Vadim
Iadjust my cuffs as I stand in the formal front drawing room. It faces the drive through tall windows, though the curtains stay half drawn, enough to observe.
Two guards stand inside the entrance. Two more are outside but out of sight. Another three cover the rear. I don’t need a small army. I need enough men to make the point without insulting Arseny before he opens his mouth.
Assuming he is coming here, since his scout failed in his mission to scare me into giving over Tai.
There’s no chance in hell that will ever happen. She is mine, and she will remain that way beyond the grave.
A dark Lexus with blacked-out windows pulls up sideways across the end of my driveway. I tilt my head, as there is only one visible.
Moving out of the drawing room, I reach the front door as Bogdan opens it, and I stride out across the red brick as the gates roll open.
Bogdan stays at my right. His hand remains free, jacket open, weapon visible enough to be rude but not rude enough to start a war.
The rear door opens.
Arseny Kaverin steps out alone, which immediately raises a red flag.
He is Baron’s age—which tracks— with a hard face and the kind of stillness that comes from surviving longer than his enemies expected. He wears a dark grey coat over a dark suit. No visible weapon. No visible fear. His stance is ex-FSB if I ever saw it, and I have… on Baron.
His driver remains behind the wheel.
Arseny looks at the house first, then at me. “Vadim Voronov. You know who I am?”
“I do.” I don’t bother with his name. He knows it.
His eyes flick to Bogdan and narrow. His head tilts and an expression crosses his face briefly, but it’s gone before I can decipher its meaning.
Bogdan doesn’t move.
“What brings you to my gate, Kaverin?”
“I came to stop a stupid man from starting a stupid war,” Arseny says.
“That narrows nothing down.”
His eyes stay on mine. “Ruslan Tarasov.”
I smile. “He isn’t here.”
“No. He is hiding.”
“From me?”
“From me.”
Now that has caught my attention.
Bogdan shifts half an inch. Arseny’s attention cuts to him again. This time, he holds it.
“I want to speak inside,” Arseny says, drawing his gaze back to mine.
“No.”
His gaze returns to me. “You make me stand in the rain?”
“You came to my house uninvited after your territory pinged on a message that sent Tarasov to my gates. You’re lucky you’re standing.”
The first real reaction passes over his face. Annoyance.
“Yes, that is why I am here.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t send Tarasov to you.”
“Someone using a burner did. That burner died near Kaverin ground.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
He looks past me toward the house. “Is she inside?”
My body goes still.
Bogdan’s hand moves closer to his jacket.
“Who is she to you? And don’t lie, because I’ve formed an educated guess, and I’m never wrong.”
“Does she know?”
“That you are her father? No. She thinks it could’ve been Mikhail.”
Arseny’s face tightens, anger forming quickly and dissipating. “He wishes,” he mutters.
“So my guess was accurate. Nice.” I give Bogdan a pleased smile, which he returns with a grunt. “Fair, it was obvious,” I tell him. Glancing back at Arseny, I ask, “So you did kill him?”
“He tried to take what was mine.”
“Tai’s mother.”
Arseny’s jaw hardens. “Yelena was never his.”
“But she was yours?”
“For a time.”
“That’s touching. Why did she run?” I study him. Rain dots his coat, his hair, the harsh lines of his face. He doesn’t look like a man meeting the man who has his daughter upstairs. He looks like a man standing in front of a grave he dug himself.
“She couldn’t handle the Bratva.”
“And you just let her.”
“I’m not in the business of holding onto women who want to leave. I made sure she was taken care of. I did not know she was pregnant. When I did find out, she told me the child wasn’t mine.”
“And you believed her?”
“I had no reason not to. Yelena was… free with her love.”
I snort. “Nice euphemism. What makes you think Taisiya is yours then?”
“She looks like my mother.”
I accept that.
I know what inherited blood looks like. I see Baron in the mirror sometimes. Family writes itself into faces, posture, instincts. Tai’s stubborn chin, the way she holds fear without letting it rule her, the way she reached for a knife when another person might have begged.
“So you aren’t a hundred per cent sure.”
“I don’t need to be. She’s mine.”
“Even if she’s not?”
He inclines his head. “A test would confirm it.”
“And that’s what you want? A DNA test? Why not just ask her instead of all this cloak and dagger?”
“No cloaks or daggers. I’m unarmed and standing at your doorstep asking to see her.”
“And Tarasov?”
“He made a grave error coming for her to repay a debt a dead man defaulted on.”
“So this is all one great big coincidence?”
Arseny’s expression hardens. “No.”
“Good. I was going to be disappointed.”
“Tarasov was told she was vulnerable. He was told the Melnikov debt could be collected before Voronov involvement made it impossible. He was told I would not interfere.”
“By whom?”
“That is what I intend to find out.”
“Of course.”
His eyes sharpen. “I came here instead of dragging Tarasov out of whatever hole he is hiding in because my daughter is in your house.”
“Possible daughter.”
“My daughter,” he repeats.
Bogdan lets out a low sound beside me. Not disagreement. Warning.
Arseny looks at him again, and this time his attention stays too long.
I take one step forward. “Stop looking at him.”
Arseny’s eyes return to mine. “He is familiar.”
“He’s a difficult man to forget.”
Bogdan remains impassive, but the air around him changes. Barely, but enough for me to notice.
I file that away for later. Bogdan is not the kind of man people recognise by accident. If Arseny knows him, there’s history there. I stare at him and frown. What am I missing? It feels like something. He stares back at me.
I draw my gaze away from Bogdan and back to Arseny. “Tell me why I shouldn’t send you away.”
“Because you need information, and I have some.”
“Talk.”
Arseny’s face stays controlled, but irritation moves through the set of his jaw when I still don’t invite him in. “You are exactly Baron’s blood.”
“I’ll decide if that’s an insult later.”
“It was an observation.”
“Those can be insults. Tarasov met with one of your lieutenants,” I say.
“He met with Pavel.”
“And Pavel is?”
“Pavel was loyal to Mikhail before he died.”
“Was.”
“Was. He changed his tune after he died and swore his loyalty to the Kaverin pakhan.”
“You.”
“Me.”
“Who was he?”
“Yelena’s brother.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Jesus.”
“Quite.”
“So why did he drag Tarasov into this?” His part in all of this is still not adding up fully.
“He has ambition outside of the family.”
I nod. I get that. It happens all the time. “So he was the power behind Tarasov, who was the money behind the Melnikovs. Bad move coming for my wife, though.”
“Your wife.”
“Taisiya is a Voronov now. Accepted by Baron and married to me.”
“I see.”
I wait for more, but he simply inclines his head and opens the car door. He slips inside, and the car is already moving before the door is closed.
“Well,” I huff. “That was anticlimactic.”
“But informative,” Bogdan states.
I turn to him. “Where does he know you from?”
Bogdan shrugs, and I leave it at that, heading back to the house, to my wife, with some answers, but yet more questions.