Mikhail
The room is silent as Zakhar reveals the pain he has felt for decades while hiding himself and Maria away. He sits down heavily, and I place a hand on his shoulder, understanding his desperation for his daughter and accepting the honor of his blessing.
Sorokin slams the gavel down again and says, “I’m glad to know that you will willingly accept your fate, Zakhar Sergeyevich.” He looks at Maria and me, his lip set in a scowl. But then Sorokin glances away and hesitates, almost as if he regrets what he has to say. “The oath has been broken, and our original judgment stands …”
Maria stiffens and reaches for my hand. “No,” she whispers, “I can’t lose everything I love. I won’t.” She looks at me, her eyes wide and desperate for reassurance. “Mikhail … no.”
Behind us the doors burst open, and Zhanna strides in, flanked by several women of the Bratva. Paige Barinov, Natasha Chuikov, Sonia Karamazov, and my own sister, Larissa. The men fall silent as the women make their way toward the table.
Sorokin slams the gavel, sending a sharp crack that echoes in the room. “Zhanna Nikolaeva, you don’t belong here. None of you do. Only pakhans during a hearing.” He gestures to the guards. “Take them out of the room.”
“Dima, what the fuck is this shit?” Natasha gestures at her husband. “Am I not a pakhan equal to you? Is that not what you swore to me onourwedding day?”
Dmitri Chuikov twists his head, nodding. And I can’t help but notice the shadow of a smirk on Andrei Barinov’s face.
Zhanna raises her voice over the racket. “Maria Zakharovna and Mikhail Ivanov deserve happiness together and with their child.” She stares down each man in turn. “It’s time to put an end to this cycle of violence and welcome life into this world.” She lifts her chin.
Sorokin’s face flushes, but his voice has lost strength. “Zhanna Nikolaeva, your counsel has been useful in the past, but it is best if you allow the men to handle this.”
Zhanna scoffs and taps her cane against a chair, then glares at a guard, who hurries to pull it out for her.
“Do you even hear yourself?” Zhanna asks. “You’ve become so obsessed with power and destruction that you’ve lost sight of what matters to the Bratva.” She points to Maria. “Look at this young woman, pregnant and standing before you with courage,” she continues. “Do you not see the life growing inside her? This child will have accomplished more by simply existing than the ocean of blood you have spilled in your wars.”
The change in the atmosphere is as if her words have shattered an invisible barricade. And I recall Maria standing in front of Delacroix’sLiberty Leading the Peopleat the Met-chin heldhigh as she strides forward, determined to escort change into our dismal, antiquated world.
“Dima, I swear to fucking God,” Natasha steps forward, staring down the guards, “you keep this up, andwe’regoing to have problems. Don’t forget, you’re still a shit shot.”
Zhanna jumps back in. “We demand that you honor life. And it starts with family.”
“Let them be together,” Paige Barinov demands. She walks over to Andrei, and he takes her hand when she places it on his shoulder. “Outsiders bring new blood. You know as well as I do how important that is.”
The room remains silent for a moment. I glance at Popov, who clears his throat.
“Zhanna is right,” Popov admits, “what choice was there for Mikhail Ivanov? If we had gotten involved in the feud, we would’ve had a full-blown war on our hands. Now, the traitors are gone, and we have a lasting truce. What more could any of us ask for?”
Dmitri hesitates but then nods slowly in agreement, never taking his eyes off Natasha. “Da. It’s pointless to keep resisting this.” He smiles when Natasha walks over to him and pats him on the back. “And my darling wifeisa better shot than me.”
My heart pounds as I watch the men change their minds one by one. It seems almost too good to be true. But Sorokin’s face remains hard. Finally, he looks directly into my eyes.
“A wise man knows when he is defeated.” He sighs. “You have our blessing this time, Mikhail Ivanov.”
I nod solemnly. “Thank you, Radomil Ivanovich. I will do everything in my power to ensure a plentiful future for all our families and the Bratva.” The pressure in the gloomy room dissipates like fog under the morning sun when Sorokin shakes my hand.
Paige Barinov whispers in Andrei’s ear, and he stands, addressing us with a warm smile. “I hear that your wedding was interrupted,” he says. “I would be honored to host the ceremony at my estate.”
Maria presses her hand to her chest, barely concealing her smile. “We don’t want to impose,” she replies graciously.
Andrei replies with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense. It’s about time we had a happy reason to celebrate.” He kisses Paige’s hand and then looks at me. “Happy wife, happy life is the best advice you’ll ever receive, Mikhail Ivanov.”
“Thank you, Andrei Vasilyevich,” I reply. “We would be honored to have our wedding here.”
“Then it’s settled,” Andrei announces, clapping his hands together. “It’s time to remember what we are fighting for and celebrate life.”
Suddenly, Maria gasps, her face twisting in pain as she falls to her knees.
“Maria!” I rush over. “What’s wrong?”
She gasps out again, and when she finally gathers her breath, she turns to me-emotion welling in her gold hazel eyes. “I think my water just broke.”