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I couldn’t give Elia what she wanted. Because deep down, I was afraid that Uncle Misha would punish her the same way Father punished me. If not Uncle Misha, then it would be her father. Or this mysterious Bogatyr.
“Does this have to do with your wife?” Boris asked softly.
I sighed and looked up at the spinning night sky, the lapping waves at the pier sounding like they were far away. Elia made me weak. I shouldn’t have let my guard down around her.
“Do you remember the last night we did this?” I slurred. “Ten years ago.”
“Alyosha…” The fight slacked out of Boris. Understanding and sympathy tinged his voice. “Let the past die.”
“I can’t, Borya,” I muttered. “She made it come back…she made all of it come back.”
Looking over at Boris, I debated telling him what had happened between Elia and me. All of it. I didn’t know what to do next, or if what I did was going to be the right move.
For the first time in my life, I was unsure of myself.
Chapter Forty-Two
Aleksey
“Aleksey Fyodorovich,” a familiar voice called out behind me.
Boris scrambled to his feet, moving quickly for a big man. Slowly, I rose with him and saw Uncle Misha’s familiar figure swim into view.
“What are you doing here, Uncle?”
“I could ask you the same,” he countered lightly. “What happened?”
I stared at my uncle. I shouldn’t be surprised that he could find me wherever I was. It was the duty of every brigadier to know where his pakhan was. Doubtless, Uncle Misha was just checking up on me.
“Have you been to my penthouse?” I asked lightly, not knowing why the question tumbled forth.
Surprise filtered into his expression. “No, of course not. I heard that you were out here and wanted to make sure you were all right.”
A mixture of emotions rolled through me. I didn’t know whether I wanted to tell him to fuck off or to pull him into a hug.
“I am here to help you, nephew,” he said, his expression softening. “I’ve always been here for you, Alyosha. And I will always be here for you, my pakhan. I know I’m not your father, but that has never stopped me from looking out for you.”
He sounded so sincere that I paused. Could I tell him? Could I believe him? Or was this another ploy?
There was only one way to find out. Swallowing hard, I made a decision that I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “You were right.”
He pursed his lips and sighed. “I’m afraid you are going to have to be more specific.”
“I was a fool, Uncle,” I said tightly. “You were right. I trusted that viper in my bed and nearly paid a price for it.”
Boris muttered a curse. Uncle Misha moved closer, reached out to clamp his hand on my shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Alyosha,” he said, his voice laced with sadness. “I truly am.”
“No, don’t be sorry,” I forced out, letting my bitterness come through in my words. “You were just looking out for me. For the Bratva.”
“What happened?”
“She tried to get me to leave, Uncle. She tried to make me give all of this up.”
“Suka blyat,” Uncle Misha spat. “She must’ve gotten instructions from her father.”
“There’s more,” I said. “I asked if she was the Bogatyr.”
Uncle Misha’s eyes widened. “And?”
