18. Alek #2
I lick my fingers to grip the edge of the page to flip it, ignoring him the best I can.
My eyes read every sentence line by line and when I get the paragraph I’m looking for. I lean forward, placing my elbows on my thighs as I reread the paragraph.
“I found it. This is it.” I slouch against the seat and grin, feeling like I’ve won a million fucking dollars.
“Well read it to us. What does it say?” Nikolai shoots his gaze to Mia. “I know everyone wants to know.”
I snag Mia by the neck, crushing my lips onto hers in celebration. “You’re free, Mia.” I press my forehead against hers, holding her close, needing to feel her for just a moment before I have to pull away. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“What’s it say? Tell me. Please,” she begs, tears welling her eyes.
I clear my throat and read the most important paragraph in Mia’s life.
“If either party abuses, cheats, lies, steals, or inflicts harm in anyway shape or form, this contract will be null and void. The marriage will not happen, and each party will go their separate ways. If the groom is at fault, it is up to the groom’s family to pay a lump sum of three million dollars. ”
That’s fine. That doesn’t make a dent in my bank account.
“Same if it was the bride.”
“But I left him at the altar,” Mia scrambles to say. “He could use that against me. My family doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“You left him at the altar because he abused you,” I explain, placing the contract on the table.
Nikolai picks the papers up to read for himself.
“I will gladly pay. That should get your family back on their feet. I’ll wire them the funds today. They will have it by the end of the night.”
“What if…” She sets her coffee down to turn to me. “What if Ivan doesn’t care about what the contract says? What if it doesn’t matter?”
“Then we will kill him,” Nikolai explains in a very monotone voice as he flips a page.
“Da,” I agree, stretching my arms across either side of the couch, my back settling into the corner.
“But he is… your son,” Mia stammers, horrified of my honesty. “Doesn’t that matter?”
“He’s no son of mine. Like I said before.
” I don’t like repeating myself, but I will for her.
“It might be harsh to you because you are new to those type of rules. You have to understand that this is how it is for us. This is our way of life. If you break any of the rules, depending on the severity, punishment will be given. This? The rules he broke, that’s death. He knows that.”
“Then why would he break the rules?”
“Because he thought the rules didn’t apply to him since he is family.” Nikolai puffs on his cigarette, casual and relaxed. “Being blood does not matter in the Bykov Bratva. It will never matter. It hasn’t for generations. That won’t change now.”
Mia turns to me, horrified, grasping my hands. “Don’t kill him. You’ll regret it. And what if you resent me? Maybe he will come around and everything will be fine.”
“Nothing will be fine, Mia. He hit you. Threatened you. Instilled fear in you. I do not forgive easily. There is nothing he can say. There is nothing he can do or say to redeem himself in my eyes. As of now, he is no son of mine, and I mean that. He is dead to me already. That is the way of the Bykovs.”
“He broke a sacred rule, Mia,” Nikolai explains further. “My family has worked for the Bykovs for many generations, and it’s always been like this.”
“But it doesn’t have to be. You can change ways. You can change this brutal tradition.”
“No,” I explain. “My son is not the exception to the rule just because he is my son. Feelings don’t matter here.
Facts do. Feelings and facts are not the same thing.
The facts are, my son is a horrible person who hurt you in multiple different ways that go against everything the Bykov Bratva stand for.
If I allow him to live after what he has done, I’m setting a tone for everyone who knows me, everyone who works for me, that the rules don’t apply to Ivan.
That I don’t care what happens to women.
“Bykovs have protected women ever since my great-great grandfather made the rule after his first wife was killed by one of his enemies. I won’t change it now. For anyone. That’s a hard line for me, Mia. There’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.”
Nikolai tosses the contract on the on the table. “We’ve got a problem.” He points to another paragraph, stabbing the paper with his index finger.
“What?” I sneer, snatching the contract so fast, I crumble half of it in my hand.
I read the section Nikolai is talking about, then shrug my shoulder. “I don’t see how this is a problem.”
“If one party does not agree with the marriage but the other does, the marriage will continue.”
I roll my eyes and flip the page. “I made an amendment to that. Here. Section four, line b.”
Nikolai flattens his lips, narrowing his eyes into slits at me, and snatches the contract away from me.
He knows I’m right. And he hates being wrong.
Nikolai’s lips move as he reads to himself, then pauses, eyes widening. “Holy shit,” he curses in Russian.
“What?” Mia sniffles, wiping her cheeks onto her shoulders.
She’s crying.
“Mia, My Love,” I croon, tugging her against my side. “No tears. It is good news.”
“Or another Bykov can step in to take on the responsibility of going forth with the agreement,” Nikolai chuffs in disbelief. “You made that rule, didn’t you?”
“Of course, I did,” I mumble. “Maybe I wasn’t as far gone as I thought I was.”
“You were,” Nikolai corrects me. “But you have always had that sliver of humanity that many decide not to keep. It’s how you all have been. My family wouldn’t have stayed so loyal to work with the Bykovs if it weren’t for that sliver of humanity.”
“Thank you,” I say in our native language, hoping he can’t hear the emotion in clogging my throat.
“Da.”
Mia finishes her coffee and squeezes my hand. “Does this mean that we get to be together?”
I cup the nook between her neck and shoulder, smiling so wide, my eyes squint. “Da, Mia. We get to be together. You’re going to marry me and there won’t be anything Ivan can do about it.”
“I’m free?” She covers her mouth as emotion overcomes her.
Her shoulders shake with every hard coil that rolls through her. Tears drench her cheeks as if a storm is raging through her body. It’s the relief. It’s the trauma setting itself free. She no longer has to walk on eggshells or watch what she says. She’ll never be taken advantage of again.
“Well, you’re trapped with me, if you want to call that free,” I joke, wanting her to smile so the tears stop.
I hate it when my love cries.
She giggles, then throws herself at me, her arms wrapping around my neck. I embrace her in return, hold her tight, and press my face into her neck.
“I’m never going to let you go.”
I promise.