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I want to honor my father, Ivan.
I want to honor the blood of Gavrikov…and do the right thing.
“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath, my hands shaking. “FUCK!”
“He isn’t true blood. The rule of the Bratva says…only true blood can be the heir. Only true blood can succeed the late Boss. And only true blood can lead an empire. It is the rule. It is the vow. For many and many decades,” Alessio murmured. “He knew what he was doing, Viktor. When he accepted his mission, to help you…Erik planned it. He wanted his death. So Johan could take his position as Boss. The only way for him to hand over the title of Boss to his brother without humiliating the family, his name, without bringing dishonor to his late mother and father…”
“…was his death,” I finished.
Johan is wild and carefree. This new transition will fuck him up. But I trust you’d help and lead him to the right path.
Farewell, brothers.
P.S. Fuck it up, assholes. See you in hell.
I reread his last words to us, thinking and wishing this couldn’t be true.
“It was a sacrifice on his part, Viktor. His blood is not on your hands,” Ayla said softly, her voice cracking a little. “He died a hero.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “He always liked to play the role of a savior.”
“Fucker,” Alessio muttered under his breath. His voice sounded hoarse too, laced with too many emotions.
“What do we do now?” I asked, folding the letter neatly and putting it back into the envelope. On the front, there was the Gavrikov seal. The last one Erik must have issued. I rubbed my thumb over it. Farewell, brother.
Ayla grasped my shoulder and squeezed. I leaned into the comfort she was giving. She might no longer be the moon in my life, but she was still the light. When she spoke, her voice was gentle yet solid. “We are stronger together. We move on, Viktor.”
Chapter 33
Valerie
Everyone was cuddled close to the door, waiting. Silently, scared and so impatient. The air was filled with a sense of fear while still buzzing with excitement. I could tell this had been the long-awaited moment for everyone.
I looked around the now familiar faces. Viktor brought me to the Ivanshov’s home almost two weeks ago. I had thought after leaving Solonik’s estate, I would be able to start a new life. Away from fear and pain. Away from my past.
Yet…I was still haunted by memories that were slowly strangling the life out of me. I wanted to say it got easier over the days, but every time I’d close my eyes, Irina was all I could see. Her face, her tears…shaking and bleeding as she slid onto the floor in submission. Awaiting her fate.
It was the last image of her I had ingrained in my head.
The last memory of my only friend.
I never wanted to forget.
A memory could last a lifetime. The past could mock you till your last breath. Together, they were a burden you carried to your grave.
I felt a warmth spreading through my palm, to my fingertips. Looking down, I saw that Viktor had our hands entwined together. He’d been doing that a lot. Holding on to me as if he were scared I’d disappeared. Always finding a reason to touch me when I was in his vicinity. Never letting me out of his sight for too long. I could always feel his gaze burning into my back when I was with the girls. He’d find me, hide in the shadows, and watch me. My silent stalker.
My head lifted up to stare at the man beside me. He was tall, strong, hardened by the life bestowed upon him. My Viktor. The man I loved from the bottomless pit of my soul.
Sometimes, I’d catch the look in his eyes. A pained look, filled with dread. He thought I hated him. He thought I was angry.
I hadn’t spoken much. Yes, I met the rest of the family. Maybe we even bonded. But everything was still a blur to me. A fog had settled over my eyes, and I was walking through life in a daze.
It was hurting Viktor. And seeing him so lost…it hurt me more. It was a never-ending cycle.
I just didn’t know how to break free…I didn’t know…how.
A sudden cry startled me out of my thoughts. A loud, angry, strong cry. Viktor released a shuddering breath from beside me. The others cheered. My eyes stung and then I felt wetness dripping down my cheeks, a trail of tears. Of happiness. And a deeply etched longing.
Viktor brought our laced hands up and he kissed the back of my knuckles so softly his lips barely whispered over my skin. With his other hand, he swiped my tears away. My heart clenched in a good way. To see a man like him, harsh and unyielding, capable of doing something so gentle—it made my heart ache. “Okay?”
