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“Isn’t that reason enough?” I responded coolly.
Igor tipped his head to the side, weighing his answer. “You and Niko have learned a lot climbing the ranks to leadership, but you didn’t experience—and I pray you never do—what it takes to carve a motherfucking syndicate out of the ground. All this, I built for you two.” Igor gestured to the room. There was a pause, where neither of us spoke to contradict our elder. Finally, the pakhan continued, “So you tell me, is it enough of a reason to risk all this and shit on a friendship because that friend played us false?”
“We should never make a decision out of fear or avoidance of war, pakhan,” Nikolai said quickly.
“And we should always look to our own interests, not worrying about how our friends think—so long as our brotherhood fears and loves us but never hates us,” I added.
Igor considered the answers. The crinkle near his eyes said he might be pleased, but it was hard to say. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes,” we responded in unison.
A smile broke over my uncle’s jowls. “Then I congratulate you on your studies of political philosophy.”
“Thank fuck for audiobooks,” my cousin muttered.
But there was one more thing that needed saying. “Uncle, I’ve shown you that my reasons for breaking this had the Bratva’s best interests at heart. But I would be lying if I told you there wasn’t a more personal reason. I want to be a free man.”
The timing couldn’t have been any more perfect when Anton knocked, and at the affirmation of my uncle, opened the door. Sophia brought the first tray in, and Briana came in close behind her with the second.
“I’m going to marry Briana,” I announced firmly, adding, “when Iofficiallyask her.”
Bri pressed her lips together to hide the smile. But it was there in her eyes.
“And for my part, I intend to use my training for our family and the family business,” Briana said, straightening after she set the tray on the coffee table. “You can use my skills...dyadya.”
She’d called him uncle. I could only hope it flattered the old man.
“Are you truly prepared to join forces with the dark side?” Nikolai quipped, snatching a cinnamon raisin bagel and tearing off a hunk.
“I am.” Briana took two steps and folded into my personal space. We didn’t touch, but then we didn’t have to. Sitting this close, our alliance was clear.
“Well, plemyannik, how do we get out of this mess?” Uncle Igor rose and came to the coffee table. The jar of beluga caviar sat next to the lox. He smeared cream cheese on the bagel, then stuck the salty eggs into the spread before topping it with the smoked salmon.
My mouth watered.
“We want Volkov to deal with the Serbs. It’s his mess, and he should clean it up,” Briana said, voice taking that authoritative tone she’d honed over the years around the negotiation table.
“And how do we puppeteer Andrei into that role?” Nikolai asked as he started on his second bagel, and this time he spread Sophia’s mixture of brown-sugared cream cheese on it.
It was the question I was waiting for. “Jakov wants a bride to settle the spilled blood. It’s not the money I’m so much opposed to as the price. Shouldn’t the party responsible for this mess clean it up?”
I could feel Sophia’s panic. Bri stepped into her, and they did that thing where they side-hugged each other for comfort.
“I’m not suggesting Volkov actually give his daughter to our enemy,” I quickly continued, “but I want him to have skin in this game. He comes here, claiming insult over my appearance in NYC, and yet he’s got a spy in our ranks.”
“What if we don’t want to reveal that we know about the spy? And if we do tell him, what if he doesn’t know the spy is causing this trouble and doesn’t want to clean up the mess?” My uncle spoke around the bagel mushed in his gob.
I hid my wince with a shrug. “Respectfully, does it matter if we keep that card?”
Sophia cleared her throat and spoke for the first time. “I have enough leverage on Volkov that he’ll be motivated to sort things out with the Metak Gang, even if you decide to keep the knowledge of Dmitri’s origins secret.”
“Of course, you do,” Nikolai murmured, sitting up and holding out his arm for a hug.
Bri let Sophia slip into our cousin’s embrace and came back to stand by me. I didn’t realize how tense I was until I relaxed at her obvious show of support.
“There’s one more problem,” Uncle Igor said, swiping tiny fish eggs from between his teeth with his tongue. “We can’t just kill Dmitri and make it look natural, especially if I don’t tell Volkov we know about the spy. Dmitri is well liked and connected—he had to be to get this high in the ranks.”
“And Volkov will see it as war and might not help even with the evidence I have,” Sophia added.
