30. Have a little faith #3
“One of the man’s sons plays hockey on your uncle’s team. Another attends your college. Clyde’s in prison, awaiting trial for multiple counts of murder. What use are the Veronians if they can’t or won’t get you out of a cell?
“No matter where you go, there’s always politics. Always someone striving to take your place, and this is no different. Except you’ll owe favors to the worst kind of bastards who think they’re worth more because they came into this world with a platinum spoon feeding them apple sauce!
“You told me yourself about the girl who was raped—a girl who is the daughter of a brother.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that—”
“What’s complicated about it? Throw in Harrington and you have to ask yourself what use is a brotherhood when everyone is trying to tear out their brother’s throat? When there is no trust, no protection, only dog eat dog?”
“Doesn’t that sound like the Bratva to you?” At his flinch, I cup his cheek. “That was my world too. I lost my mom because of that world. I speak that language, even if you wish I didn’t. I need to do this.”
“Why? What purpose does it serve? You could reign by my side and have more power—”
“Those people are our elite, Maxim,” I tell him, my voice low and throbbing with entreaty. I don’t need him to agree, just to understand. “You said it yourself. They think they’re better than the average person because of how they came into this world.
“But they’re scum. Rapists, murderers, cheating bastards,” I rage. “They’re a mob too, but this one has ultimate power—it controls our governments from the ground up. They help politicians gain seats. They’re the reason President Devere is in office. I’m going to be the reason that changes.
“When Shay’s old enough, I’ll have accrued the political power for him. I’ll have his back. I’ll pull strings. I’ll do anything because Shay is good. His heart is in the right place.”
“It might be now, zaya, but climbing the greasy pole to the top comes at a high price. People don’t become president without selling their souls.”
“I’ll sell my soul so he doesn’t have to.”
His jaw firms. “Why are you willing to put yourself through this for him? What does he have on you?”
I give him a sad smile. “He has nothing on me. Nothing at all. But he befriended the Russian mob princess when he didn’t have to.
He drew her into the fold and made sure she was never alone when she thought she’d lost everything.
He was a friend and a confidant. He helped me find my footing at school.
And he never expected anything. Not a damn thing.
“When I was Vasov’s daughter, the Butcher of Brooklyn Beach, everyone wanted something from me.
The funniest part being that I had no power.
My father hated me. But Shay… he’s always accepted me.
And he’s accepted you too.” At his scowl, I laugh a little.
“He has. He knows about your gifts and he never says anything—”
“Then he’s also corrupt.”
“Gah! Don’t be obtuse.” I shove his shoulder.
“I never said he was perfect. Just good. In his heart. He wants what’s best for the US.
He loathes AI and cares about the planet.
He champions LGBTQIA+ causes and knows that BIPOC are the backbone of our country.
He believes in the power of women. He knows we bring so much to the table but that, in a patriarchy, we’re too busy fighting for our basic rights to have a chance at attaining more.
” I take a breath. “I believe in him like I believe in little else, Max.”
“No man should be put on a pedestal.”
“Like you don’t want me to put you on one?”
“I’m the last type of man who deserves that. Especially from you. You will be my wife by the time the night is through and like with Misha, I don’t expect blind loyalty from you. He’d die for me. But he questions me. I don’t want yes-men in my life. It’s why Misha is my right hand—”
“Not officially.”
“No. Because I’d prefer my avtoritet and vor to have the targets on their backs rather than Misha. Something that may change if you ascend to a position in the Veronians.
“Loyalty is only strong if it is tested—frequently. I have to prove myself to you, Victoria. Every day we are married. I have to live up to the right of being your husband.” When my gaze softens, he pounces. “As should Seamus as your friend.”
“He does! If he goes down a path that I disapprove of, then I’ll either help him back on track or question his actions.” At the quirking of his brow, I grouse, “Please, Maxim. I don’t need your agreement to go ahead with my plans, but I’d like it.”
He speaks words that register as Latgalian simply because I can’t understand a damn thing. Then he states, “He’s in the city. Waiting at your sisters’. They all are. If you want him as a witness, then you’d better text him.”
I gift him with a loving smile. “We set a date.”
He barks out a laugh that I can tell is half-tinged with his belief that I’m crazy. “We did, kotik. And you stood me up.”
The curve of my lips deepens. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
He gives me the softest of kisses. “Never.”