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Once Kostya had Maya back in his suite, she’d collapsed sobbing into his shoulder as he held her tight. When she was calm enough, he ran a bath for her, followed by hours of lovemaking until they were both too spent to think straight.
Now, he looked in the mirror and adjusted his suit, realizing that he was nervous. Not over any punishment his pakhan might mete out but that Maya might have to return to London without him. He didn’t want to be separated from her ever again, but despite what he’d told Maya that day in the van, the ultimate decision was dependent on one person.
Viktor Sokolov, his oldest brother and the pakhan.
If it had been their father making the decision, Kostya knew what the answer would be. He could only hope his brother would be more benevolent.
Entering the conference room, he nodded to Viktor who was speaking quietly with Roman and Daniil, the leader of the Obshchak. Once everyone had arrived, Kostya started to take his usual seat near the head of the table, but Viktor stopped him.
“Konstantin.” Viktor’s use of his first name made Kostya freeze as he looked to his brother. He resisted the urge to squeeze the back of the chair. He wasn’t going to show nervousness in front of the others. He would keep his head up no matter what his pakhan intended.
Moving to stand in front of his brother, he met his level gaze. “Yes, sir.”
Viktor seemed to grow bigger as he stood in front of him. Kostya was impressed at how well his brother had grown into his position, but now was not the time to mention that.
“You went to London without my permission and almost got yourself killed. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Viktor asked as the others remained silent.
Kostya spoke the truth when he answered. “I was angry that you weren’t being more proactive going after the Svodnik. So I tried to take matters into my own hands.”
Viktor crossed his arms, staring at him. “So you didn’t trust me?”
Kostya bristled at that. “Of course I trust you, but there were far too many words being said and not nearly enough action.”
Concentrating on his brother, he didn’t realize that anyone had slipped around behind him until Roman slammed his hand down on Kostya’s shoulder, holding him in place. Before he could react, Viktor punched him hard in the stomach. Fair enough—he deserved that. If the room wasn’t packed with his brother’s soldiers, he might have responded more visibly, but he merely blinked at his brother, letting him know silently that it hurt.
“And would you respond the same way now?” Viktor asked him. He spoke calmly, his voice traveling around the room. Kostya responded in the only way he knew how. With honesty.
“I would.”
There were audible gasps from a couple of the soldiers in the room, but Viktor remained silent and merely lifted a brow in question.
He looked his brother in the eyes as he stated, “Because it allowed me to meet and fall in love with Maya Popov and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
Kostya thought he saw a flash of amusement on Viktor’s face before he hit him again. His brother had trained along with him over the years, and he definitely knew how to hit and make it hurt. The second blow was too much, and Kostya gasped, bending over as he shouted, “Blyat.”
At that, Viktor laughed. “It’s good to know that you’re human, brother. Come. All is forgiven.”
His brother called for vodka as Roman slapped him on the back and offered to help him to a chair. When Kostya glared at him in response, he raised his arms and backed away even as he was still laughing.
Sliding gratefully into his chair, Kostya took the offered drink and wrapped his hand around the chilled glass waiting for his brother to make a toast.
The group spent the next few minutes drinking while Kostya mulled over his plans to move to London to be with Maya. What would that mean for him? He was a man of action. Could he hang all that up or would his brother have use for him across the Atlantic? He had more than enough money to never work again if that was what he chose, but he didn’t think he could do that. Not for long, at least.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when multiple people in the room received texts simultaneously. Looking up, Viktor, Roman, Daniil, and Niko, all reached for their phones at the same time. They all smiled, but no one said anything.
“Well, is anyone going to share what’s so interesting?” Filip asked, looking at each of their faces. His brother Felix nodded in agreement.
“It seems that someone has taken offense at the mercy shown to the Svodnik,” Viktor announced as he reread the message. “He was being transferred to a more secure facility when his transport was attacked. Most everyone survived with one exception. Anatoly Popov was found dead inside the vehicle, a bullet to the skull and one to the heart.”
The room erupted with speculation on who might have done it. Popov had few friends and many enemies. Finally, Daniil, who appeared to be reading something else, interrupted the comments.
“While they’re not taking public responsibility, it looks like we have the Tambov bratva to thank for this,” he announced as everyone quieted down. Viktor held out his hand for Daniil’s phone and frowned as he read.
Sliding the phone back to Daniil, he sipped from his vodka before speaking. Setting the glass down carefully, he looked around the room. “The Tambovs have already staked a claim on both the drug and trafficking trades the Svodnik had a hand in, but they are offering up his share of the arms trade, which is more substantial than we first realized.”
Grumbles flew around the room, while Kostya’s thoughts went to Maya. Would she accept that he hadn’t had a hand in her father’s death? He doubted that either sister would mourn him, but Maya had been adamant that he not be killed for his crimes. Still, this was out of Kostya’s hands—even if he had anticipated it. He had been under no illusions that the Svodnik would live long enough to go to trial.
“If you ask me, the Tambov did us a favor,” Rostislav announced, and everyone agreed. The older man had been slow to swear loyalty to Viktor, but with this news, Kostya could see dollar signs in his eyes.
