Page 108 of Nemesis

My hand slides across Octavia’s thigh under the table, tearing her focus off the chaos. I give her leg a soft squeeze. “Dinner and a show.”

I think it’s fair to say that the Siderov Pakhan isn’t in the best mood after the sharp turn dinner took, but since we have his negotiation call with my uncle and Solokov scheduled for tonight, here I am, stuck in the office of the man who threatened to kill me numerous times in the past hour.

Octavia asked her dad to try to reason with my former employers. I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s not much to be done. Uncle won’t give me up without a fight, if only to maintain his pride, and Solokov never agrees to any deal he doesn’t directly benefit from.

Sasha Siderov’s office looks exactly how I’d expected: worn leather couches, an expensive mahogany desk coated in a shiny finish, and paper files scattered about every surface, containing information many would kill to get their hands on. Guess a certain someone has his head buried in the analog-age sand. The space might be construed as cozy, were it not for its psychotic owner.

The Pakhan collapses into his chair with a tired expression. He rubs his eyes for a while before leaning forward to the dial pad of his office phone.

“Is that… nail polish?” he suddenly asks, taking in my chipped nails.

I lift my hand, inspecting Octavia’s handiwork. The black is still on for the most part, but after sparring with her cousin earlier, the pink needs some touch-ups. “Jealous?”

He merely shakes his head in disbelief and continues dialing.

Honestly, the temperature during dinner was the fucking Bahamas compared to the sound of Uncle’s voice picking up the call.

“Ah,” he says. “Sasha Siderov, I presume.”

I’ve only ever heard that tone precede violence.

“Correct. I appreciate you agreeing to this call,” Sasha answers cordially. “Mikhail Solokov is on the line as well, though I hear introductions will be unnecessary.”

“Yes,” my former employer drawls. “We have quite a history of negotiating, don’t we, Morozov? Though after the last deal turned into your nephew disappearing from my ranks into thin air, I’m hesitant to continue such talks.”

“That situation is actually the reason for this call,” Sasha cuts in before my uncle can respond.

“Is that so?” Solokov asks.

“Yes. Vasiliy was with my daughter when she was targeted and taken. The two have been recovering at my compound after their bout in captivity.”

“Your daughter. Interesting,” Mikhail says. “Is she alright?”

The reaction is night and day to my uncle’s humorless laugh across the line. “Such a pathetic boy. Always the liability.”

My anger rises, but Sasha raises a silent hand and shakes his head. My frustration melts to ash in my throat. He’s right. This isn’t about me. It’s about her.

“Yes, she has managed to make a full recovery. I prevented Vasiliy from reaching out to both of you until I had gotten some answers about the event.”

“He doesn’t answer to you, he answers me!” Uncle snaps, dropping the thin leash on his temper.

“Actually,” Solokov cuts in. “He answers to me. Isn’t that the deal we made, Mr. Morozov? That generous shipment alliance of ours in exchange for the interrogator?”

I zone out in my chair as the men argue useless points. Not one actually cares about retaining my services. They only want the dominion that I signify, and maybe, if I’m feeling generous, the skills I can provide. Their voices carry on as Siderov tries to negotiate for me to stay longer at his compound, Solokov berates my uncle for failing to uphold their alliance, and Uncle makes calculated threats against everyone on the call.

I stay silent.

I hate every part of this.

In all my years in this line of work, I never contested my place as a mindless bottom-man. Some men are born into leadership. I was created to follow orders. I’m the one who carries out the bloody tasks in the darkness so that Uncle’s hands can stay pristine.

But at some point in the last two months, I saw a glimpse of a different life.

One where I get to spend every day caring for my girl in quiet moments and family chaos. Where I could take her across the world to every place I traveled to on assignment, and see each city through her fresh, bright eyes. I saw a lifetime of silent conversations and secret jokes, and making her realize she’s worth every star in the stupid sky.

I’m a fool for considering that such a life would be available for a bastard like me.

The meeting eventually ends with a tentative agreement between the Pakhans: I’ll stay at the Siderov compound until Sasha gets his answers about our kidnapping, after which I’ll return to Mikhail Solokov’s service in New York. My uncle’s annoyance with the verdict is deafening. I thank Sasha, even though he’s only fighting for me for his daughter’s sake, and walk out of his office into the dark hall. Whatever. He stood up for me, and that’s all that really matters.