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“You didn’tletme do anything,” I growl. “And the fact that you don’t see that this is a direct attack on us and our credibility is just another reason in a long list why you should have stepped down years ago.”
Angry wrinkles fan out around his narrowed eyes. His jaw works back and forth. “Our job is not to protect individual people. It’s to protect the Bratva—the legacy of the Pushkin name and what I’ve built. You’re not ready for the job if you’re going to let some no-namebitchdistract you from—”
“Talk about her like that again and I’ll kill you.”
He arches a brow, but doesn’t say anything. He knows I mean every word.
“Francia was under the Pushkin Bratva’s protection,” I continue. “An attack on her is an attack on us. Someone is trying to undermine our authority and make us look weak. She has to be rescued.”
“Spoken like a soft-hearted fool. If you refuse to sacrifice anyone, then you’ll get yourself killed and you’ll take the Bratva down with you.”
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I’ll walk into that building and die today. Maybe this is the end of me.
But if I die to protect Cora, then I’ll die keeping my promise. I’ll die as a man of my word.
“The people around you are not pawns you can sacrifice for your own ambition,Otets.But when you treat them that way, eventually, you run out of pawns. Then you’re left alone.”
I leave my father standing on the patio and go inside to prepare.
81
IVAN
Yasha and I approach the building from the rear. Guns are concealed under my shirt, at my waist, and tucked at my ankle. Bratva men are stationed in a perimeter around the building, but they’re further out than I’d like. If someone is inside the building with Francia, I don’t want them to see us coming.
“Do you think anyone is in her apartment?” Yasha asks quietly.
I scan the windows and balconies. There are potted plants on ledges and lights hanging from rafters. A black cat sits in front of a screen on the second floor, watching us closely.
“I don’t know. It depends who is doing this. It could be a small outfit—people looking for a ransom or to boost their credibility. But if it’s anything organized—”
“The Sokolovs, you mean.”
“They’re the most likely. But we don’t know until we get in there.” I see an emergency door propped open to our right and turn towards it. “It’s time to find out.”
Yasha and I position ourselves on either side of the door. But just as he grabs the handle, my phone vibrates.
I pull it out, expecting to ignore it. But it’s Cora.
“Hold on,” I grumble. I turn away and answer the call. “I’ll call as soon as I have an update. Just stay at Jorden’s and wait for—”
“Ivan,” Cora whispers. I can barely hear her, but she’s sniffling. Her breathing is coming fast and heavy in the speaker.
I go rigid. Every cell in my body is on high alert. “Cora, tell me what’s happening.”
Distantly, I hear banging. Loud, echoing sounds coming from her end of the phone.
“Cora,” I growl. “What is—”
“I don’t know,” she quietly sobs. “Someone is—I think someone is inside the—”
Sound explodes through the speaker. It’s like a bomb went off in her room.
Then the screaming starts.
I can’t tell whether it’s Cora or Jorden or both of them, but there is so much fucking screaming. Yasha is next to me, his gaze murderous as we’re forced to stand here and listen to it.
