38. Carina
CARINA
We arrived at the main house, and I assumed this would need to be like any other meeting. All the Volkov leaders. And me.
As soon as Maksim parked, though, Elena rushed toward the car and reached for the passenger door to open it. If I were a pushover, she probably would have succeeded in yanking me out of my seat.
“Carina.”
“What?” I furrowed my brow at her frantic and thoroughly upset expression, a unique mixture of a frown and scowl. “What’s wrong? The baby? What is it?”
I got out and grunted as she wrapped her arms around me. “My God. Stop. Nothing’s wrong with me or the baby. I’m worried about you.”
Glancing at Maksim as he paused on the other side of the car, watching me as I stood there awkwardly, I raised my brows.
Wow.
I hadn’t expected this.
Slowly, I lowered my arms and hugged her back.
She was this worked up, this worried, because of me.
Because today was the day that my brother had to be executed.
I wasn’t going to break down again. Compartmentalizing my reaction and thoughts to Arturo’s death was a one-way street for me.
I wasn’t going to let her soften me into the state of sitting down and acting like we needed a shrink session of discussing feelings.
I’d already done that, bluntly, and with the one man who mattered most.
Maksim had helped me process the loss of who my brother could have been. Perhaps it was ironic since he’d killed him, but I wasn’t reverting to that mess of guilt and sorrow and anger and regret.
“I will be okay,” I told her. Still looking at Maksim as I rubbed her back and rested my cheek against her head, slightly taller than her, I locked my gaze on the man who knew I would be okay.
With his help. With hers. With this Bratva and the need for me to work for them as a strategist they’d never find anywhere else.
She lifted her face and frowned, then took my hand and led me toward the house.
“Carina, I fell into a deep pit of anger and this funky confusion of feeling lost and discarded and—” She huffed as she brought me into her home.
“I was a mess after my father was executed, and it’s not something to brush off in one day. ”
“I’m not brushing off anything,” I protested as I followed her toward the lounge where she liked to sit and hang out the most.
“I know you’re a badass. You’re the Cartel princess and you’ve grown up in this world and have seen things, but a death is a death. And it is something to feel sad about, and those feelings are okay.”
I dropped onto the couch under the demand of her tugging on my hand. But I didn’t relax. Pivoting toward her, I took her hand and held it with both of mine. “Elena, it’s not the same.”
“It is the same!” she protested. “Adrik had to kill my father just the same as Maksim had to kill your brother and?—”
“And a death is a death,” I said, throwing her words back at her. “You once told me that these men are not easy to love. But we do.” I raised my brows, prompting her to fight me on that.
“Well, yeah, but?—”
“But nothing. You know that your father was a threat, acting against the interests and safety of the Bratva. I know that my brother was also a threat, acting against the interests and safety of the Bratva. We weren’t always part of the Volkovs, Elena, but we are now. Our children will be too.”
She frowned, calming down and studying me like she was anticipating that I’d snap and bawl on her shoulder at any second.
“They couldn’t be allowed to continue being threats to those we love.”
Slowly, she nodded. “I know. I agree. But…”
“But a death is a death. Your father’s. My brother’s. And likely many more. This is the way this world works, but it’s not a cause to panic and dive into a deep pit of depression and get stuck. There are too many things to consider and concentrate on to get stuck in a rut like that.”
She almost smiled. “Too many babies to prepare for,” she added softly.
I nodded, relieved that I could be direct and snap her out of this emotion-laden onslaught of a greeting.
“I didn’t say that I am okay. I said I will be okay. And I will. Maksim’s love will guide me. Your friendship will support me. Knowing that I can work on securing parts of this empire and business will validate my choices and encourage me to want to be okay.”
She leaned in to hug me. “So you’re not brushing this off and trying to act tough.”
“I don’t act tough, Elena. I am tough.”
She smiled wider.
“And I will be tough in combating any guilt or sorrow about what had to happen today. I spoke to him… before. I had one last confrontation with him just to test that nagging, tiny voice in my head that wanted to cling to the hope that he wasn’t the enemy he seemed to be.
And he failed that test. He showed who he really was and what he cared about.
It wasn’t me. He didn’t care about me or my life.
That made it easier to open my eyes and see that I should always count on and choose to stand with those who do care. ”
“We do,” she rushed to say. “We all do. I do. Adrik does. All the brothers and cousins. Dean and the other soldiers.” She nodded for emphasis.
“And that’s why I can tell you without a doubt that I will be okay.”
We hugged again, and I damn-near cried at how good it felt, how profoundly my heart swelled with love, at the idea that this sweet woman could truly care about me and my happiness.
“But if you need anything, if you need to talk or cry or vent or anything… I’m here for you.”
I stood, and she followed suit. “I know, Sister.” I hugged her again. “That goes both ways. Right now, though, I think the others are hoping I’ll be here to assist them with the aftermath of what happened earlier.”
She didn’t protest or try to cling to me, letting me go. Maybe she still worried, because she walked with me toward the control room where most of the Volkovs would gather.
“I mean it,” she said. “We will band together as sisters, no matter what.”
I smiled and agreed.
In the control room, I was not received with condolences or concerns about how I was holding up on the day of my brother’s death.
Adrik acknowledged me with a lift of his chin. “You good?”
I nodded, taking my seat next to Maksim.
These men wouldn’t offer me sorrows and platitudes.
They were glad to have the threat of my brother gone.
The problem solved. And as we dove into the specifics of what could follow, I fell further from that despair that wrapped around me earlier.
Instead, I approached the conversation with gusto and the determination to make my father proud at last.
Lev confirmed that the men who had traveled with my brother were still being held.
“I’ll speak with them,” I offered.
“Hold on. Now?” Viktor frowned. “So soon?”
I nodded, glancing at Maksim. “Yes. The sooner, the better.”
“Hang on.” Lev stood, shaking his head. “That, uh, area isn’t ideal for someone like you to tour and?—”
I stood, sending him a cool smirk. “I’ve seen worse,” I reminded him dryly.
Maksim took my hand and didn’t let go as we walked toward the patio out back. Alexei offered to bring the Cartel men here, to the main house, instead of me going to Lev’s compound. Either way worked for me, so long as I could speak with those who had wanted to come with Arturo.
While we waited, I went through the names of the men who would likely be the most loyal to the memory of my father.
“Jorge is who I would choose to lead,” I said just before the men arrived.
They weren’t beaten or showing any signs of wear and tear. Upon facing me, their grim faces lit up.
“Miss Garcia,” one greeted warmly before wincing and ducking his head. “I’m sorry. Ms. Volkov.” He shook his head as he was led to stand before us seated in the shade on the patio. “It’s hard to remember you’re a married woman. In some ways, you’ll always be Miguel’s little princess.”
The other man huffed. “Princess? You must forget about the time when she beat all of the crew in a test trial in the field. Good afternoon, Ms. Volkov.” He dipped his chin in a bow. “It’s good to see you are well.”
“This isn’t a cordial visit,” I replied. “Is it also good to be here and know that my brother is now dead?”
They didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. “With all due respect, Ms. Volkov, yes.”
I glanced at Maksim, glad that he could hear and see what I was.
“Then let’s sit. And talk.” I gestured for them to be seated.
For hours, they brought me up-to-date about all that had been going wrong with the Cartel.
The poorly led runs. The beating of men who dared to defy or argue with Arturo.
The new habit of “loaning” runners to individuals my father never would have had patience for, like when Arturo sent Enrique and let him be beaten to death.
Food was brought out, and under my order and Adrik’s permission, the two Cartel men were shifted from the label of captives to guests. Visitors but also liaisons.
For the rest of the day, they filled us in about Arturo meeting with Yusef Antonov and how many in the Cartel worried that the Russian wanted to simply take over the Cartel.
“When Arturo asked for drivers for this trip,” the older one, Manuel, said, “Rolando and I jumped on the chance to come. We anticipated that Arturo wouldn’t return because of how he’d more or less arranged for that ambush targeting you recently.
And if he could be taken out, we’d need to move quickly to avoid Antonov taking over. ”
It confirmed all that I’d feared. Under my brother’s piss-poor leadership and his willingness to be swayed by an untrustworthy newcomer to the scene, he’d set the Cartel up to break apart.
Dissenters like Manny and Rolando were just waiting for the chance to have Arturo ousted.
They agreed that Jorge and a couple of others would be ideal to become the next boss.
And they provided us with a list of the hard-core followers who would react violently to Arturo’s death.
“But I think I speak for them all that it would be ideal for you to return and lead,” Rolando said with a wistful expression.
I shook my head. “I belong here, with my husband. With my Bratva.”
Maksim squeezed my hand. “However, that doesn’t mean an ambassador role can’t be provided.”
I smiled at him, knowing that he was proposing my involvement in the Cartel to both please me and also to ensure that we’d know what was happening with our allies.
“I can assist in seeing someone trusted in power. It will require a purge of those who followed Arturo, those who wished to side with Antonov. While it was never my duty to lead the Cartel, I will not walk away from leaving it as an organization that my father would have been proud of.”
They both agreed with this direction. Both thanked me and all the Volkovs for the extension of friendship.
This, too, wouldn’t be an overnight attempt.
We concluded the meeting with plans to identify and round up the rogue ones most lured by whatever Yusef Antonov had promised Arturo.
Then we would reassess the security of the Cartel.
Plus a vote of which candidate—approved by me—could take the helm and rule the Cartel I had come from.
My future was here, with Maksim, and nothing would ever sway me from it.