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My eldest brothers spent their early childhoods in Russia, while I was born in the United States. They feel connected to their roots in a way I don’t. I’ve always felt like the odd one out. They were born into the Bratva as princes, while I was born in exile. I’d have nothing to do with all this nonsense were it not for them. The only reason I do as they ask and watch their backs is because they’re my family—and nothing is more important than family.
I’m Russian, but not really.
I’m American, but also not really.
I feel caught between two worlds, not fully belonging to either.
Hell, when I was a boy, I used to dream of being a cop. Putting away bad guys and locking up crooks, upholding justice like they did in the movies… That’s all I wanted to do. Now I’m aiding and abetting the Antonov Bratva out of a sense of familial obligation. Talk about cruel irony.
I close my eyes. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Will the dirty work ever end?
“Fine,” I say bitterly. “But this is the last time I’m doing this.”
“I doubt we’ll need you to spy on another FBI operative any time soon,” Dimitri says.
“No, Dima. I mean I’m done.”
The silence is deafening.
“What are you talking about?” Pyotr asks.
“Did any of you ever think to ask about whatIwanted? That maybe this life isn’t for me?”
Mikhail clears his throat. “We just figured you enjoyed the work. You’ve never voiced your concerns before.”
“Well, consider this an official complaint. I’ll keep tabs on this Daniella Harper for you, but once you’ve moved everything underground, that’s it. I’m out.”
Again, more silence.
The seconds tick by and I wonder if the line’s dropped. I know that’s impossible, though. We’re using a secured Chinese satellite line I managed to piggyback off, completely undetected. Mikhail and Dimitri could be out in the middle of fucking Siberia and I’d still be able to stay connected with them.
“I suppose wedoask a lot of you,” Mikhail mutters.
His comment takes me by surprise. My eldest brother has always been anit’s-my-way-or-the-highwaykind of guy, so the gentleness and understanding in his tone leaves me oddly on edge. Since he got married and had a bunch of kids, he’s gone a bit soft. I guess that’s a good thing as long as it works in my favor.
“Very well,” he continues. “You have my word that this is the last time we’ll ask you to do something like this. Keep tabs on the woman while we take care of things on our end.”
A spark of hope ignites in my chest. That was easier than I thought it was going to be. I half expected a screaming match, but I’m not going to push my luck.
“I need more information,” I say quickly. “A picture. Last known location.Something.”
“I’ll speak to our informant,” Dimitri offers. “We’ll get the info to you ASAP.”
I end the call after his statement.
My office is completely still, quiet and dark. I custom built my computer’s water cooling system, so there isn’t even the hum of internal fans to fill the void. All I have to listen to is the steady in and out of my breathing and the rapid beat of my heart.
A thought suddenly occurs to me.
If the FBI is trying to gather intel on the Antonov Bratva, there’s a chance Daniella Harper already knows about me. For a moment, a wave of anxiety gets the better of me. What does she know? Could she be watching me already?
It takes several deep breaths before I regain control of my emotions again. No, there’s no way. I’m exceedingly careful about my online presence, and I rarely leave my apartment.
Groceries are delivered straight to my doorstep.
My bills are set to be automatically paid through my bank, which is routed through another for the utmost discretion.
I have a home gym, so I don’t have to worry about wasting away at my desk. Not to mention my official job working for CyberFort can be accomplished in my home office. I don’t think I’ve had to step into CyberFort HQ in almost three years.
