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They had never known softness. They sneered at kindness. But they were loyal. And I was blood.
Because of that, they had always had a soft spot for me. Perhaps even fondness. They had doted on the motherless little girl. All three had played with me and gently teased me as a little girl, bringing me sweets and presents. They were naturally protective of what was theirs, and as family, I was definitely that. I only had to appeal to that side of them, and they might leave us alone.
They might even help us.
“I am not going back, cousins. I cannot live that life. I am not suited for it.”
They shared an uneasy glance. They knew I was too soft and gentle. Too innocent. They knew that my father, like their own, was a monster.
I only hoped that they had not become too much like our elders in the years since we had been apart.
“I do not wish to fight with you, nor does my companion.”
“Companion?” Andrei snarled.
“My friend. He saved me. He is teaching me to protect myself,” I said with a raised chin.
The Aslanov brothers grumbled.
“I do not like the way he is touching you, little bear,” Anton said. He was the most easy going of the three, though his surface charm hid a heart of stone. Stone that beat only for family. They were all like that.
If I had not been raised by strict but kindly nuns, I might be too, I realized with a spurt of sympathy.
“I trust him. I want you to trust him, too.”
“No can do, Zaichik,” Alexei said, using one of their many pet names for me.
“Then trust me! I cannot lead! What my father expects from me is impossible. It should be you. You should be the ones to inherit the mantle of the Aslanov Batva! Everyone knows this, other than papa.”
‘Papa’ was Sergei Aslanov, the most feared man in Russia, and the United States. His cruelty and creativity were legendary. I simply had not known the extent of it until my eighteenth birthday, when it had all come crashing down around me.
I doubted I could ever forget what I had seen and learned. What I had witnessed, even if I lived a peaceful ordinary life and lived to be a hundred and twenty years old.
I saw humans butchered like animals, still alive. ‘Traitors’ my father had called them when I accidentally strayed into a wet room near the kitchens in our ancestral home, set on a massive estate in the countryside. The tiles on the walls and floor had run red with blood. The cries of dying men were beyond anything I had ever heard, or imagined.
It would haunt me forever. To escape from that life would be a blessing beyond anything I could expect. I was afraid to hope for mercy. But I was prepared to beg for it.
I was prepared to fight for it, too.
“Please,” I said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
They laughed. They actually laughed.
And then they saw. My cousins could fight their way out of a corner, I knew. But in that moment, twenty or so bikers who came out of the woods, heavily armed.
And no one could fight their way out of that.
Vice could have handled them, maybe not all at once, but he could have fought them and held his own. But he wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted me to be free above everything else.
According to Vice, living through the encounter with my family was icing on the cake. For him. He meant it, too.
I was just starting to realize that I didn’t want to live without him. Vice was… an anchor. A lifeline. And somehow, the big, gruff man had worked his way into my heart.
“Let’s sit and talk,” Vice said. “We can come to an amicable agreement.”
“Amicable, my ass,” Andrei said, sounding almost American. But he nodded. He was the most volatile of the three, which was saying a lot.
“There’s a diner down the road. Let’s get some coffee,” Vice said. It meant that we would not be able to speak freely. It also meant that no one could kill anyone else.
“If you hurt him, I will never speak to you again,” I said softly as I stepped away from Vice. “And if you drag me back, I will make it my life’s mission to destroy you.”
Three pairs of eyes widened. They did not expect that from me. I was their sweet little bear. But no more.
“She has claws, I see.”
“Yes, I do.”
“It’s like that then.”
“It is,” I said with a nod. They nodded in acceptance after I gave them a hard look. And then I turned on my heel and walked towards Vice. It was a symbolic moment.
I was walking away from my past.
I was walking towards my future.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Vice
“She is not the kind of woman that you can toy with,” one of the brothers said. I could already tell them apart, in terms of voice and attitude. I’d studied the file on them last night so I knew their names by appearance, but the brothers were a complicated puzzle. I was learning quickly. I glanced towards Anastasia who was waiting by our SUV, speaking to absolutely no one.
