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“If you fail, like I did, we lose everything,” Lyov snapped. He walked forward, stopping in front of my desk.
He bent forward until his face was mere inches away from mine. “If you continue this downward spiral, Solonik could take over as the Godfather. You fucking know that. He has been looking for every opportunity to do so, and now you are giving him an invitation.”
The Russian Mafia consisted of four families. The Ivanshovs, Soloniks, Agrons, and Gavrikovs.
Each family had their own Boss, but I was the Boss of them all. The Godfather. The other families were underneath the Ivanshovs. But Solonik had wanted to take over. If Lyov hadn’t handed this empire over to me, he would have been the Pakhan a long time ago.
And now he was looking for another opportunity, only because I’d proved myself weak.
Lyov grabbed my collar, pulling me forward. “I told you not to fall in love. And now you have become useless. I thought you were stronger than I was. Clearly I was mistaken.”
Releasing my collar, he stood up, his gaze unflinching as he stared me down. “I’m taking over.”
I wasn’t surprised when the words were uttered. No, I knew it was coming. I expected it, and I was prepared for it.
But Viktor wasn’t. “What?” he exploded, moving forward, but Isaak stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“You are useless while you look for Ayla. So it’s better if you concentrate on finding her. I’ll take care of the Families. When you find her and she is safe, you will have your position back,” Lyov announced.
He didn’t wait for my answer. Not that he cared. He walked out of my office, Isaak right behind him.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Viktor demanded as soon as the door closed behind them.
“It’s better this way. I don’t want to worry about the Families while looking for Ayla. She is my priority,” I mumbled, my gaze drawn to her photo again.
There were a few minutes of silence between Viktor and me before I finally stood up. “Call the others. We have business to take care of.”
Next man on the list. Another step toward my Angel. They were small steps, but I knew in the end, they would lead me to where I wanted. They had to. I wasn’t going to stop until I had what I wanted, what I needed.
I walked out of the office with Viktor following closely behind. When my steps faltered in front of the room next to the office, Viktor walked away without another word. He always knew what I needed even without me saying it.
And right now, I needed privacy.
Opening the door of the sitting room, I walked inside before closing the door softly. The light was already on, although not surprisingly. Only two people were allowed in this room. If it wasn’t me, then it was my father.
We just happened to be in the room at the same time.
He stood facing the wall, his hand behind his back, his legs shoulder-width apart in a defensive stance. Lyov looked very much like the powerful man he was known as.
But he was hurting inside.
I knew that because he stood staring at my mother’s portrait. It was a family portrait, actually. The frame was big, taking almost half of the wall. My mother was sitting on a sofa chair, fit for a queen, wearing a beautiful golden dress. My father stood beside her, while a younger version of me sat on her lap. Her stomach was rounded with my baby sister.
Next to the portrait was another photo of my mother with my father standing beside her. But that was before I was born, just after my parents were married.
It was a tradition.
And I could almost see another portrait on that wall. Of Ayla and me, while she sat on the very same chair my mother did, looking very much like the queen she would be.
But the image was suddenly shattered by Lyov’s voice.
“I miss your mother every day. Every day, I wonder why I’m still alive while she is gone. I loved her more than I should have.” He paused and then chuckled dryly. “Who am I kidding? I still love her as much as I did before. That type of love never dies, Alessio.”
He was right. It would never die. Several months ago, I would have laughed in his face, but not now. Because I knew how he felt. The pain of losing the woman you love with every fiber of your being.
“How much do you love her?” he asked suddenly.
I flinched at the question and stared blankly at the wall. “I will kill for her,” I replied. “And I will die for her. Does that answer your question?”
No words were spoken at first. Only silence between us before Lyov finally continued in the same monotone voice, his back still facing mine.
