20. Titus
TITUS
I’m not going to lock Sofia up this time. Maybe it’s out of pity for her loss or maybe it just seems like she’s been punished enough. Whatever the reason, it just doesn’t seem right to do so now.
I walked her up to her room and now I’m standing in her doorway while she slumps onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. The urge to join her, wrap her up in my arms while she mourns, is so great. If she asked it of me, I couldn’t deny her.
She doesn’t. Instead, she lies in bed, sniffling for a few moments before saying aloud, “Leave me alone, please.”
I don’t press the issue. I step out of the room and close the door, leaving it unlocked.
This isn’t how I envisioned any of this in the beginning. I feel like everything has been turned upside down. Killing Adam Aristov was supposed to be a moment of triumph. Or at least something I could torture Sofia with before I killed her.
It was never supposed to be an act of pity. I stand at the closed door, listening to her sobs through the wood. She’s in more pain than I ever could have given her right now… and I wish like hell that I could take it away.
I walk away. She needs time to grieve. And I need time to think.
This entire thing has gone out of control significantly, and I’m not even very sure when the direction of the pendulum changed. It has, however. And now I have to figure out what comes next.
I go to my study and make myself a drink.
Cyril witnessed the killing and, more importantly, me comforting Sofia.
That is a problem. A big one. I know the message that was sent by his seeing that.
It probably confirmed every rumor that’s been swimming around the brotherhood about me. The great Titus Malkin has gone soft.
Many a Pakhan have fallen for less. I pour a shot of vodka and drink it down, then pour another. I could spend time worrying about it, I suppose. I guess I will when it becomes necessary to.
For now, I need to take care of Sofia. The rest can wait in the meantime.
A week has passed and Sofia has had free reign over the house, not that she’s taken much advantage.
When I do see her during the day, she seems like a ghost drifting through the halls.
Her hair is slightly mussed and she’s usually in one of her nightgowns or her pajamas.
She hasn’t spoken to me outside of requests for food.
Well, once she asked to sit in the garden with Luka.
Other than that, she’s been silently moving through the house as if she were walking around in another realm.
I’ve never had any siblings, but I know exactly where she is.
I felt the same way when Angela died. I moved through my world on autopilot until Ignat shook me out of my daze by challenging me to a boxing match at the gym.
Can’t really do that with Sofia. Or, I don’t know, maybe I can.
I’m sure she would give me one hell of a fight.
I’m sitting in my living room, drinking a glass of whiskey, thinking about it all and silently worrying about what comes next. The rest of the brotherhood has been silent enough these past seven days, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t trouble brewing.
The doorbell rings and one of my staff answers it. A moment later, Ignat appears before me wearing a black trenchcoat over his suit. It has beads of water on the shoulders, telling of the rain that’s started a little while ago. He looks at me and his shoulders sink. “So, this is how I find you.”
I glance down at the glass of brown alcohol in my hands. The ice is melting a little too quickly for my tastes. “This is how you find me,” I repeat back to him.
“Well, you certainly don’t look like a man who’s conquered his enemy. Well… most of his enemies, anyway.”
I take a drink, then, “Is there something you want?”
“There is. I have some very important information for you. There are some things happening that you ought to know about.”
I sigh and sit up, setting the half filled glass of whiskey on my coffee table. “Let me guess. Cyril is riling up the troops against me.”
Ignat scoffs. “So you haven’t completely lost your mind, then.”
“Is that what they’re saying about me? That I’ve gone crazy?”
“Either that or you’ve gone soft.” Ignat takes off his coat and lays it over one of the chairs in the room before sitting down next to me. “Neither is good, Titus.”
“No, it isn’t.” I twist the glass around in a slow circle as we contemplate the problem in silence.
“May I ask you something? As a friend? Not a subordinate?”
I glance over at him to see he’s looking at me with a very serious expression. Much more serious than normal. “Sure,” I say. “Ask away.”
“Have you crossed the line with the Aristov woman?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “What I mean is… You said that you were just using her. Has that changed?”
It’s an interesting question. One I’ve been asking myself this whole time. I take a drink without answering.
“It’s just that… She is the daughter of your sworn enemy.
We’ve been preparing for years to wipe out the Penzas and we’ve finally succeeded.
Leaving Aristov’s daughter alive in order to use her for sexual pleasures…
Well, that’s one thing. No one would argue that it’s your right to collect the spoils of war. But if what Cyril is saying is true—”
“Her brother was begging for death,” I tell him.
“He was begging her to shoot him. Now, I realize that we’re supposed to be cold-blooded killers, but even you would agree that being asked to kill your own brother isn’t a cakewalk.
Especially if you actually love him and especially if you’ve never had to do it before. ”
“Right.” He pauses, glancing at my glass of whiskey. “So you did it for her.”
“Yeah.” I finish the contents of my glass. We go silent for another few seconds as it sinks in with Ignat. “Want me to get you a drink?”
“Please,” he says.
I get up and walk over to the mini bar in the corner of the room, taking out another glass and looking for the whiskey. Probably shouldn’t bother with ice this time.
“They are going to organize against you,” Ignat says. “If it were Cyril alone, I wouldn’t be that concerned. But his brother is a respected, high-ranking man in this Bratva. Cyrus is one of your top brigadiers. If he decides to rise against you—”
“I know.” I walk back over and hand him his drink. “It’s quite a fucking predicament, isn’t it? All because I showed compassion to my enemy.”
Ignat takes a sip from his glass, then he says, “It’s a little more than that and you know it.”
I think about Sofia in her room at the moment, still wrestling with the loss of her brother and probably everything else that’s happened leading up to it. Had this happened in the beginning, I doubt I would feel her pain so thoroughly. But now…
“So here’s my thought,” Ignat says. “The way I see it, you only have a few options. You could go to her right now and kill her. Maybe that will convince the others that you are still our Pakhan above all.”
“And what are the other options?”
He sighs. “You could have a meeting with Cyril and Cyrus in particular. Instead of bringing this to the entire Bratva. Try to nip this whole thing in the bud. If you can convince them to back off, you might be able to put out the fire before it really gets going.”
I nod. Neither of those options sound like good ones, but the latter at least sounds feasible. “Anything else?”
Ignat thinks about it for a few seconds, then, “You could always pack it all up and abdicate. If you elect me as Pakhan, I might be able to stave them off long enough for you to get off the continent, at least.”
I look at him curiously. “Cyrus and Cyril would kill you within a day if that happened. That’s not much of a head start.”
He sighs, knowing I’m right. Ignat is an adequate fighter and he’s a well-trained strategist, but he’s nowhere near either twin’s level. He’d honestly be a terrible Pakhan. They would eat him alive.
He smiles and shrugs at me. “So, then, maybe use that option as a last resort.”
“Right,” I say.
“There is a fourth option,” he says. “In the past when Pakhans have suspected mutiny, they have been known to clean house. You could do that.”
“Cyrus and Cyril are among my top soldiers,” I say to him. “If I fail at wiping them out along with the dissenters, then it would turn into a full civil war.”
Ignat drinks his drink. “We’re probably headed for that anyway. At least you’d have some level of control over how it happens.”
“Sure. Until I lose it.” I down the rest of my drink and stand up. “Call both Cyrus and Cyril. Tell them to meet me here this afternoon. I’m going to try diplomacy first.”
“Yes, sir,” Ignat says.
It’s about ten minutes before they’re due to arrive, so I go and check in on Sofia in her room.
When I open the door, she’s standing at the window, watching something outside.
She’s dressed today. That’s a good sign.
She’s wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans, her dark hair tied back into a ponytail.
She’s even wearing a little bit of makeup around her eyes. She almost looks like herself again.
“Sofia?”
She turns her head to me in acknowledgement but returns her gaze back to the window. “Is something going on?”
“What do you mean?”
She frowns a little and looks back out the window. “I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve got more guards walking around the grounds, that’s all.”
“I’ve tightened security a little,” I tell her. “Nothing earth shattering.”
She pauses. “It’s because of what happened with Adam, right? Because you showed pity.”
“You shouldn’t worry about that,” I tell her. “It’s not important.”
She gives me another brief look, then leaves the window. “Right.”
“I’m about to go into a meeting. If you need me…” I have to pause. What can I say? What do I say? After a second, I sigh and finish the thought. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
She regards me carefully, then, “Okay.”