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Chapter 27
Sandra
Trevnich slams his fists against the table, his grim expression made much more bitter by the harsh light overhead.
“I lost an eighth of my men last night to those Nicolaevich dogs!” he seethes. “And they’re disrupting my businesses. I’ve seen an almost fifty percent decrease in profit since this waryoustarted.”
I let the old man finish, frankly too irritated to trust myself with a responsible follow-up. The family heads and I are gathered today in the private backroom of one of my family’s restaurants—a front for smuggling weapons in and out using the clever disguise of food crates—for an emergency meeting. My uncles and even Dad are here to sit in on the meeting, a testament to how serious things are getting. We’re all flabbergasted at the amount of progress Andrei has made in such a short amount of time, and he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down.
“This is your fault,” Trevnich continues, the vein in his temple popping as he points an accusatory finger at me. “Why do we have to suffer losses when this fight is between you and Nicolaevich?”
There’s a low murmur of agreement around the table. I’m no fool. I’m surrounded on all sides by old, cranky men who are my allies, but certainly not my friends. They talk over one another, voicing their complaints with unbridled vitriol.
“We need more money for weapons.”
“At this rate, I’m going to lose my entire district!”
“It wasyourbrother who got shot. Why are you draggingusinto this fight?”
“We’d be better off pulling out of the conflict. Letthemduke it out.”
“Why aren’t you saying anything, Antonova?”
“Probably because she doesn’t know what to do.”
My eyes flick up, hate and anger bubbling just beneath the surface of my skin. I’m losing control, not just of the meeting, but of the Bratva in general. It’s slipping through my fingers like sand. The harder I try to hold on, the more the grains cut me, sharp like a knife.
“Enough,” I grumble, addressing the room with a steep frown. “Let me make myself perfectly clear: an attack on one of us is an attack on all. You swore allegiance to the Antonovs, which means you should be as insulted by the attack as I am.”
Trevnich sneers at me. “See? This is what I’m talking about, Antonova. Too emotional.”
“There’s nothing emotional about it.”
“Are you sure? If Nicolaevich had come after one of us, would you be up in arms the same way you are for your brother?”
I grit my teeth. “Like I said. An attack on one is an attack on all.”
Trevnich folds his arms over his chest. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Beside me, Dad sits up a bit straighter. He’s been silent this entire time, giving me the opportunity to run things the way I see fit. The moment he moves, all eyes are on him. I’m almost jealous. The way he can command everyone’s attention without even saying a word is both impressive and terrifying. Why can’t I achieve the same results?
“Show her some respect,” he says gravely. I can’t tell if he’s speaking as my father or the former head of the family. Either way, his tone is enough to make the men at the table squirm.
Damn. How doIdo that?
Trevnich clears his throat. “I’m sorry about what happened to your son, Mikhail, but you have to understand where we’re coming from here. An all-out war for a flesh wound?”
“Were it your own son,” Dad says, “would I not send my own men to scour the city for the person accountable?”
“I have no doubt you would—”
“Is it unreasonable to expect the same from you?”
Trevnich shifts in his seat. “No, but—”
“My daughter is young, but she is capable. Reasonable. And, frankly, she has far more patience for your insolence than I ever would have tolerated. Listen to what Sandra has to say or leave. If you think you’re better off alone, you know where the door is. Just don’t expect any help when the Nicolaevich Bratva eventually comes after you, too.”
Silence falls over the table. I don’t know whether to be thankful for Dad’s interference or upset. I’ve been trying so hard to prove I’m worthy of my spot at the top. Having him save me fills me with a burning humiliation. I fight the wave of nausea rolling over me and stand, gesturing to the map of Moscow spread out on the table.
