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CHAPTER 31

Gavril


I stood in the driveway until I could no longer see the taillights of the car that carried Naomi away. I felt sick to my stomach at what I had just done, hoping that I had made the right decision in sending her away.


Of course, it was the right decision to get her away from the danger, but I should have taken her myself.


“Fuck,” I breathed, shoving a hand through my hair and forcing myself to turn back to the house. I thought that when she left, I would be able to breathe a bit easier, but right now, I didn’t feel like it at all.


I felt like part of me had just left in that car.


“Pakhan?”


Looking up, I found Ivan standing at the entrance, concern on his weathered face. “What is it, Ivan?”


“Anatoly will watch over her,” he said softly, as if he could read my thoughts. “She will be safe. We will make certain that she is.”


I drew in a steady breath. “Thank you, Ivan.” The old man was one of my trusted few, and while I wouldn’t normally take that sort of conversation from just anyone, he wasn’t one of them.


He winked before disappearing into the mansion and I followed him inside, the structure oddly quiet now. The silence followed me as I walked to my suite and showered quickly to wake myself up, changing into a fresh suit, my thin Kevlar vest underneath my dress shirt now. Once my clothing was in place, I strategically placed my knives and two handguns on my body, wanting to be ready at a moment’s notice in case Konstantin decided to attack the mansion.


He would have a hell of a time doing so with the number of guards I had ready at a moment’s notice.


Once I felt refreshed, I walked to the study, trying not to glance at the stairs as I did so. Fuck. I already missed Naomi, and she hadn’t been gone an hour!


Settling behind the desk in the study, I poured myself a drink and took a long sip, steadying my body and my thoughts to what I needed to be focused on. I was the Pakhan now, and it was time to start thinking like one.


Two hours later, my lunch sat untouched on the desk as I regarded Yuri. “Tell me again.”


Yuri narrowed his gaze. “There was an attack earlier. We were doing the change of the security near the docks where the latest shipment of weapons was located. The attack came out of nowhere, and a few of our men were injured. They got away before I could ID them, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what it was, Pakhan.”


I clenched my jaw as I crossed my arms over my chest. Before now, Konstantin had honored the agreement longer than I had thought he would. Technically, he could have started the moment that the sun rose, but he hadn’t, and something told me he was still gathering forces to attack me at an opportune moment so he could catch me off guard.


“He must need the weapons,” Yuri finished. “There are a few rocket launchers in that shipment.”


“That he would know about,” I added, thinking of when he and I had gone to look at the warehouse ourselves. I had fed him some information about what was going on with the Bratva in hopes that he would see that we were stronger than he had imagined.


Now my plans were backfiring on me, and I had let the fox into the chicken coop unknowingly.


“I want them moved immediately,” I told him. “Take the launchers and put them out of LA, out of reach.”


They had been for a Mexican drug lord that wanted to take out his rival in the biggest display of power. I had gotten them from Russia with my usual shipment, and they were due to be picked up next week, earning me a nice payout in the end.


“Yes, Pakhan,” Yuri replied. “It will be done within the next hour.”


“I want to know when Konstantin is spotted,” I continued, trying to think one step ahead of the Krasnaya brigadier.


“There’s more,” Yuri replied, his voice heavy.


I arched a brow. “What else is there to discuss?”


“A few of the former brigadiers have jumped ship in the last two hours,” he replied, his eyes flashing with anger. Yuri hated those that turned their back on who they should be loyal to.


Fuck. “Their reasoning?” I asked lightly.


Yuri cleared his throat. “Your wife, I believe. They were following the future of Stanislav Orlov in Sveta, and now that she doesn’t exist, they have nothing to fight for, so they choose to fight against you.”


“A man can respect that,” I answered, turning my back on Yuri so he couldn’t see the fury in my eyes. I couldn’t fault them again. I had lied to them, betrayed them so that they would join my Bratva.


It wasn’t surprising that they were jumping ship, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t pissed off about it. Word was getting around about Naomi not being Sveta, and it was only a matter of time before everyone would know how I tried to dupe not only the remaining Krasnaya Bratva but the others that had been in attendance on our wedding day.


My fucking reputation was on the line and likely smeared because of the choices I had decided to go through with.


Turning back, I faced my brigadier. “I want eyes on the remaining brigadiers that have chosen to stay. In the event that they turn their fucking backs, I want them dead.” I knew eventually I would have to make a decision regarding them, and though I had given them a second chance, that time was over.


“Yes, Pakhan,” Yuri replied, a gleam in his eye. “We will make sure it happens.”


“Good,” I answered. “I expect to get reports every fucking hour. Pass the word along. I want to be informed.”


Yuri inclined his head and walked out of the study, off to do my bidding, but I wasn’t done. He had barely headed down the driveway when I called for my own car, with Ivan at the steering wheel. “Take me to Paradise.”


“You got it, Pakhan,” Ivan replied, putting the car into motion.


I watched as the mansion disappeared from view, my fingers drumming on my knee lightly. I had nervous energy now, likely from too little sleep and the liquor sliding through my veins. If Yuri was right, then there were going to be a shitload of others that would be hearing about the Sveta ruse and likely not expecting me to make an appearance.


I was going to prove them fucking wrong. I had done what needed to be done to ensure my place was secure, and I was going to become one of the most powerful Pakhans in LA.


Anyone else in my position would have done the same.


When I arrived at the club, it was empty due to the early afternoon, but I walked in the door anyway, my boots sounding on the concrete floor. The bartender didn’t even try to stop me as I strode through the empty club that looked sad in the daylight hours. It looked worn out, like I felt at this moment.


The back room was busier, however. Many of the older Mafia Dons were sitting around with the cigars in their mouths and cards in their hands, the conversation ceasing the moment I stepped through the door. Normally, Anatoly would be at my back, but since I had loaned him to Naomi, I was on my own.


“Kirilenko,” one of them called out, placing his cards on the table and regarding me with a grin. “You’ve had an interesting day, haven’t you?”


“Don Viditori,” I acknowledged with a slight nod of my head. The Don dealt primarily in weapons these days, with no children to take over the family business. I knew personally that he was looking for someone to take on his Bratva one day and would likely be a primary target for Konstantin to get on his side. “A word?”

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