58. Vasiliy
Every muscle in my body is tense and primed as I absentmindedly comb my fingers across the little head asleep on my thigh.
Soldiers line the large plane; men I’ve known my entire life.
Brutal faces that have killed and maimed by my side.
I’ve known this for years, but they’ve never felt quite as dangerous as they do now, surrounding my six-year-old sister in a flying tin box.
My hand ghosts the assortment of knives and handguns strung across my body in quiet reassurance.
Ever since that call yesterday morning, my mind has been trapped in an impossible state of reeling. I’ve run through the meeting in my head a hundred times, and I’m still baffled by how we reached the outcome.
As far as I can puzzle out, three things are undoubtedly true:
1. Octavia’s father was killed.
I know what it means for her to let people in. When she loves, she loves hard. Aside from my concern for her, I’m surprised to find a part of me grieving for the man. He’d grown on me through the months.
2. Sasha Siderov didn’t die of natural causes. Whatever event caused the tragedy also left the Siderov Syndicate incredibly vulnerable, evidenced by the number of soldiers Octavia requested from my uncle.
I will fix it, I tell myself. Whatever she needs, I will become it. Create it. She and her family will be safe again.
3. Octavia Siderov, the epic love of my life, is an absolute badass.
I thought I already knew this, but it appears I didn’t know the true extent. From what that fucked up meeting implied, not only has she taken over leadership of her syndicate, but she has assumed the title of Pakhan.
It’s unheard of.
Women aren’t even allowed to know the whereabouts of their husbands in our world, let alone control them. This girl has somehow altered the course of history on a deadly whim. I can’t help the proud smile that grazes my lips.
Then there’s the piece of the meeting that I can’t quite puzzle out. Somehow, she managed to strike an ironclad alliance with my former boss. Solokov is notoriously ruthless. I’ve seen men plead for death in my chair at the mention of his name.
How did Octavia earn an audience with him, let alone get him on our team?
The thought makes me uneasy. I will gladly pay whatever price she has bargained for, especially after she saved my sister.
She has always accepted the child’s presence in our future, even when we were just two strangers huddled together in a cage.
It shouldn’t come as a shock that she bargained for her safety in the middle of such a tumultuous moment—and yet, it does.
My head pounds from all the questions and possibilities swarming through, so I lean back in my seat and turn to the one thought that covers me in a soft blanket and lulls my racing pulse.
She called me “husband.”
That means I get to keep her, right?
Yeah.
Not gonna take any other explanation.
“Vasi, look!”
Anya practically bounces in excitement, straining against her seatbelt to look through the window as the plane touches down.
She’s never been outside Russia before, but I made sure her tutors and nannies always spoke to her in English too.
I guess some part of me knew I’d have to smuggle her out of the country to keep her safe.
“What do you think, zayka?” I ask softly, keeping an eye on the men shifting around us.
“No snow!” Her dark curls are wild and frizzy around her face from sleeping in my lap, and her blue eyes are wide with amazement.
“No snow,” I agree with a laugh, ruffling her head. “Are you ready to meet the ballerina?”
“Yes!” she squeals, and the noise vibrates through the plane. Several guys shoot irritated looks our way, and I meet each with a threatening glare of my own.
As the jet slows, navigating the cloudy New York tarmac, a fleet of black SUVs appears in the distance.
My heart does a giddy little jump at the sight of the nearing vehicles.
Before the plane even comes to a stop, I’m rising to help Anya into her jacket.
She’s too excited to be remotely helpful, not that I blame her.
I can’t even process my own exhilaration. She’s out there.
She bargained for my life.
There are so many words left unspoken between us. So many things I thought I’d have all the time in the world to say.
I lift Anya into my arms, settling her little body against my hip as we make our way towards the door. The hinge cracks open, and every ounce of oxygen sucks out of my lungs.
The sky meets the tarmac in an endless shade of grey, only broken up by the wall of figures lined up in front of the vehicles.
Solokov’s men, I recognize.
In front of everyone, a streak of red waves like a flag in the wind. Octavia stands as a queen before her subjects, decked out in black cargo pants and a fitted long-sleeve, various weapons glittering in silver streaks across her frame.
I have the strangest impulse to sink to my knees in prayer.
I don’t do that, though.
Because my feet are moving before my head even catches up to the action.
I race down the steps and across the tarmac, icy wind biting into my cheeks. Anya buries her cold face into my chest to hide from the chill.
Octavia barely manages two steps forward by the time I crash into her body, as familiar as my own. My free arm wraps the back of her spine, crushing her into me. Her limbs loop around Anya and me in tandem, holding our bodies together. Just our little unit of three against the haze of grey.
How it was always meant to be.
“Can’t breathe!” Anya squeals, wriggling free in my arms.
Octavia giggles, pulling away a bit.
I don’t want to breathe. I tug her back in. Unbelievably, her first words aren’t even for me.
“Hi, sweet girl! I’ve been waiting months to meet you!”
My. Heart. Melts.
“The ballerina!”
Octavia laughs again, scooping my sister out of my arms and settling her against her own hip. “Yes! My name’s Octavia.”
“Ot…Oct…” my sister stutters, fumbling through the syllables.
“How about Tavi?”
“Tavi,” my sister repeats, then nods her head decisively. “You like Vasi.”
My cheeks heat—I don’t fucking know why.
“Yep. I love Vasi. He tried to get away from me, but I tricked him into coming back. I even worked extra hard to steal you, too.”
She…
She loves me?
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so high in my entire fucking life. If they bottled the pure joy racing through my veins, a single drop would sell for billions.
“I love him too!” My sister throws her arms around Octavia’s neck. “Don’t worry, Tavi. I won’t let him leave. I don’t like it when he leaves, either.”
I come up behind them, wrapping both into my chest. “I won’t leave again.”
“That’s right,” Octavia says with a sickly sweet voice. “Because you, my friend, are getting a tracker. Maybe a leash, too—what’d you think, Anya?”
“Like a puppy! CAN WE GET A PUPPY?”
“No—” I start with a sigh.
“Yes!” Octavia says at the exact same time.
Anya looks up between us, trying to figure out who has more authority on the whole puppy issue. I frown, sighing even heavier.
“Fine.” I just know they’re gonna name it something like Sparkles and force me to clean up all the creature’s shit.
Still, the resounding squeals in my arms are almost worth the tiresome promise.