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She rolls her eyes upwards and gives me a shy smile. “Lottery is one way of looking at it.” She leans over and places her hands on top of mine. “I’ve been seeing someone,” she announces with a glow on her face. “He asked me to move in a few weeks ago!”
My smile fades when I hear that. I’m happy for Ashlyn, but when she insisted I live with her, I thought it would just be me and her. I don’t feel comfortable imposing myself like this and living with someone I don’t know. I trust Ashlyn – it’s everyone else on this planet I don’t trust.
“I think I should find my own place,” I say to Ashlyn. I don’t want to be a bother to you and your boyfriend.
“Don’t be silly!” Ashlyn shouts to me as she carries plates of food out of refrigerators with doors twice the width I’m used to seeing. “My boyfriend knows all about you. He’s happy you’re here.”
He doesn’t knowallabout me. As close as we are, even Ashlyn doesn’t know that much about me. I never told her I was originally brought to Chicago as a spy for the Bratva. Arkady sent me here to get information on a rival crime family, the Lane Family. I was supposed to find and befriend the daughter of the family, Adrienne Lane, but couldn’t find her before the school term ended.
Ashlyn doesn’t know that my whole life has been dedicated to serving Arkady and his men. She doesn’t know about my father being killed. Or about me being a hostage of the man who killed him. She doesn’t know I lost my virginity to that very same man. I think she’d kill me herself if she found out.
She knows nothing of Viktor, and I intend to keep it that way.
“Hey!” Ashlyn shouts as she piles food onto our plates. She points a spatula at me. “I don’t want to hear another word about you living somewhere else.”
I look down at my hands, still not convinced I’m comfortable living in a stranger’s house.
But I’m out of options.
Chapter22
VIKTOR
The last two days have been some of the worst in my life. As soon as Vadim was wheeled into the ambulance, he died. The medics pounced on him as I watched the light leaving his eyes, just as I did with my mother. When he was in surgery he died a second time, but they revived him again. I lost him so many times. When I first saw him after surgery, as much as I dreaded the thought, I was sure he’d die.
But he’s still alive. He’s still fighting. I don’t know how it’s possible.
Boris Stepanov stabbed Vadim straight through the chest, but the surgeons said he missed the major vessels and organs that would have killed him instantly. I was told by the surgeons that I shouldn’t expect my brother to survive, but he’s fighting, and I’m determined to do anything I can to help him win his fight. I don’t know what’s carrying him along, what’s he’s drawing on for fuel, but I’m willing to bet it’s vengeance. I promised Vadim that when he wakes, we’ll kill Boris for what he did. I think that’s what’s keeping him alive. It’s what gave him the strength to open his eyes earlier today. It was just for a moment, but I made sure he saw I was here.
He’s not alone in this fight. Not while I’m alive.
Tangles of lines feed medicine into his veins. A thick lump of bandaging covers the wound on his chest. He had a tube hanging out of the edge of his mouth, but it’s gone now. He’s breathing on his own. Vadim is barely recognizable, but he’s here.
I wish I could say the same for Tatyana. I don’t blame her for running, I just wish I could know that she’s safe. Ensuring her safety was my job, and I failed. She’s a survivor, I’ve always known that about Tatyana, but even the best of survivors have their limits.
I hear a weak moan from Vadim and turn to him. His eyes are open to just a sliver, but I see him tracking my movement as I walk towards the side of his bed. We look at each other for a moment and I notice his mouth moving, the same way it was in Boris Stepanov’s restaurant just after he stabbed Vadim. This time, I can hear a faint voice coming from him. I lean just above his mouth until I can make out a word.
“Brother,” he whispers.
“Brother,” I say back to him. Vadim is my brother. It was difficult to accept at first, but I came around. Until this moment, I didn’t realize the power of being part of a family. I thought I lost mine in the village attack all those years ago. That bond was something I’d forgotten exists.
Until now.
Vadim raises his arm and closes his hand around my forearm, trembling from that bit of exertion. He lays his forearm into my open hand, and I close my hand around it. We stay quiet with our arms linked, listening to the hum of air as it flows through tubes and periodic beeping from machines and monitors.
“The Bratva,” Vadim says as he breaks his grip. He points a shaky finger at me. “Lead them.”
I look down at the mess of surgical bandages covering Vadim’s body. There’s dried blood still on his neck.
I shake my head, refusing his order. “They’re your men, Vadim.”
“Yours,” he forces out. He winces from pain and lays his head back down on his pillow.
“Ours,” I say back. “Your men, my men, we’re all brothers now. Your battle is our battle. We’ll find Boris Stepanov, find his sons, and we’ll rain hellfire on them.”
Vadim lifts his head and flashes a look at me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save Boris for you,” I assure him.
