Chapter 7 #2
“Call Sergei. Give him the basics. Don’t embellish or downplay anything. Just facts. I’ll handle the rest. I just need to check on the girl and the tutor first before I speak with him,” I say as we part.
Lev nods and pulls out his phone, already dialing as I take the steps two at a time and push open the front doors.
The interior is quiet. Roman must’ve had the sense to keep the shestyorka away from the lounge for the time being. It’s the only space in this house that feels remotely… civilian. No weapons on display, no surveillance with a wall of screens showing every nook and cranny of this place.
Just a tastefully expensive sitting room that could pass for a diplomat’s parlor.
My shoes echo on the marble as I move past the reinforced doors, past the biometric security systems keeping the outside world at bay. I pause only long enough to get my bearings before pushing open the door to the lounge and stepping inside.
The tutor, Ivy, is pacing near the couch with her arms crossed over her chest. Her features are pulled tight with fear.
Yulia is curled up on one of the lounge chairs closest to the windows while she stares out it.
Her little legs are pulled up beneath her and her eyes, usually so bright and mischievous, are glassy and distant.
But she’s safe.
Alive.
That single fact alone lets me breathe a little easier despite the small pang in my chest from her ignoring me. I shut the door softly behind me, and the sound draws Ivy’s attention.
Her head snaps around, eyes widening before narrowing in recognition. “You…?”
I cross the room and head over to the wet bar, pulling two glasses down from the cabinet and filling them both with fresh ice water. “Apologies for the wait. I was coming back from the other side of the city.”
When I turn around with both glasses in hand, Ivy is glaring at me like she’s preparing to throw one of them in my face. She takes one step forward, her expression thunderous.
“What the hell is going on?” she snaps.
The question doesn’t surprise me, though the fire in her voice does.
I hand her a glass without answering. She takes it begrudgingly, as if accepting water from me is a concession she didn’t want to make but is doing so anyway against her better judgment.
I nod toward Yulia. “How is she?”
“She’s traumatized. What do you think?” Ivy bites out.
“Yes, I would assume so,” I say evenly.
Her voice rises slightly when she speaks again. “Tell me why the cafe we were just at got shot up and some guy forced us into the back of a car and took us here. Does he work with you? Only for you, of all people, to show up? Was that your guy?”
“Yes,” I say simply to her last question.
Her face reddens. “What hell are you involved in? And don’t bother telling me some bullshit like business because where I come from, ‘business’ doesn’t involve me having to use myself as a human shield to keep my boss’s daughter from dying!”
I don’t flinch, because she’s right and there’s no spin I could put on it that would change that. “You’re right. Thank you for protecting her. My vory v zakone said you shielded her with your body. That was… an incredibly selfless act.”
The gratitude is real, though it tastes strange on my tongue. I’m not accustomed to saying it out loud. Gratitude, in my world, is currency. It’s delivered in envelopes or power plays, not words.
But she blinks at me, startled for the briefest second.
Her fury flickers, interrupted, before it roars back stronger than before.
“What the hell is going on? This isn’t what I signed up for when I came over here.
I wasn’t told I’d be shot at while trying to enjoy a nice afternoon with my boss’s daughter. ”
No, I imagine it wasn’t. But we’re far past the point of telling comfortable lies.
“You and Yulia were at the wrong place at the wrong time,” I say.
Her laugh is bitter. She steps forward, closing the space between us, her chin tilting high in open defiance. The water in her glass ripples dangerously with her movement, sloshing over the rim and onto her knuckles. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Her conviction in her tone is… impressive. Frustrating, but nevertheless, impressive.
I study her without meaning to. The defiance in her posture, the clarity in her eyes despite the terror she’s endured. She’s not meek by any standards. She hasn’t collapsed into a trembling mess like so many would in her position.
Instead, she stands in front of someone like me, toe-to-toe, demanding answers. Brave, or reckless, she has the balls to confront me about it.
And that makes her a dangerous liability.
I fold my arms over my chest, schooling my features into careful neutrality. “And what do you think the truth is, Miss Bennett?”
For a long moment, silence stretches between us. When she finally speaks, she does so with a firm head shake. “I want to go back to Sergei’s.”
I nod once, curt. “I will be making a call to him soon to come get you. For now, sit tight. I will make arrangements for someone to come around and get you both something to eat.”
Ivy lets out a small, surprised noise when I turn from her and head for the door, shutting them both inside once again. The second it clicks shut, I exhale through my nose, the weight of the situation growing heavier by the second.
Lev is waiting for me in my office.
He stands by the window, his back ramrod straight, phone pressed to his ear so tightly it looks like he’s trying to grind the call into silence by sheer force. His profile is stone-carved, unmoving, only his eyes flicking with restrained irritation.
I hear the faint, muffled crack of Sergei’s voice through the receiver before Lev even acknowledges me. It’s a stream of curses, sharp and rapid, enough to sour the air of the room. Lev doesn’t respond with much—just small grunts of acknowledgment and the occasional clipped “da” in response.
When he sees me enter, he doesn’t say a word. He just holds the phone out like it’s a live grenade.
I take it.
Lev is gone the next moment, the quiet click of the door behind him leaving me alone with the storm on the other end of the line..
“—bullshit to be doing deals out in the middle of the fucking day like that!” Sergei’s voice booms down the line.
“Sergei,” I say into the receiver, mostly to get him to stop for a moment.
But, of course, he doesn’t.
“You'd better tell me what the fuck happened, Antonov,” he snarls. “Why was my daughter involved in one of your deals?”
I settle down onto one of the couches near the unlit fireplace, preparing myself to settle in for a very long discussion.
“She wasn’t. She and the tutor were, unfortunately, at the wrong place at the wrong time.
A coincidence. If I had known Yulia would be there, I never would’ve allowed the meeting to proceed. ”
“Why the fuck didn’t you check?” he snaps.
My jaw tightens. “Because I didn’t expect my men to stumble across your child in a random cafe in the middle of Moscow. I assumed she’d be where she belonged, inside your home, surrounded by your people.”
“You assumed. Do you know what it was like, getting that call? Hearing that gunfire broke out and my child was there? Hiding under a fucking table while your Bratva played out in the open?” Sergei spits the words like poison.
“I didn’t know they would be interrupted,” I explain, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“My vory v zakone was in the middle of a private discussion with the cafe owner. To my understanding, they were in the back of the shop. The first shots were fired at the front. One of the employees went down instantly. The sound of gunfire pulled my vory v zakone and the owner out. That’s when the owner was hit.
The shooters took off immediately afterward. ”
There’s silence on the other end of the line.
“You should’ve had eyes on the place. You should’ve swept the street,” Sergei says finally, quieter now but just as venomous.
“And what? Interrogate every patron walking in? I already had soldiers nearby. But you know as well as I do that when someone wants to send a message, they don’t wait for permission to do so. Whoever did this knew exactly when to strike.”
“You’ve just proven to me that you can’t keep the streets clean anymore.”
My grip on the phone tightens. The anger is there, simmering low beneath my ribs, but I keep it caged. He doesn’t get to see me lose control. No one does.
“I’ve got her here,” I say. “She’s safe. So is your tutor. Neither was harmed. I’ve given them food, shelter, and security for the time being. I’ll have them brought back to you once I confirm the area’s clear and secure.”
Sergei growls. “She’s a little girl, Antonov. Not a pawn in your pissing matches with whoever the hell you’ve been stepping on lately. You promised me… You promised me my daughter would never be involved when we signed our deal.”
“And I intend to keep that promise.”
“You want to keep my support? Then you fix this. Without drawing more attention to the mess that’s already been made.”
“Everything will be handled.”
“It had better. Because if something else happens, I don’t care how much you’ve built with my funds. I will take every clean deal I’ve ever given you and rip it away and watch you and your Bratva burn to the ground.”
After that, the line goes dead.
I lower the phone slowly, letting out a deep sigh.
What a fucking mess.