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No matter how long it takes.
45
NIKOLAI
The crackof gunfire reverberates off the walls of an abandoned mall, drowning out the frantic shouting inside. Shattered glass and debris litter the floor as men stomp through storefronts with bare shelves. Flashes of gunfire light up the darkness, casting eerie shadows on graffiti-covered walls. A blast punctuates the panicked screams of those caught in the crossfire.
On an upper level, I stand beside Zakhar, watching as my trustworthy men, fueled by the Lanzzare’s additional firepower, carry out our war against Gunsyn with ruthless efficiency. The scene is frenzied yet calculated among the mildewed building debris. Calmly, I watch a clash of destruction orchestrated by an expert plan.
Tense, I observe from a distance like a general not allowed to race into the fray. I clutch my hands around night-vision binoculars and force my feet to stay planted where they are. Apparently, Gunsyn has also chosen to stay out of the line of fire. But if I see him, I will run into the madness and wrap my hands around his lying throat.
I can’t help but feel impressed and disgusted at the same time. These were oncemymen. They knelt at my feet, pledged their life to me, and now …
They have betrayed me. They swore an oath to serve me or die.
The thought alleviates the sting somewhat. But it cannot drive it out of my mind altogether.
Another round of gunfire sends our men diving for cover.
“Move in!” Rurik says through his earpiece and signals another defensive. Pavel rushes in by his side, their stone-like faces blank as they make sure the rest of the Starukhin Bratva follow. The loyal men know their place and what’s at stake here. The traitors must be eliminated.
After another hour, the gunfight ends, and I force myself to survey the slaughter. Walking through the wrecked mall, I stare at the bloodstained floor, as the metallic scent of death hangs in the air. There seems to be no end to this fighting as I count the dead men sprawled on the floor.
“Did we get him?” I ask Rurik as I turn over another body only to find that it’s not Gunsyn.
“Not this time,” Rurik replies grimly, his eyes never leaving the disorder. “He’s a slippery devil.”
“Dammit,” I curse under my breath. It feels like the bastard is always one step ahead of us and out the door. The frustration is tearing me apart as I kick a hole in a wall.
“This war ... it’s consuming me,” I confide in Zakhar as he leads me away. “Each day, I feel like I’ll lose Eden a little more. I’m losing time that I won’t get back.”
His gaze softens, and a flicker of pain appears in his eyes. “And now you know how I felt when she disappeared that night,” he admits quietly.
His words land on me hard, placing blame on me for everything I’ve done to her. Driven by revenge, we’re both fighting for someone we love. But at what cost? How much longer can we keep going like this before we lose everything? Everything to me is Eden.
“Will you ever approve of me marrying Eden?” I ask.
His gaze remains on the ruined floor. “There may never be a marriage, Nikolai Gennadyevich.”
My heart clenches at his words, but I know he’s right. Gunsyn will continue to be a major challenge to my position and happiness. Tonight’s win is also a defeat, making it hard to imagine a future where Eden and I can be together again. But I can’t let go. We’re almost there.
“Eden has changed me, Zakhar Sergeyevich,” I confess. “For the first time in my entire life, someone else is more important to me than my own well-being.”
“Then become the pakhan the Bratva needs you to be,” Zakhar demands, turning suddenly to face me. “Don’t be like your father, but a better man.”
I stare hard into his eyes, demanding an answer. “What do you mean?”
“Your father and brother wanted power, nothing more,” Zakhar explains patiently. “Only when they were on the verge of death did they realize that being pakhans meant protecting those we love. It’s not just to remove obstacles in our path.”
I scoff, stopping him in his tracks. “Matvei died for me. He loved me enough to risk his life and lose it.”
Zakhar shakes his head. “Matvei was never going to live long enough to be a pakhan. It was a coincidence that it happened the way it did. Yes, he loved you, but he wanted to prove he was worthy of the power your father planned to bestow upon him. Pride drove him more than love. Love …” Zakhar sighs. “Love was the extra. A bonus for doing a good job.”
His words sink in as the responsibility settles on my shoulders. I’ve been so consumed by revenge and the need to avenge Matvei that I’ve lost sight of what will really matter—my love for Eden and our unborn child. Starting a family will save the Bratva, not killing my enemies. Zakhar’s words help me realize my love for my family sets me apart. It always has. It’s also driven me to make choices my father and brother would never have made.
“Power for the sake of love,” I murmur, understanding what Zakhar is trying to tell me. “I see.”
“Exactly,” he nods approvingly. “You can be the pakhan that Gennady never was because you have something he didn’t learn to cherish until it was too late. Love will make you stronger, more determined, and able to face whatever challenges try to drag you down.”
