Chapter Seventeen
“The London Bratva has been hemorrhaging money,” Mark droned over the video chat. He was briefing Ivan on everything we had learned so far. I searched through the new images Mark had sent over. My brilliant wife managed to break Libby’s code and obtain at least a terabyte of new information we never had before. We’d been in London for nearly two weeks, and we still weren’t any closer to bringing Kirill down.
I frowned. Thoughts of Kenzi popped into my mind. We’d left her with Leon at the airport, but that was the last thing I had wanted to do. Kenzi could easily take care of herself. The training the Dollhouse had provided her with was extensive. I was worried she would be blindsided by her relationship with her brother. Afraid she wouldn’t see the killing blow coming because she underestimated him.
Libby had been the gentlest and sweetest girl I had ever known. Vas fell head over heels for her kindness and love for others, and Christian killed her for her perceived betrayal. She stood in the way of what he wanted.
Ava.
“What’s that?” Ivan leaned forward for a better look at whatever Mark was showing him. “Her cane, can you zoom in on it?” Mark snorted.
“Can I zoom in on it?” he mocked Ivan. There was still salt in the wound. “Of course, I can zoom in on it. An ape could zoom in on this.” He paused, his eyes flitting to Ivan. “Well, most apes.” If my brother caught the insult, he didn’t respond, too focused on the photo in front of him.
“Ava was curious about the cane as well,” Mark added. “Especially this.” The photo grew larger, focusing on the small crest etched into the wood of the cane, just below the silver cross.
“That is odd,” Ivan murmured. “I recognize the cane.”
“How is that odd?” I asked.
“Not odd in the sense that he has the same cane,” Ivan explained. “But this is the Eye of Providence.” He pointed to the lidless eye in the middle of the symbol. “And this is the Seal of Solomon.” His finger swept around the rest of the symbol, which was depicted as a pentagram inside a perfect circle.
“Isn’t the Seal of Solomon a legend?” Mark inquired. “An alchemic symbol thought to control demons and such?” Ivan nodded.
“It has had many meanings throughout history,” he breathed. “Same as the Illuminati symbol. It all depends on who you ask and what time-period you are sifting through. The Eye of Providence, as it is attributed to the Illuminati, is the all-seeing eye. Meaning that they have eyes everywhere. Can see everything.”
“Big brother is watching.” Mark smirked.
“Something like that,” Ivan agreed. “In other parts, it means wisdom and protection. Some believe it is a variation of the Eye of Horus in Egyptian Mythology, which is restoration and protection.” I listened intently, pride spreading warmly through my chest at hearing my brother’s depth of knowledge. He was smart. Obviously well-educated, and the passion he exuded caught me up and held me hostage.
“You know a lot about this.”
Redness crept up Ivan’s neck. He shot me a small, bashful smile. “I’ve always had a passion for history and symbolism.”
I nodded and smiled at him.
“Do you have other pictures of people with this cane and symbol?” Ivan questioned, turning his attention back to Mark, who nodded.
“A few,” the hacker confirmed. “The cane itself is rather common, but there were very few I found that had that exact symbol. The first one is this lady.” An image of a woman they’d identified as Madam Therese filled the screen. “From what we’ve gathered, she’s a buyer for the Dollhouse.”
Ivan took a moment to study the picture before announcing that he knew her.
“I have seen her meet with Kirill on several occasions,” he admitted. “That explains a lot, actually.”
Puzzled, I asked, “What do you mean?”
Ivan swallowed, his throat bobbing as a slash of anger cut through his features before disappearing. “Kirill has that same cane. With that exact symbol carved into the wood.”
Crickets.
“Do you think he is a buyer?”
“Or a client?” Mark added.
“Both,” Ivan whispered, his gaze turning to me. “If he’s involved with the Dollhouse, I think he is more than just a client. I doubt clients are given a special decoder cane, and I highly doubt Kirill could afford their services if he wasn’t part of the inner circle. Which means he’s helping supply them while skimming off the top.”
“The assassination attempts.” Everything was becoming clearer. The threads of fate weaving the tapestry of my childhood were starting to come together to reveal Kirill’s grand design.
“How many were there?”
I scoffed. “More than anyone should have to count,” I told him, bitterness coating my tongue. “After Antony, they came every few months. The older I grew, the more frequent the attempts became.”
“He was growing desperate. Why?”
“Matthias was the only one who could identify your mother.” Dima spoke up from the doorway. The three of us missed the unlocking of the hotel room door. “Think about it.” He stepped into the room, handing out the bags of food we ordered. “If it was about straight-up succession, he would have made an attempt on your brothers.”
“He did,” Mark pointed out.
“Eh,” Dima scrunched his nose. “Not really, though. Yes, he manipulated your brother into hunting down Matthias. How he did that, you’ll have to ask him yourself, but I honestly don’t believe that he expected Matthias to kill him.”
Dima made a valid point. If Kirill wanted to remove the obstacles in his way of direct succession, he could have taken out Antony and Ivan long before he came after me.
“Antony was collateral,” Ivan snarled. “Either way, Kirill won. Our brother either killed you and his secret was safe, or you killed Antony and that was one less person in his way.” The gears in Ivan’s head were turning, his anger building as he recounted every moment Kirill had control over. Then he exploded.
“Son of a bitch!” Ivan roared, his fists clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to destroy the room in his rage. “That motherfucking asshole.”
Kirill was playing a long game. Building an army for his war, but he was ill prepared. If the information we had gathered was accurate, it meant that Kirill was slipping. Or it was all a ruse, and we were walking into a trap.
“What are you doing?”
A feminine voice crackled through the speakers of the tablet.
Ava.
Closing my eyes, I let the familiar sound of her voice wash over me. Fuck, I missed her. Mark stuttered something, his back keeping us from her view.
“We’re heading to Portland.” Her soft voice was like a drug to me. “Can you gather some information for me? Sully O’Malley wants a sit down, and I need some dirt to take with me.”
“Yeah,” Mark told her anxiously. “I can do that. Just give me half an hour. I’m finishing up with a few things.”
“What are you doing?”
“Uh, nothing.” Mark panicked as he tried to keep Ava from viewing our video feed. Growling, Dima shoved Ivan out of the way of the camera and sat down, food in hand. “Look it’s…”
“Privet, Dima,” Ava’s face popped into view. I stood sat just off camera so that her view of me was blocked, but I could see everything. “Kak dela?”
Fuck, why was her asking how Dima was doing in Russian such a turn on?
Ivan stared at me, his gaze wandering to the tent in my jeans, and raised his brows.
“Really?” he mouthed. I narrowed my eyes at him and quietly readjusted myself.
“Fuck off.” I mouthed back. He snorted.
“Who’s there with you?” Ava asked curiously, peering closer to the screen, as if it would make her see farther into the room.
“No one.” Dima waved a hand at her. “Television.”
Ava scrunched her nose. “You don’t like to watch television.”
She had him there, but Dima just shrugged it off.
“Thought I’d try it while I was here.”
“Well,” Ava sighed despondently. “All right then. When are you coming home?”
Home.
“Soon,” Dima promised. “I’ll be coming soon, Pakhan.”
Ava smiled at him through the screen.
“Okay then.” She let out a wistful sigh, but otherwise left it alone. “Be safe, Dima.”
Dima nodded and gave her a small smile. Then she was gone.
“That was close,” Mark muttered underneath his breath a few moments after the door clicked shut behind him.
“Too close,” I growled.
Ivan chuckled. “That is what you get for not including her in the plan.”
Fuck him.
“Trust me,” Dima muttered petulantly. “We’ve all told him the same thing. But honestly, it was very last minute, and Ava has a horrible poker face.”
Ivan tilted his head. He couldn’t argue with that. He knew from experience just how bad Ava was at lying.
“We need to get back on track here,” I chastised them. “What are we going to do about Kirill?”
My brother sighed and ran a hand down his tired and worn face. For years, he hunted and searched for the truth behind Antony’s disappearance. I could not begin to imagine what he would have to do in order to gain the necessary information.
I had to hand it to Ivan. He was creative and willing to get his hands dirty. He was smart and cunning. Devious and brave. That didn’t mean we were suddenly going to have sleepovers and bond over sports, especially after his involvement with Ava’s kidnapping, but it was a foundation.
Plus, slitting Kirill’s throat would be a great brother bonding activity, in my opinion.
“I can’t touch him without our father’s approval.” The carefree way he said our father both warmed and tightened my chest. Tomas had always been my father. He raised me from a savage, rage-filled boy to the man I was today. Those times were hard, yes, but I recalled those halcyon days training under him with Vas as the best days of my life.
I still remember the first time he called me son. Vas and I had successfully taken down the inner-city gang that had been controlling parts of north Boston. They had been terrorizing the residents, stealing women and children from the streets to sell, and forcing businesses to pay an insane protection fee that nearly bankrupted half their territory.
A territory that had once belonged to the Bratva.
We took it back.
“What kind of proof do you need?” Mark’s fingers flew across his keyboard, and moments later, document after document popped onto the screen. “I don’t have any proof regarding your mother,” Mark hedged nervously. “His tracks were too well covered. But these all prove he’s been skimming off the top for years.”
“That might not be enough,” Ivan admitted sadly. “Kirill is one of our father’s most trusted advisors. He was there for him in his darkest times. Even if he was the cause of it. Our father isn’t aware of that.”
“He won’t believe his own son?”
Ivan’s face fell, hurt shining through his platinum gray eyes.
“We had a falling out many years ago,” Ivan told us. “It is why I went undercover as an FBI agent. To prove what Kirill had been doing. That he was the cause of all our misfortune.”
Putting my hand on my brother’s shoulder, I gripped it tight, giving him my silent support. We needed to prove to Andrei that the evidence against Kirill was true.
“Kirill thinks you’re dead, right?” Mark’s lips turned up mischievously.
“Yes. Why does that matter now?”
“Because he finally got what he wanted after all these years.”
“I’m not following.”
“The one piece of evidence that could tear apart all of his plans,” Mark explained, “he believes to be dead. Which means—”
“He won’t see me coming.”