I stand on the hill and watch Levi and Valencia near Anastasia’s grave when my phone rings.
I raise it to my ear. “Is he my grandson?” the Pakhan asks right away, his voice harsh and demanding.
He’s been searching for him ever since Jonathan sent us photos of Levi and Anastasia, gloating in his letters about how he stole the mafia princess and we will never find her.
The Pakhan destroyed countless organizations, enemies, and searched the world for his only daughter and still failed to find her. And since Jonathan never showed his face, we couldn’t figure out who took her.
My hold on the phone tightens just thinking about the fucker, and I wish I could get my hands on him and kill him.
But that’s not my right. That’s Levi’s right, and he made his decision that I have to respect.
“No.”
Pakhan coughs, letting me know the illness he tries to hide from everyone has been progressing way too fast. “Where the fuck is my grandson, then?”
“I’ve been telling you for years. The boy is dead.” The lies slip easily from me, my voice monotone and detached so he won’t hear even a hint of hesitation.
Because the truth would set our world on fire.
The Boston Bratva is powerful, wealthy, and ruthless. And while we are strong enough to go against Lachlan, we would never win this war, and we’d end up just weakening one another.
He won’t ever let anyone take his son away.
I won’t ever allow anyone to jeopardize the Bratva’s future.
The dying Pakhan included.
So we have a silent understanding with Lachlan. As long as we stay away from one another, we keep each other’s secrets.
Although he wasn’t so keen on keeping one particular secret from his son, I explained why we have to wait a few more years.
Patience is the greatest weapon one might have in this world.
“I do not have time.”
Yes. Each day, he becomes weaker, so he has to pass the torch before the vultures sense his weakness and try to challenge him for leadership. And according to the rules, it needs to be the male heir, and he has none.
Not for his lack of trying over the years.
If we are not careful enough, his half-brother would take the reins, and then we’ll be fucked.
“I have no other answer for you, Pakhan.Tvoy vnuk mertv.” I repeat once again that his grandson is dead, and for a second, he stops breathing.
He’s one of the cruelest and coldest men I know, but the idea of his blood suffering and dying pains him.
If Pakhan has one good quality, it is protecting those who are entrusted to him. Otherwise, I would have killed him a long time ago.
Because he might be the head of the Bratva, but I’m its neck, and the head moves where the neck fucking wants.
He’s the facade while I’m the true power.
“Then there is no other choice. I’ll name you my heir. You know what that means. Make sure she understands it too.”
He hangs up as I walk to my car, where Oleg already holds it open for me, and he glances at Levi, murmuring, “He would’ve been a great Pakhan.”
“Yes. Except he’d kill us all.”
Oleg laughs. “True.”
