Chapter 48
ANDREY
The library feels smaller than it did a week ago, the walls pressing in as I stare at the table covered in evidence that could get us all killed.
Documents are spread across the polished wood surface like pieces of a deadly puzzle.
The blown-up printout of names from the mass grave sits in the center, surrounded by photographs of the scroll, the pillar drawing, and pages of notes in my own handwriting.
Mariya sits across from me, her green eyes fixed on the same papers I've been studying for seven straight days.
Matvey leans against the bookshelf to my left, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression unreadable.
Sophia occupies the chair near the window, her black hair catching the afternoon light as she reviews the translation notes we compiled.
I haven't slept properly in days. Every time I close my eyes, I see connections forming, patterns emerging from what initially looked like random clues Yegor left behind. The old bastard was brilliant and paranoid, hiding information so carefully that it took us this long to piece it together.
And now that I understand what we're looking at, I wish I didn't.
My gaze drifts to Mariya again. She's wearing fitted maternity jeans and a dark sweater that lovingly cups her rounded belly, her hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.
There's tension in her shoulders, visible in the way she holds herself.
She's been waiting for word from her father for over a week now, the silence stretching longer with each passing day.
I need to tell them what I've figured out. The information is too dangerous to keep to myself, even though part of me wants to protect them from knowing. Especially Mariya. But she deserves the truth, and we need to decide together what the fuck to do with it.
"Mariya," I say quietly, breaking the silence that's settled over the room. "Have you heard anything from your father?"
She looks up, and I catch the flash of worry in her eyes before she masks it. "No. Nothing."
I already knew the answer. If Yegor had made contact, I would have known immediately. But I needed to hear her confirm it, needed to see her reaction. The fact that he's still silent makes my gut twist with unease.
"Alright." I stand and move around the table, my hand resting on the edge as I look at each of them in turn. "I need to show you something. All of you."
Matvey straightens, his attention sharpening. Sophia sets down the papers she was reading and turns to face me fully. Mariya's hands curl into fists on the table, bracing herself.
I pull the scroll photograph closer and place it beside the enlarged image of the pillar drawing. Then I add the printout of names from the crypt, arranging them so everyone can see clearly.
"I've been going through my memories," I begin, my voice steady despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins. "Cross-referencing what Yegor left us with events from the past. This all started about twelve years ago."
Mariya's breathing quickens slightly. She knows this timeline. We all do. It's when the Bratva world fractured in ways that still echo today.
"There was a rift," I continue, pointing to the list of names. "Between the families in Russia and the ones operating in America. Some of the American families wanted separation from the homeland. They wanted autonomy, their own power structures, and freedom from the old rules."
"The families in Russia refused," Matvey says quietly. He knows this history as well as I do.
"Exactly." I tap the printout. "The Russian families had been in power for generations. They weren't about to relinquish control just because some upstarts across the ocean wanted independence."
Sophia leans forward, her blue eyes sharp. "So what happened?"
"A massacre." The word tastes bitter. "Until now, no one really knew what caused it. The official story was that it was a territorial dispute that got out of hand. But Yegor's clues led to the proof."
I pull out another document, one I've been keeping separate until this moment. It's a list I compiled based on the coded information hidden in the scroll and the pillar drawing.
"It was several of the American Bratva families," I say, my jaw tight. "Their Pakhans wanted more power, and they were willing to kill for it. They orchestrated the massacre to eliminate the strongest Russian families who opposed them."
Mariya's face goes pale. "The names on the plaque in the crypt."
"Yes." I meet her gaze. "Those are the murdered. Entire families were wiped out in coordinated attacks across multiple cities. Men, women, and anyone who got in the way."
The room falls silent except for the faint sound of traffic beyond the estate walls. I watch the information settle over them, see the moment they understand the scope of what we're looking at.
"My father figured this out," Mariya says, her voice tight. "That's why he testified."
"He figured out part of it." I move to the scroll photograph and point to the numbers written beside each safehouse location. "But there's more. Look at these numbers."
They all lean closer. The numbers appear random at first glance, just coordinates or reference codes. But I've spent days decoding them and matching them against the pillar drawing until the pattern emerged.
I pull out the enlarged image of the pillars in the field of grass and place it beside the scroll. "These numbers correspond to the pillars. And each pillar has a name written in code."
Sophia's eyes widen. "Politicians."
"Powerful ones." I point to the decoded list I've compiled. "Senators, congressmen, and judges. People with influence over law enforcement, border security, and federal investigations. All of them under Bratva control."
Matvey curses under his breath, his hand going to the back of his neck. "Fuck."
"When you add it all together," I continue, my voice hard, "the safehouse locations, the politicians under Bratva control, and the list of the dead in the crypt, it shows exactly how deep this plot went.
It wasn't just about eliminating rival families.
It was about consolidating power across both criminal and political spheres. "
Mariya stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. She moves to the window, her arms wrapped around herself. I want to go to her, pull her against me, and tell her it'll be okay. But I can't lie to her like that.
"My father testified against some of those families," she says quietly, staring out at the gardens. "But not all of them."
"No." I move to stand beside her, close enough that I can smell the faint scent of her shampoo. "There are still others in control today. Families that were part of the original conspiracy. Families that benefited from the massacre and the power vacuum it created."
She turns to face me, and I see the fear in her dark eyes. "That's why he hid all this information. Why he scattered the clues instead of keeping them together."
"He couldn't risk it ending up in the wrong hands." I reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her cheek. "If the families he testified against had found this evidence, they would have used it to destroy him and everyone connected to him."
"And if the families he didn't testify against found it," Matvey adds from across the room, "they would have killed him to keep their involvement secret."
Sophia stands and moves to the table, her fingers tracing the edge of the scroll photograph. "So Yegor created a puzzle that only someone he trusted could solve. Someone who knew him well enough to understand the clues."
"Someone like Mariya," I say quietly.
Mariya's hand finds mine, her fingers threading through mine in a gesture that grounds me. "He wanted me to know the truth. But he also wanted to make sure I could protect myself with it."
I pull her closer, my other hand settling on her hip.
The curve of her waist fits perfectly against my palm, and I feel the tension radiating through her body.
"He succeeded. We have everything now. The locations, names, and proof of what happened twelve years ago and who's still profiting from it today. "
"Which brings us to the real question," Matvey says, his voice cutting through the moment. "What the fuck do we do with this information?"
I turn to face him, keeping Mariya tucked against my side. "That's what we need to decide."
Sophia moves closer to the table, her expression serious. "If we expose this, we'll be declaring war on some of the most powerful Bratva families in America. Families with political connections that reach into the highest levels of government."
"And if we don't expose it," Mariya says, her voice stronger now, "we're sitting on a bomb that could explode at any moment. The families involved will eventually figure out that my father left evidence behind. If they haven't already, and they'll come looking for it."
"They're already looking," I point out. "That's probably why Yegor went silent. He knows they're closing in."
Matvey pushes away from the bookshelf and moves to the table, his dark eyes scanning the documents spread across the surface. "We could use this as leverage. Threaten to expose everything unless they back off."
"That only works if they believe we'll actually do it," Sophia counters. "And if they think we're bluffing, they'll just kill us and take the evidence."
I look down at Mariya, seeing my own conflict reflected in her eyes. We could destroy powerful families with this information. We could bring justice for the people murdered twelve years ago. But we could also paint targets on our backs that would never disappear.
"There's another option," I say slowly, the idea forming even as I speak. "We could use this to build alliances. Approach the families who were victims of the massacre, the ones who lost people in the crypt. Show them we have proof of who was responsible."
Mariya's eyes widen. "Turn them against the families who orchestrated it."
"Exactly." I release her hand and move back to the table, my mind racing through possibilities. "We don't expose everything publicly. We use it strategically, creating divisions among the families involved. Let them tear each other apart while we stay protected."
"That's dangerous as fuck," Matvey says, but there's respect in his voice. "One wrong move and we're caught in the crossfire."
"Everything about this is dangerous." I meet his gaze. "But doing nothing is just as deadly. If not more. The moment these families realize Yegor left evidence behind, they'll come for anyone connected to him. That includes Mariya."
The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. I watch Mariya's face, see the moment she accepts the truth. There's no safe option here. There's only choosing which risk we're willing to take.
Sophia moves to stand beside Matvey. "We need time to think this through. To plan carefully before we make any moves."
"Agreed." I look at each of them in turn. "But we also need to be ready to act fast if the situation changes. If Yegor makes contact, or if we get word that the families are moving against us."
Mariya returns to the table, her fingers trailing across the printout of names from the crypt. "My father risked everything to gather this information. To preserve the truth about what happened."
"And now we have to decide what to do with it," I say quietly.