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Elena shrugs. “Yes, we’ve never been close. I ran away when Sasha was what, eighteen? I don’t even know. Her father has always been kind of a dick, so I stayed away from them even when I was there.”
I frown. I didn’t know that Alex had problems at home. She never talked about her family, which isn’t surprising considering she was a spy, but still…
“What do you mean? Aren’t all Russians freaks?”
Elena purses her lips and gives me a glare. “No. It may be hard to believe, but not everyone in my family is an asshole—at least, not as much as Nikolai. He’s almost as cruel as Yuriy, and he’s obsessed with his position in the family, so he’s loyal to Yuriy like a dog. God, I don’t even want to think how many people the two of them have tortured and murdered without a reason.”
And that’s the person Alex grew up with? I swallow, tightening my grip on the armrests. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I shouldn’t even care, but…damn, why does it make me so pissed?
“Actually, you know what…” Elena hums and tilts her head with a thoughtful frown. “I think I’ve heard something about them from my sister. She mentioned that one of yours killed Valentina a few years ago, and Sasha has been living with her father since then. I’m not sure if it’s true though, I’d have to check.”
What? I turn to Elena with a sudden wave of anger in my veins. “Why would she still live with him? It makes no sense, she’s almost thirty!”
As if my words upset her, Elena lets out a deep sigh and looks away, shaking her head. “My family has very…traditional views. Girls have to stay with their parents until they find a good husband for their daughter—and by good, I mean someone who fitstheirinterests, not the girl’s.”
Oh. I blink, trying to process it. Attitudes like this still exist?
“It sounds…medieval.”
Elena shrugs and chuckles, but it sounds bitter. “Yeah, well, that’s how Yuriy keeps the family ‘clean and Russian.’”
She does the quotation marks in the air, and something tells me that she’s been told this plenty of times in her childhood. I mean, I’ve heard that the Pushkov family has weird traditions, but I didn’t think they went that far. Although, perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. Marriage of convenience is a common thing in the Mafia world, but for some reason, when it comes to Sasha, I feel agitated at the thought of her being kept with her father like a prisoner.
But, wait—
“What about her child?” I turn to Elena and see a look of confusion in her eyes. “When we were dating, Alex—I mean, Sasha said that she had a baby. Where is it now?”
Elena just looks at me for a moment with a frown. “I’ve never heard anything about it. Are you sure that’s what she—Wait, you weredating?”
Ah, shit. I guess Elena wasn’t around when that happened. I rub the back of my head with an awkward chuckle, thinking how to explain it when a sudden yelp interrupts me.
“Mom! Mommy, I’m done! Can you check it? I’m sure I—Oh, Louis!” Max stops for a moment at the base of the stairs before lunging toward me with an excited grin. “Do you wanna play? I’m so much better at Mario Kart now, I’m gonna beat you! Mom, hurry up!”
“Why don’t you calm down, young man?” Elena quirks an eyebrow at Max, and he obediently casts his gaze down and purses his lips.
Max always brings a bit more chaos into the room, but that’s what I adore about him. Even now, despite trying to act polite, he keeps bouncing in excitement while Elena takes a stack of notebooks from his hand. I guess it’s a good hint that it’s time to close the conversation, but there’s one last thing I want to ask of her.
“Elena.” I look at her, and she hums before tearing her gaze away from Max’s crooked handwriting. “Can I ask you for a favor?”
Chapter 4 - Sasha
I drive my car off the street and pick up speed, keeping my eyes on the silver car a hundred feet away from me. These goddamn rats are good at sneaking away.
“Sasha, do you see them?” I hear George’s voice from the speakers and nod before it occurs to me that he can’t see me.
“Yes, they’re in front of me,” I report automatically and glance to the side before gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I’m driving past Costco. The bastards want to get to I-94.”
The freeway will give the Mexicans a chance to slip out of our grip, and I don't know why but the thought pisses me off. I'm tired of the Escarra family and their relentless attempts at stealing our resources and claiming our territories. They behave like actual rats, showing up in groups, sneaking right under our noses, and showing their tiny claws as soon as we smoke them out of their hideouts.
I want to get back at them and force them to surrender, so I focus on the road in front of me and honk at the car trying to make a turn at the intersection.Get the hell out of my way!I guess the driver gets the hint when I shoot right in front of his windshield at eighty miles per hour. But I’m still in the Bratva’s territory, and there’s nothing that can stop me.
“Okay, Sasha?” George checks on me after a few seconds of radio silence, and I hum.
“Yeah.”
“Boris is following you.”
I glance at the rearview mirror and see his red car making its way through the intersection. Who drives a red car during a chase? I barely keep myself from rolling my eyes and turn my focus back to the Mexicans. God, what an arrogant dude.
