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I frown. “So why on earth would he be willing to sell it to us for the price on the table?”
“Because it’s not the deal of the century you think it is.” She swallows. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’ve heard them discussing something that’s in that basement that’ll kill any development deal. He’s selling you a lemon.”
Vanya draws in a shaky breath, smiling sadly at me.
“My father isnota good man, Hades. And he hasnotforgotten the bad blood between your family and ours, or between Gavan’s and ours.”
Ares folds his arms over his chest. “I have to ask…”
“Why I’m helping you?”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
She sighs heavily. “Because I never asked to be born into this life, and I don’t want it.”
I frown. “Okay, but you telling us all of this is a bit more than giving the middle finger to your old man, Vanya. This could—and probably will—have consequences for you…”
“I was in love with someone.”
Vanya looks away, tears brimming in her fierce eyes.
“Her name was Katja, and she was our household chef. Seven months ago, after hiding it my entire life, I came out to my father.Wecame out; Katja and I.” Vanya turns to level a broken look at us. “Do you know how he reacted?”
My jaw ticks at the pain and rage in her face.
“He fired her, got her visa revoked, and had her deported back to Ukraine.” Her face shatters. “She was killed by a Russian bomb outside Bakhmut last night. I just found out.”
Jesus.
“Vanya,” I growl quietly. “I’m so fucking sorry—”
“He killed her. So, Hades?” Her voice is like broken glass as she looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “There already have been ‘consequences’ for me. It’s his fucking turn now.”
She pulls her phone out, her face a mask of livid anger as she taps on it. Mine buzzes in my pocket.
“Watch that.”
The video she’s just sent me is blurry and shaky. But it’s pretty obvious what it shows: Serj Mirzoyan and Leo fucking Stavrin, along with the late and unlamented Pascha Andreev, talking on what must be Serj’s back garden patio.
“I don’t actually speak Russian myself…”
“Thenallow me,” she hisses thinly. “They’re talking about starting a war between the Reznikovs and the Drakos-Kildare alliance. Serj is giving them a list of potential targets, including a warehouse full of stolen high-end electronics that belongs to your family. Pascha is talking about plans to start using violence on the streets against the children of Kildare and Drakos vassal families, made out to look like Reznikov Bratva aggression.”
Fuck. Me.
My mind flashes to poor Theo Petrakis getting lit on fire with Russian vodka, and Nick Eliades losing his prestigious spot on the Cornell hockey team after getting beaten to shit.
“They want to stoke the anger between you and the Russians, until you’re all forced into open war. When it gets bad, my father’s plan is to pretend to side with you, to get close, while Leo will cozy up to Gavan. At a certain point, they’ll both make moves to kill their respective kings—Gavan by Leo’s hand, and you, Ares—along with Cillian Kildare if possible—by my father’s.”
I glance at my older brother, whose face is a stony mask.
“Your father left a message for me this morning, actually,” he hisses quietly. “Asking how he could help with the mounting hostilities between our family and the Reznikovs.”
Fuck.
On the video, Leo and Serj grin and shake hands.
“That handshake is Leo and my father agreeing to split the spoils once both empires are up in flames.” Vanya’s face is lined as she looks up at me. “Youdo notwant to go to war with the Russians, believe me. You’re all being played.”
