Chapter 38
ANDREY
Istare at the note in my hand, turning it over like the answer might be written on the back. The address means nothing to me. No recognition sparks in my memory, no connection to any property I know or territory I control.
I pull out my phone and type the address into Google, watching as the screen loads and shows an image of a bed and breakfast. The kind of place that advertises "rustic charm" and "romantic getaways" on its website.
It's three towns away, far enough to be discreet but close enough to reach without drawing attention.
I study the note again, holding it closer to the light streaming through my office window. There's something else there, barely visible in the corner. An extra number, faint like it was written quickly and smudged. I squint at it, making out what looks like a seven.
A room number.
The realization settles in my chest with satisfying certainty. I dial the bed and breakfast immediately, my fingers moving before I fully think through what I'm doing. The phone rings twice before a woman answers, her voice cheerful and professional.
"Riverside Inn, how may I help you?"
"I need to reserve a room for Friday night," I say, keeping my tone casual. "Room seven, if it's available."
There's a pause, the sound of keys clicking on a keyboard. "Let me check for you. Yes, room seven is available for Friday. Would you like me to book that for you?"
"Yes." I give her my credit card information, then hang up.
I fold the note carefully and tuck it into my wallet, then stand and head toward the living room. I need to check on Mariya, make sure she's handling Sophia's visit without too much stress. The last thing I want is for her family drama to interfere with what we have planned.
But when I reach the doorway, I stop and stare incredulously.
Mariya is hugging Sophia.
Not a polite, distant embrace. A real hug, the kind you give a friend or family member. Mariya's arms are wrapped around the other woman's shoulders, and she's murmuring something I can't quite hear. Sophia's face is buried against Mariya's neck, her body shaking with what looks like sobs.
What the fuck? My wife and the woman who thought she'd be my wife are hugging each other? Talk about surreal.
I step into the room, and both women look up. Sophia's eyes are red and swollen with tears streaking down her pale cheeks. Mariya's expression is gentle and comforting, but underneath, I see the fury simmering. Her jaw is tight, her green eyes hard despite the soft words she's speaking.
"Everything will be alright," Mariya says quietly, her hand rubbing Sophia's back. "I promise. We'll figure this out."
Sophia pulls back slightly, wiping at her face with trembling hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart like this. I just… I don't know what to do."
"What happened?" I ask, moving closer.
Sophia flinches at the sound of my voice, her gaze dropping to the floor. Mariya looks at me, and the anger in her eyes intensifies.
"Her father disinherited her," Mariya says, her voice tight with barely controlled rage.
"What?" My jaw clenches. I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.
Sophia's shoulders shake with fresh sobs. "He said I failed the family. That I couldn't even manage to bring you into our organization by marrying you. He said I was useless, and that I embarrassed him by not being able to secure the alliance he wanted."
Fury explodes through me, hot and vicious. I curl my hands into fists at my sides, fighting the urge to put my fist through the nearest wall. "That's bullshit. None of this is your fault."
"He doesn't see it that way." Sophia's voice is small, broken. "He said I had one job, and I couldn't even do that. So he's cutting me off completely. No inheritance, no position in the family, nothing."
Mariya's hand tightens on Sophia's shoulder, her knuckles going white. I can see the rage radiating off her in waves, the same fury I'm feeling. This isn't about Sophia failing. This is about her father using her as a pawn and then discarding her when she didn't deliver what he wanted.
So much for fatherly love. I knew the guy wasn't very emotional.
Expressing feelings like love wasn't part of his makeup.
I figured he just hid his emotions and wasn't one to show them.
A lot of Bratva men are like that, especially Pakhans who can't afford to show weakness such as gushy feelings.
But to do this to his own daughter? That, I did not expect.
"Where are you staying?" I ask, forcing my voice to stay calm.
Sophia shakes her head. "I don't know. I have some money saved, but not much. I thought maybe I could find a small apartment somewhere, just until I figure out what to do next."
"No." The word comes out sharper than I intend. "You're not going to some shitty apartment. You'll stay here."
Sophia's head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock. "What?"
"You'll stay at my estate," I repeat, my tone leaving no room for argument. "I have plenty of space, and you're not going to be homeless because your father is a fucking coward who can't handle his own failures."
Mariya's expression softens slightly as she looks at me, something like approval flickering in her eyes. "Andrey's right. You shouldn't be alone right now."
"I can't ask you to do that," Sophia protests weakly. "It's too much."
"You're not asking. I'm offering." I move closer, crouching down so I'm at eye level with her. "Your father is a piece of shit for doing this to you. But you don't have to face it alone."
Sophia's eyes fill with fresh tears, but this time, they look different. Grateful instead of devastated. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything." I stand and glance at Mariya. "We'll get one of the guest rooms ready for you. You can stay as long as you need."
Mariya nods, her hand still resting on Sophia's shoulder. "I'll help you get settled."
Sophia takes a shaky breath, wiping at her face again. "There's something else. Something I need to tell you."
I tense immediately, my instincts sharpening. "What is it?"
She hesitates, her gaze darting between Mariya and me. "I don't want my father hurt. Despite everything he's done, he's still my father. But…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "I do have some information that might help you."
The room goes silent. Mariya's hand stills on Sophia's shoulder, and I feel every muscle in my body coil with anticipation.
"What kind of information?" I ask quietly.
Sophia meets my gaze, and for the first time since I walked into the room, I see steel beneath the tears. "Information about his operations. Things he's been hiding from the other families. Things that could give you leverage."
My pulse quickens. But I also see the conflict in her eyes. The guilt and shame are warring with the anger and hurt. She's offering me a weapon against her own father, and it's tearing her apart.
"You don't have to do this," Mariya says gently. "Not if it's going to hurt you."
Sophia shakes her head. "He hurt me first. He threw me away like I was nothing. I'm not going to protect him anymore."
I study her carefully, weighing her words. She's serious. She's ready to betray her father's secrets, to give me the tools I need to destroy him if I choose.
And part of me wants to. Part of me wants to take everything she knows and use it to crush the man who treated his own daughter like a failed business transaction.
But another part of me, the part that's been shaped by Mariya's influence, hesitates. Sophia is offering this out of pain and desperation, not strategy. If I take it now, I'm taking advantage of her when she's at her lowest.
"We'll talk about it later," I finally say. "After you've had time to rest and think clearly. Right now, let's just get you settled."
Sophia nods, relief washing over her face. "Thank you, Andrey. For everything."
Mariya helps her stand, and the two women head toward the hallway. I watch them go, my mind already spinning through the implications of what Sophia just offered.
Intel on her father's operations. Secrets he's been hiding. Leverage I could use to protect myself and strengthen my position.
It's exactly what I need.
But it comes at a cost. And I'm not sure yet if I'm willing to pay it.