Page 47 of His Demands

"Shut up," I say, but there's a lightness in my voice, a brief respite from the grimness of our situation.

He becomes serious again, his gaze piercing. "Working with the FBI... that's a hell of a thing for a former Bratva member to do."

I meet his gaze squarely. "That's just it, Fyodor. I'm ready to sever ties with the Bratva, once and for all. No more half-measures, no more looking over my shoulder. I want a clean break, a fresh start. For Julie, for our future children, and for me."

Fyodor leans forward, placing his glass on the table. "It's a noble path you're choosing, Ivan. Dangerous, but noble. I'll be here, every step of the way. We'll face whatever comes together."

I nod, grateful for his support. "Thank you, brother. It means more than you know."

We sit in silence, the weight of the upcoming encounter with Boris and the FBI looming over us. It's a gamble, a play that could either free us from the shackles of our past or plunge us deeper into a world of danger and deceit.

Fyodor shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. "Ivan, I don't want to sound morbid, but have you considered, well, what if something happens to you?"

I nod solemnly, the magnitude of the situation not lost on me. "I've thought about it, Fyodor. And I've made arrangements, just in case."

He nods, his expression serious. "What kind of arrangements?"

"I've already had my lawyer draft my will. If something happens to me, you'll take over the company," I explain, watching his reaction closely.

Fyodor's eyes widen in surprise. "Me? Take over the company?"

"Yes," I affirm. "You're the only one I trust to handle it the right way. And more importantly," I pause, the thought of Julie weighing heavily on my heart, "I know you'll ensure that Julie is well taken care of. I want her to have everything she needs, for the rest of her life."

Fyodor runs a hand through his hair, visibly distressed by the conversation. "I hate this, Ivan. It feels like we're planning for your funeral."

I sigh, feeling the weight of his words. "I know, and I hate it too. But we have to be realistic. This situation with Boris and the Bratva is dangerous, and we can't pretend otherwise."

He nods reluctantly, the lines of his face etched with concern. "Alright. I'll do it, but only because I know it's what you want. Just promise me you'll do everything in your power to make sure you stay safe."

I offer him a grim smile. "You have my word, Fyodor. I plan to come out of this alive."

There's a pause as we both reflect on the enormity of what's at stake. Then, Fyodor breaks the silence. "What are you going to tell Julie when you head back to the city? You know she's going to want to stay with you. She won't just sit here while you put yourself in danger."

I exhale deeply, the thought of facing Julie and her reaction to my plan weighing heavily on me. "I honestly don't know yet. But one thing's for sure—it's going to be a fight. She's strong-willed, and she won't take kindly to being left behind, even if it's for her own safety."

Fyodor nods, understanding the predicament. "You're in a tough spot, brother. But whatever you do, don't lie to her. She deserves the truth, no matter how hard it might be."

I nod in agreement, knowing he's right. "I'll figure something out. But lying to her isn't an option. I respect her too much for that."

We sit in silence for a moment, each lost in our thoughts. The plan to work with the FBI and take down Boris is a gamble that puts everything on the line.

The vibration of my phone breaks the heavy stillness in the room, and I glance at the screen to see a text from Deputy Director Hargrove.

On my way.

My heart beats a little faster with anticipation and anxiety. This is it—the moment where everything either falls into place or unravels completely.

My brother, reading the distress on my face, stands up. "I need a moment," he says, his voice strained, "to wrap my head around all this."

I nod, understanding his need for space. "Take your time," I reply. He exits the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, a maelstrom of emotions churning inside me.

Sitting back, I let out a long, weary sigh. How did I get here? Why did I ever get involved with the Bratva in the first place? I’m overcome by frustration for myself—each decision, each action and inaction of my past, feels like a chain linking me to a life I'm desperate to leave behind. A life that is threatening everything I hold dear. I feel as if there’s a vice on my throat.

Compelled by a need to see my wife, I rise and quietly make my way upstairs. Peeking into the room where she is working, I pause at the doorway, watching her in silence. She's completely engrossed in her project, her focus and dedication evident in her every movement. She doesn't notice my presence, and I don't disturb her, content just to observe.

As I stand there, a surge of emotion washes over me. It's a feeling unlike anything I've ever experienced. It hits deeper, and it’s more profound. It's not just love; it's a fierce, protective urge, a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything for her safety and happiness.

Turning away from the door, I head back downstairs, my mind set on the task ahead. The meeting with Deputy Director Hargrove will set everything in motion. It's a risky plan that could either free me from my past or entangle me further, but I'm ready to face it head-on.

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