls. “When we find him, I’ll make sure that we hit hard enough for the kill,” Nikolai laughs, aware that his legacy thrives on instilling fear and destroying anyone who stands in his way.
“Have we found Petrov yet?” Andrei questions, his eyes focused on me and his voice tinged with disappointment.
“Not yet. He’s hiding underground,” I reply.
He examines me intently, his eyes probing for any signs of weakness like a doctor seeking a viable vein. “Maybe you’re not looking hard enough, Brigadier.”
A wave of unease creeps down my spine at Andrei’s questioning of my loyalty. “You think I’m not trying?”
“You’ve grown weak, old man. You couldn’t even bring yourself to kill a little girl who kidnapped you,” he snickers, his words land between us like a grenade with a pin pulled.
I close my eyes, forcing the image of Lexi away. I need to focus, to get my head back in the game.
He studies me, his head tilted ever so slightly. “I think it’s time for a change.”
There’s an unsettling chill in his tone that grips me—a stark sense of finality. A decision has already been made.
Right then, my son Daniel steps into the conference room, lingering at the open door with a tight grip on the handle, clearly uncertain about taking a seat.
I slam my fist on the table. “You can’t do this!” I snap, knowing Andrei’s purpose of bringing him here today.
Andrei stands and strides to the window, gazing out over the city while deliberately dismissing my tantrum as if it never happened. He then turns back to me, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes distant, almost reflective.
My blood runs cold, and my hands tremble under the heavy weight settling in my chest. The realization that the Pakhan no longer needs me.
“I have served the Bratva for over thirty years,” I roar, loud enough so everyone hears me.
“And we thank you for that,” Andrei replies, pacing the room, visibly agitated. It’s a side of him I rarely witness and hope not to see again anytime soon.
“Look around the room, Brigadier. A new era is dawning in the Bratva. It’s time for you and your generation to hand over the reins. Happens to all of us in time. Even you know that.”
My gaze shifts first to Dmitri and Nikolai, both in their twenties and already making their mark as leaders. Finally, I glance at my son Daniel, still standing by the door, poised and ready to take his place.
Andrei halts his pacing, stopping in front of me. We lock eyes, two predators asserting dominance. “Valentin, you’re dismissed!”
Words from my own godson that I never imagined I would hear.
I leap to my feet, the chair clattering to the ground behind me as I strike the table relentlessly with my knuckles. “I was leading the Bratva long before you were ever born, you bastard!”
Surveying the men in the room, I find that the family I considered mine now turns against me as formidable foes.
“You can’t get rid of me this easily, motherfucker!” I grab the chair I was sitting in and hurl it against the wall, then I charge toward Andrei with my fist raised. But Nikolai seizes my arms and shoves me back. I stumble, and when I look up, a gun is leveled at my face.
I quickly regain my composure, straightening my tie and suit jacket while sweeping my hair back with my fingers.
My son grabs my arms, pressing his finger into my sleeve to hold me back. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
I walk out without saying another word, the door snapping shut behind me. The decision weighs heavily in my chest, unyielding. I find myself in the hallway, transformed into someone else from the man who entered just a short while ago. I am no longer in control of the Bratva.
I scan the room, acutely aware that the Savin Corporation employees heard every word. They look at me, heavy with unspoken judgment.
As I approach the receptionist’s desk, the seemingly friendly girl picks up the phone, pretending to engage in a conversation, but her lips remain sealed.
I wait for the elevator, pulling out a bottle from my pocket. I take two pills, swallowing them quickly while focusing on my breathing, hoping to ease the relentless pain in my chest.
The elevator door slides open, and Elise emerges, cradling her son as she balances his weight. With a resigned sigh, she slips off her jacket, the unmistakable evidence of the baby’s spit-up staining her top.
“Where the fuck were you?” I demand, stepping closer to her.
“Demyan is sick. I took him to the doctor,” she replies, her eyes wide with worry. “What’s going on?” she asks, sounding as if this wasn’t her plan all along.
“I am no longer a Brigadier,” I say, my frustration clear as I press my finger against her chest.
The baby starts to cry softly, clearly shaken by my abrupt voice.
“Brigadier,” Elise whispers, her wide eyes darting nervously to the onlookers gathered around. “Valentin.”
I smirk, unbothered. I don’t care if they fucking hear me. They’re nothing to me.
Approaching cautiously, I’m fully aware of the influence she wields. “You promised to help me,” I remind her, gripping her arm firmly.
She maintains eye contact and mirrors my posture. “This is for your own good. Now, go home, Brigadier.” Her voice softens into a compelling, almost dangerous whisper. “You know what you need to do now.”
I step into the elevator and pause to glance back. Elise is still standing there, cradling her cranky baby, her hair swaying gently with the movement. For the first time, I notice a tattoo on her left shoulder—a small coffee cup. It’s a detail I’ve never noticed before.
As the door begins to close, I stop it, catching her attention. “She’s your sister,” I growl, frustrated that I didn’t realize this earlier. “Lexi Summer is Alexis Walsh.”
She locks her gaze onto mine, the truth concealed behind her eyes. “That’s why she isn’t part of the deal. She’s mine,” she scowls, biting back defiantly.
I incline my head in a short nod, fully aware of our agreement.
Once the door closes behind her and I’m left in silence, I fight back the lump in my throat, finally grasping that Petrov’s assault on Lexi was merely a ploy to strike at the Savins.
If you can’t kill Elise directly, then target someone she cares about instead.
Lexi is the vulnerable link—just an innocent little sister trapped in a dangerous game she never chose to play.