Mikhail
Silence dominates the stuffy room as concrete trucks barrel past the double-hung windows, heading toward the long, towering chutes. We watch from the window as the truck is lined up beneath the chute before the concrete is poured. The large barrel spins methodically, taking a little sting out of my building anger.
I shake my head, clenching my teeth. “You spoke before I arrived.”
Alexander holds his palms up as if to calm me down. The condescending gesture only makes me angrier. “We could hardly ignore a pakhan while we waited,” he replies.
I fix him with a blistering look. “You’ve had plenty of practice ignoring your own.”
Gunsyn steps forward. “Mikhail Ivanov, we were only discussing the present situation while we waited. All facts you already know.”
I raise my finger to silence him. “Funny how we all found out at the same time, but you arrived here first.”
Alexander sighs. “We heard a rumor that led us to Twin Rivers. We didn’t want to spread lies until we knew it was true. Zakhar will continue to chip away at the Bratva until he has who he wants.”
“The Ivanov Bratva,” I correct him.
They look at each other, confused.
“It’s the Ivanov Bratva. I notice you rarely refer to it by name. My name.”
Gunsyn becomes heated as his smile slips into a scowl. “We are not against you, Mikhail Ivanov.
I raise my voice over his. “Ippolit is dead because he went against a direct order.”
Alexander adjusts his tone. “And we are still alive because we respect your wishes.”
“Not wishes,” I correct him instantly. “My orders.”
Pavel scoffs softly as he lifts his chin and avoids Gunsyn’s chastising gaze. “We have to go after the Lanzzare,” Pavel confidently replies. “We can’t let them pick at us until no one is left. We have to strike first, not look weak in front of the other Bratvas.”
Gunsyn turns his back on Pavel and faces me. “We want the same thing, Mikhail Ivanov.” He throws his hands in the air as if he is gathering strength. “We all want the same thing … revenge. But it’s a dangerous pursuit,” he continues with a distant look in his eyes, watching another truck rumble past the window. “And sometimes you wonder if the price was too much.”
I nod in understanding, though I don’t like the truth. The anger seeps out of me, seeing Gunsyn this way, knowing Ippolit’s death has hurt him. He rose through the ranks with Ippolit and Alexander as I rose with Pavel, Anton, and Rurik. Am I prepared to lose the men I know like brothers? Can I watch them make the same sacrifice?
“We do want the same thing,” I tell him in measured words. “But our approach will be mine. Go after the Lanzzare, but leave Zakhar to me. You will not steal his life away from me. I want him for myself.”
“Yes, Mikhail Ivanov. We have your best interests in mind whenever we act.” Gunsyn eyes a silent Pavel. “Please believe that.”
The two older men walk out together. I listen as Gunsyn speaks to Anton. His voice returns to its boisterous volume and they laugh, over what I don’t know or care about. Anton will always show Gunsyn unquestioning respect unless I tell him not to. I don’t want that. I’d rather not spite my face by cutting off my nose.
“What do you think?” I ask Pavel in a low voice.
“They either know something,” he replies, watching the door, “or they’re trying to cover something up. Whatever it is, Zakhar’s daughter knows nothing; otherwise she’d have been dead when they grabbed her. But if she finds out, she will end up dead.”
“I didn’t ask about her,” I reply coldly.
Pavel nods but won’t look at me. “But you think about her a lot, Mikhail Ivanov.”
When I return home that night, Maria is in her room, presumably in bed. I approve of Dominika spending time with her, but I’m surprised they’ve become so close. Dominika has a patience toward Maria that she never exhibited toward me or my siblings, but our situations aren’t the same. I watch Dominika descend the stairs, and she carefully avoids my gaze until her foot lands on the bottom step.
“She’s asleep,” she replies, anticipating my question. “Something was delivered.”
Dominka reaches into a pocket in her dress and produces a small key. She unlocks one of the cabinets underneath the bookshelf where the staff conceals cleaning supplies and pulls out a white padded envelope. It is sealed shut with layers of tape-something lumpy inside makes the bubbled surface protrude. “It was delivered to the ninth floor by a courier. The man didn’t stay to answer questions, and the rest of the staff didn’t grasp the importance.”
But Dominika grasped its importance when she was given the envelope. I take it from her hands and disappear into my office. But before I close the door, I face Dominika. “She’s safest with me,” I tell her. “You understand that?”
She nods and looks at the envelope. “Do you want me to soak it in water first?”
I shake my head. “They want to talk to me, not kill me. Not yet.”
She reaches out and grasps the hand that holds the envelope, and I’m transported back to my childhood when Dominika watched over us with a stern but caring nature.
“There is no reason to prove anything to me, Kolya.” She lets go and quietly disappears down the hallway as I watch her. I release a pent-up breath and mourn a past when I was clueless.