Mikhail
My bloodstained hands are a grim reminder of another wedding turned into a murder scene. My fists clench at my sides as rage and guilt swirl within me like a storm, threatening to break loose. I should be a married man, but instead, I’m planning how I can contain the blowback from my own wedding massacre.
The casualties were few, but one is too many. I let my guard down when I shouldn’t have.
I barge into my office, and the penthouse is once again my haven from a madman’s vendetta. I saved Maria from her father, but today, I lost Anton. A good man who sacrificed his own life like my brother did eighteen years ago.
My men have gone over every inch of the building, checking for anything that could signal another attempt on our lives, especially bombs. The tension is palpable enough to make its presence known, and every man is on edge after the attack, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The elevator chimes and sharp screams of obscenities replace the uneasy quiet. I turn my attention to the office door, and Mercy is flanked by two of my men in the open doorway. She fights them like a tornado ripping a house apart. Her red hair is a tangled mess, and her torn yellow dress has a black stain on the front. They must’ve tossed her in the trunk.
“Bring her in,” I order Pavel.
She’s led into my office, her wrists bound and her eyes defiant. But I sense a tiny drop of fear. I hope bringing Mercy here won’t be a strategy I’ll regret.
But more importantly, I hope Maria doesn’t walk in.
“Get your hands off me!” She tries to wrench herself free from Pavel’s tight grip. “Let me go!” she snarls.
I stand before her as the men block the door behind her, locking my gaze on hers.
“You’re here because only I can ensure your safety.” I smile coldly. “Don’t make things more difficult than they already are.”
“I don’t need your protection.” Her eyes narrow and she scoffs, spitting out the next word with venom. “Ivanov.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not up to you,” I reply. “Not anymore.”
“Am I supposed to thank you for this?” Mercy holds up her bound wrists.
“You’re no longer in the bubble your father created for you,” I reply. “And after what has happened, you’ve become a target. Time to wake up, Mercy and accept your place in a world that you’ve spent your entire life pretending doesn’t exist.”
Mercy stares at me, wheels turning in her head. In this moment, I’ve become her enemy.
“Maria!” she suddenly shrieks.
Maria steps into the office in her stained wedding dress, and Dominika follows right behind her. All hopes I had of Maria being too busy in the bathroom to care what the rest of us might be doing evaporate in that moment. Her eyes widen when she sees the state of Mercy, her golden hazel eyes scanning the torn dress and the bound wrists.
“What is going on?” Her gaze follows mine to Pavel’s face and stays on the angry red scratches on his cheek. “Answer me!”
“Your cousin refused to sit quietly on the ride back,” Pavel tells Maria. “If she had, we would have treated her better.”
“Treated me better?” Mercy scoffs at Pavel. “You touch me again, and I’ll feed your fingers to you through a fucking straw.”
I can’t help the weariness in my expression, but I keep my hand from rubbing my eyes. “Maria, if I let her go, she can’t protect herself …”
Mercy’s voice wavers as she says, “My family will protect me.”
I ignore her.
“She’s safer with us.” I stare into Maria’s eyes, and the desperate look on her face dissolves into knowing.
Her voice contains firmness as she speaks directly to Pavel. “Treat my cousin as a guest, and I promise she won’t lash out again.”
Mercy’s eyes widen in shock. “Marie …”
Maria gives Mercy a stern look, and she instantly closes her mouth. Mercy wavers a moment on her feet, looking a little defeated as she understands she won’t get what she wants, not even from her own cousin.
Maria motions to Dominika, who gets a pair of scissors and cuts the ties on Mercy’s wrists.
“Do not make me regret this,” Maria tells Mercy, her voice strained and hard. “You may think we’re being unkind, but you’re in danger until we prove who’s responsible.”
“Are you serious, Marie?” Mercy’s eyes stare at Maria as if she’s gone mad along with the rest of us. “Your father tried to fucking shoot us. What the hell is wrong with him? When I tell my father …”
“You won’t,” Maria cuts her off. “This is Bratva business. And the Bratva will take care of it.”
“Marie,” Mercy tries again, but Maria won’t acknowledge her pleading gaze. She turns to glare at me instead. “My father told you to take care of me, Ivanov. But it’s not you I trust; it’s my cousin.” Her gaze shifts toward Pavel, and her eyes fill with unadulterated anger. “And my threat to you still stands.”
Maria lifts her chin. “Dominika, show my cousin to my old room.” She then looks at Mercy. “You will stay there, you will rest, and I will come see you after I speak to Mikhail.”
She speaks in a tone that brooks no argument. Underneath the calmness of her words, I can sense something else. Something powerful. Something dangerous.
Mercy frowns, and her shoulders slacken somewhat. It seems that she can sense it too.
“You learned quick, Marie.” Her voice deflates somewhat.
She glances around the room, and the flicker of defiance in her gaze slowly gives way to cold ashes. She knows she has no choice but to obey Maria’s wishes. Calmly, Dominika leads her up the spiral staircase. The click of the bedroom door echoes in the silence of the office, and then the chaos begins again as Gunsyn and Alexander enter.
“You can’t keep her here.” Alexander’s gaze hardens on mine. “The woman is a threat. She is full Lanzzare.” His eyes go to Maria. “She won’t be so easy to tame.”
“Keep your hands off my cousin,” Maria warns. “You’re not taking her to a warehouse and holding her to do whatever your filthy mind pleases.”
“She’s a Lanzzare!” shouts Gunsyn. “She is not Bratva,” he scoffs at Maria. “And you’re barely Bratva.”
“We all know who is responsible,” Maria snaps back. “Why are you being pigheaded?”
“One wrong move,” Gunsyn warns Maria, “and I swear, I’ll?-”
“Enough!” My voice silences their bickering instantly. “If you’re afraid of wrong moves, then don’t make any.” I meet Gunsyn’s gaze with a nastier one. “I’ve made it clear she’s a guest under my roof. We will take down the one responsible for the attack.”
The angry voices quiet, and I pull Maria against my side, holding her tight. I glimpse our reflection in the tall windows. A gray image of a battered couple on what should’ve been the happiest day of our lives.
Instead, I’m debating a hostage’s fate with my brigadiers.
And later, I’ll arrange a funeral.
“Mikhail Ivanov,” Gunsyn says, his voice low and cautious. “I know you want to keep the girl safe, but my boys are questioning the decision already. They think having her here while Zakhar is on the loose is too dangerous.”
I clench my jaw to maintain control. “Am I your pakhan, or are they?” I ask evenly. “Zakhar is not interested in Mercy Genovesi. Besides, she saved my life, and I owe her for that.”
“Saved your life?” asks Alexander.
“I walked into a Lanzzare-owned establishment. And Ms. Genovesi treated me like a customer instead of calling her father. I was unarmed, without guards, and Maria was with me. Yet I left there alive and whole. She did the same for Larissa.”
“Did she know who you were?” asks Alexander in disbelief.
“Of course she knew,” I snap.
“With all due respect, Mikhail Ivanov. She’s not one of us.”
“Mercy Genovesi will one day be my in-law.”
Maria stiffens in my grasp when she hears those words. We were almost married. And I feel the disappointment as deeply as she does. She’s staring at our reflection in the glass, and then I notice something interesting-a look between Gunsyn and Alexander. Alexander stares at my father’s journals stacked on the coffee table. He cranes his neck to the side to read the binding, and when he looks up, he stares intently at me.
“Go out and find Zakhar.” My demand overshadows the brief moment that alerts me something is off. “And forget your quarrels with Mercy Genovesi.”
“And when we find him?” Gunsyn’s voice has a hint of a challenge.
I pull Maria closer. “End it.”
She looks away but doesn’t lower her head. Maria retains her poise as if these men answer to her and not to me. She doesn’t argue or plead with me for more time. What Zakhar has done has wounded her too deeply. The man is doing everything he can to ruin his daughter’s life.
And all for what? I ask myself bitterly. Revenge? Justice? Slighted honor?
Alexander gives me a low bow, and I notice his clothes are not as dirty as the rest of ours. He hesitates, looking at the journals again as if he wants to say something about them. Gunsyn makes a slight gesture that I would’ve missed if my gaze hadn’t been on him. I scowl as they leave, wondering if they’ll have better luck than me eliminating Zakhar now that I’m no longer holding them back.
Something tells me they won’t.