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“What defense do you have?” The grandpakhanseems half-amused, half-enraged. “I see papers that would be difficult to fabricate. I hear stories that make sense in the face of your own lies. My men have been stolen from. And you come in here, intomy house, to demand resources you have no rights to?”
Tolya sucks in a quiet breath.
“For your crimes against our Bratva, crimes against your family, and crimes which I am sure are soon to be uncovered after my men conduct a thorough investigation… you, Oleg Zakrevsky, who are not worthy of our name… your punishment is death.”
Like an idiot, Oleg laughs. “You can’t do this!” He struggles against the guards, laughing and shouting like he’s losing his fucking mind. For all we know, he probably has. “I’ve given everything to this Bratva! I have done everything for our family! You wouldn’t be where you are without me!”
GrandpakhanZakrevsky arches a calm brow. “Chestno govorya, ya dazhe ne znayu, kto ty.”
Damn.
I may not be fluent, but even I understand an insult when I hear one.
I don’t even know who you are.
Oleg is dragged from the room, screaming profanities and promises of retribution we all know he won’t be able to fulfill. This mansion is old—old enough for there to be an actual dungeon in the depth of the structure.
He’s not going anywhere.
“Tell me,” the grandpakhansays to Tolya and I once our father is officially gone, “what is it that you truly need?”
I look to Tolya. He shrugs. “I’ve just been released from prison for a crime I never committed.” He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “I’m still trying to figure out how to use my new phone. It will be a while before I can think of anything I might actually need. And, respectfully, I wouldn’t feel right asking it of you.”
The old bear stares at him. Blinks. Then shrugs. “Fair enough. I’ve heard of your plight, Tolya Zakrevsky, and I commend you for withstanding such injustice with far more dignity than you were raised by. For this, I think we can spare you some funding to help you get back on your feet.”
Thevorsmutter their agreements. Tolya bows his head, probably to hide the reddening in his cheeks. “Thank you, grandpakhan. I won’t waste any of your generosity.”
When everyone’s eyes turn to me, I know exactly what to request.
“I need to watch him die. With your permission, of course,” I quickly add.
He regards me curiously. “That is all?”
I hesitate. I want to tell him about how Oleg has haunted my nightmares for the majority of my life. I want to tell him how that man has so thoroughly traumatized Clara that I can’t even speak what little Russian I do know around her. He should know that Willow, a sweet little girl, now has bloodstains on her pillow because Oleg violently kidnapped her from my own home.
Instead, I keep it all to myself and go for the easiest explanation. “Never turn your back on an enemy unless you know for a fact that he’s dead.”
“Agreed.” He nods. “Done. I must admit, Demyen, I’m surprised to hear about this family of yours. You are not married? But you have a daughter?”
I can’t help but smile with pride. “It’s complicated. But I hope to rectify that soon. And, with your blessing, maybe bring them here for a visit someday.”
The old man bursts into a wide grin. “Keep yourself and yours in line as you have, and you will always be welcome here. Now, you will have to excuse us. Myvorsand I have some accounting to do.”
43
CLARA
Princess whines as we leave Willow to settle in for her new school day. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” I murmur to her as I rub her behind her ears. “It’s just another day at school. We’ll come back for her later, okay?”
I get a huff as my answer. It’s better than nothing.
Willow had wanted Princess to stay with her as the official mascot of her classroom, but without proper licensing—or the proper breeding—it was something we sadly couldn’t allow.
We could, however, be her escorts to and from the car. After everything these children have been through, it’s almost like Princess is the canine guardian angel they need to see padding along the sidewalk, closely watching over them as they hang up their backpacks and find their seats on the apple-patterned rug.
If I’m being honest, I keep Princess by my side at all times for more selfish reasons. I feel better knowing that, even without a gun in my hand or Demyen covering me, I have ninety-five pounds of muscle and fangs watching my back.
“C’mon, up you go.”
