Chapter Twenty-One
The night had been restless.
Sleep evaded me like a bad breakup in a small town. Still there, but just out of reach.
Fuck, I missed Ava.
Her heart. Her soul. Her cunt.
Those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.
Sighing, I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee the new flight attendant had set in front of me twenty minutes before. His name was Roger. He was about fifty years old and completely temporary. I’d officially hired him as a butler for the penthouse. Mia had been doing the job of two people for several years now without complaint, but there was even further strain on her with Ava.
Dima was pouting at the back of the plane, his headphones lodged in his ears as he tapped out a beat to god knows what. Roger, apparently, wasn’t his type.
The plane was blissfully quiet as we took off from the private airstrip in London a few days after Kirill’s demise.
Ivan was staying behind to clean up the London faction. His father had awarded him the title of Pakhan.
Our father.
I had to keep reminding myself of that. We hadn’t had much time to talk since Kirill’s death. We had all been too busy planning for what was ahead. The known and the unknown.
Known: Kirill had indeed been the one to start the Chameleon Agency.
Unknown: How Kirill became involved with a secret society.
Had he been approached prior to his start in human trafficking, or was that what caught their interest? There were still too many unknowns when it came to the egotistical Potestas Omnis.
What a fucking ridiculous name.
“Have you ever heard her voice before?” Andrei played the conversation Kirill had with the mysterious Caesar. Kenzi listened intently, but there was no flicker of recognition on her face.
“No.” She shook her head. “But Legionnaires usually don’t have contact with anyone other than their handlers, if they have one.”
“Did you?” I asked curiously.
Kenzi shrugged. “For a little while.” She sighed. “Her name was Venus.”
“I thought you didn’t have names,” I asked.
“Only the most trusted operatives get names,” she divulged bitterly. “Usually Greek or Roman deity names. It’s their reward for doing their job without asking questions.”
“You don’t sound thrilled about that.”
Kenzi snorted derisively. “When you first arrive, they try to pit you against each other.” Her eyes took on the faraway look she got when she was dissociating from her past. “The better you are, the better your ranking, and the only way your ranking goes up is by defeating your competition.”
“The other operatives.”
Kenzi nodded.
“The first day,” she took a stuttering breath, “they separated us into groups of four or five and stuck us in a room with a handful of melee weapons. Then told us only one of us could come out alive.”
Andrei cursed under his breath.
“They said it would desensitize us to violence.” She chuckled bitterly. “I didn’t realize dying was the better option.”
She didn’t say any more after that, and neither of us pushed her. I had a feeling I knew where her story was going, and I respected her too much to force her to relive that.
“Venus was my handler for about six months before I proved I was capable on my own,” Kenzi continued, answering Andrei’s original question. “Now, it’s a text message with a name and photo. Sometimes, like with Kirill, they want it to be done at a specific spot and time, but mostly someone just wants the job done.”
I nodded.
“You can’t go back,” I pointed out the obvious to her. “You know that, right?”
Rolling her eyes, Kenzi shook her head. “No shit, Sherlock,” she deadpanned. “But it was completely worth it.”
“How did you—” Andrei was interrupted by Dima calling Kenzi’s name. Mark was on vidcom for her.
“Be back.” She got up from her seat and moved to the back of the plane.
Andrei and I sat in silence for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to say. This was the first time we had been alone together.
I tapped my fingers against the seat’s armrest.
Fuck, I was nervous.
I never got nervous.
Then again, I never imagined I had any immediate family other than Kirill. Andrei had decided to accompany me back to Seattle with Dima and Kenzi. He said he wanted to help, and the moment I had graciously accepted his offer, he was on the phone with his Sovietnik, making plans to have men sent from Russia to assist.
I thought he was also looking to connect.
Not that either of us knew how to do that. It was pretty obvious where I had inherited my lack of social skills from.
“Ivan says you are Pakhan of the Seattle Bratva.” Andrei broke the silence. I shifted my gaze from the open scenic window to find his gray eyes staring at me intently. It was like looking in a mirror. “I know Tomas Ivankov well. He is a good man. A good leader.”
I dipped my head. “He is,” I agreed, unsure of what else to say. Andrei licked his lips anxiously, his own fingertips tapping silently against his knee.
More silence.
Fuck, I didn’t know how to do this. People. Connections. That was Vas’s thing, not mine. He was amiable and charming. Before Ava, the only people who saw my humorous and talkative side were my brothers.
The men of my inner sanctum.
The ones I would give my life for without a second thought.
Tomas had taught me to only show my true self around those I trusted most. The men and women under my command weren’t my friends. I may have considered them family and would be cordial with them, but over time, they would think of me more as a comrade and less of as their leader. It meant they could come to believe they could skirt the laws I laid out.
It might have seemed cold and uncaring, but the line I had to draw in the sand as Pakhan kept everyone safe.
Not through fear, but through respect.
“Your mother…” He trailed off, unsure of how to express what he wanted to know. I smiled at him.
“She was warm and caring,” I told him. Even when Kirill had her drugged, she managed to shift the haze aside whenever it came to me. “When she smiled, it was like the whole world lit up. Her laugh was like—”
“Sunshine on a cloudy day,” he remembered wistfully.
I nodded. “It was rare, but yes, exactly that.”
“Did she ever speak of me?” There was hope in his eyes, and I hated to be the one to extinguish that. So I lied.
“A few times.” I cleared my throat. “But it was often vague. I grew up believing Kirill to be my father, and I think that was what kept us safe from him. For a time.”
“If that bastard wasn’t dead, I’d kill him again,” Andrei snarled. “To think my own brother betrayed me from the beginning.”
“You couldn’t have known the depth of his hatred,” I assured him. “He obviously had help.”
“I shouldn’t have let myself be so blinded by grief,” he admitted, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Maybe then I would have seen his treachery. I would have been able to save you and her.”
“I wouldn’t be the man I am today if you had. We can’t change the cards fate has dealt us, but we can learn to master what we are given. My life was hard. Always looking over my shoulder. Waiting for the moment I would slip up and that would be the end.” I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I often was cold and hungry. But I learned to fight. To survive. And that was what I was doing when Tomas found me. Just fighting to survive. He gave me the chance to be a part of a family that cared. That had my back. Tomas will always be my father. The one who gave me every opportunity.”
Andrei’s face fell as I talked. He thought it was too late to be my father. Tomas had been there every step of the way for me as I grew from a boy to a man. He was my father in every way, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for another family.
Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I continued. “And the one greatest thing he taught me is that family is whoever we say it is, and we can always have more than one.”
His eyes were wet with unshed tears as he stared at me. After a moment, he gave me a sharp nod.
“I will earn the right for you to call me father.” His voice was hoarse, brimming with barely restrained emotion. “I will show you I am worthy of that name.”
I smiled at him and nodded. “I look forward to getting to know you.”
“Good,” he cleared his throat and sat back comfortably in his seat, one leg crossed over the other, “now, tell me about this wife of yours.”
Chuckling, I relaxed against the leather of my own seat and proceeded to tell him about the goddess of a woman who had bewitched my soul.