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Alexei was also the head of the bratva before Viktor took over.
Viktor shoves a side door open and calls out, “Where’s everyone?”
“In the kitchen,” a man replies.
When we enter a state-of-the-art kitchen, I lay eyes on the two men sitting by a round table and goosebumps spread over my body.
Even though they’re in their sixties, they still look badass as fuck.
Holy fuck. It’s finally happening.
Alexei’s eyes lock on me, and he tilts his head as he murmurs, “Aleksandr Aslenhov.”
I’m not surprised that he knows who I am. There’s nothing in this world this man doesn’t know.
He rises from his seat, and when he comes to stand in front of me, we lock eyes. He searches for something in my gaze before he says, “What you went through was fucked up. I hope you’ll find some happiness with us.”
The words are unexpected.
I can only nod. Not even for Alexei Koslov can I face my past.
He places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “We’ll spend some time together tomorrow.”
“That would be great,” I admit. “I have the highest respect for you, sir.”
“Just Alexei.” He turns away from me to take a seat again.
Demitri, Viktor’s father, just stares at me, so I walk closer and reach a hand out to him. “It’s good to meet you in person, sir.”
“Just Demitri,” he mutters.
The corner of my mouth lifts because Alexei and Demitri are so much alike.
I’m introduced to Viktor’s mother, Ariana, and then to Alexei’s wife, Isabella. She’s just as intimidating as her husband.
Isabella and Ariana both look at me with compassion, which tells me everyone here knows what happened to me.
“Alek will start as a chauffeur. I’ll train him over the next year to become my second-in-charge,” Viktor says.
Alexei nods, then asks, “Can you shoot?”
I let out a chuckle. “Not as good as you, but I don’t miss a target.”
He nods again, then mutters, “Good.” He gestures at a chair. “Sit, son. Let’s eat.”
Viktor and I take seats at the table, and even though I’m not hungry, I eat a little of everything so I don’t offend Isabella and Ariana.
Once we’re done, Viktor immediately rises to his feet. “Come, Alek.”
I shoot up, and with a nod at the former bratva boss, his custodian, and their wives, I follow Viktor out of the mansion.
We walk to the cottage that’s nearest to the main gates, and Viktor takes a key from his pocket, unlocking the front door.
When we step inside, I notice the place is already furnished.
“You can change anything you want,” Viktor informs me. “This will be your home.”
Home.
