Page 35 of Blood Bound


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... And then I see him.

Slim, tall, and greasy, and leaning on a crutch to support his bandaged leg, it’s the asshole who accosted Nia and I the other night.

He’s a Russian, and he’s standing near the head of the Volkov hierarchy; only five spots away from the top dog himself. He looks lost in his own little world of angst and pain...

And then he looks up, and our eyes meet.

My heart stops. The blood pumping through my revitalized veins goes cold.

It only takes a second for everything to fall apart.

“You!” the greaseball accuses, pointing his free hand at me like a scared little girl at a ghost. His voice breaks through the respectful silence of the room and shatters the prospective peace.

“Semyon!” growls a man who I recognize as Taras Vokov. Taras is Vadim’s second oldest son and head of the Bratva’s finances. He swats Semyon’s hand down like a father scolding his son.

No. No. No.

Semyon’s rage doesn’t let up. I don’t look away, but I’m getting ready to run. I have no weapons to defend myself with, only words.

“That’s the man who shot me!” Semyon sneers, his spittle flying onto the clean carpet below.

A rumble grows from the Russian side of the room. Were they allowed to keep their weapons? I let my gaze leave Semyon’s pointy little face. Gianni and Vadim are both staring at me.

“What is this all about!?” bellows Vadim. His icy eyes dart back and forth between his grandson and me.

“That’s the man who did this to me, dedushka,” Semyon begs to be believed as he points down to his bandaged leg.

I clench my fists. The whole world seems ready to crumble in on me.

“Is this true?” Vadim commands of me.

I don’t answer.

“... Ronan.” It’s Gianni. He wants to know, too.

I struggle to find a response.

Do I lie? After all the weight Gianni has just put on my ability to tell the truth? Do I risk everything I’ve built up with this family just so I can save everything I’ve built up for myself? Or do I hope that I’ve already done enough for them? Will they protect me?

I look Gianni dead in the eyes. His gaze doesn’t change. It’s just as cold and calculating as ever. He won’t protect me, I realize. Still, the words come out of me with little hesitation. It’s almost a matter of pride, to tell the truth in such a dire situation.

“... Yes, it’s true.” I blurt out, without the energy or the desire to explain myself any further. I live and die on Gianni’s reaction, and I know he doesn’t care why I did what I did. He only cares about what it means to him and the family.

“This is unacceptable,” Vadim bellows, slamming his fist onto Gianni’s table in a show of extreme disrespect. The godfather’s war medals stir, along with his old hand-grenades, but Gianni doesn’t budge. The gears are turning in his head, I can tell. The best I can hope for is that they turn in my favor.

“My grandson spent 6 hours in a veterinarian clinic, surrounded by common beasts, getting a bullet dug out of his leg—a bullet that man put in him.” Vadim points a shaky hand in my direction. His wrinkled skin hangs like death’s cloak around his wrist. His thin white hair has gone wild with anger. His beady blue eyes stare icy daggers in my direction. “I don’t care if he killed Santino Costa or not,” he continues, after an angry pause of consideration. “What he’s done to Semyon is just as bad. My boy may never be able to walk right again. We cannot stand for this!” Another fist pound on Gianni’s desk sends the godfather to his feet.

“ENOUGH!” he booms, and the room goes silent.

Vadim and Semyon shake with anger. I don’t budge. Every last ounce of energy in me is being saved in case I have to make a run for it. I can’t let this be the end of my line—I need to see Nia again.

I scan the room for something I can use to get me out of this, but everyone has checked in their weapons at the front. Without even a pocketknife to defend myself with, I have no chance. I’m completely outnumbered.

“What do you ask of us?” Gianni turns to Vadim and glares at the elderly leader of the Volkov Bratva.

“All we ask of you is him,” he roars, pointing his shaky finger at me one last time. I just want to snap it in two. The old man has obviously spoiled his grandkids, and it’s putting the only hope of peace this city’s ever seen in complete jeopardy. I wasn’t out looking for trouble when I crossed Semyon’s path that night, but he was, and that was enough to lead to this.

“... And what do we get in return?” Gianni asks Vadim.

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