Chapter Eighteen

Nikk

A few days later, staring out into the packed parking lot, I wait in the hot Manhattan sun for Yegor to return. I’m possibly having a baby with a woman I’m falling for—a sworn enemy and it’s ripping me apart.

Banging my head against the headrest, several times, I dial up the radio pretending to listen to 98.6 FM and tune out my death plots for the L’vitsa. I should have killed her when I had the chance, but now here I am waiting on Yegor as my fate hangs in the balance.

I’ve never loved any woman. Truly. I’ve used them for my pleasure, and for theirs. It’s always been a mutual arrangement, and the women of New York, once they hear the rumblings about me, want a powerful man. That’s why they come. They believe their pussies can tame me, but I’m Bratva through and through. I cannot and will not be tamed. The ice in my veins froze over like a Russian lake long ago, right from when I was a young boy. I watched in horror when my mother was beaten and left for dead when she couldn’t pay her rent in the shitty Russian apartment.

My father Markum Orlov abandoned us at a young age, so I’ve never known the fucker, but I did know my own bloodline of uncles and other men of the community. Apparently, I have many of his features, but if I’m honest, I don’t give two shits about the man I was born to. The brotherhood is my only family. Always has been, and always will be. I’d seen the pictures of him in my mother’s bedroom, but turned them down sometimes as a boy, because to me, the man was a complete coward.

My own mother passed away long ago from disease, and maybe that drop of compassion, that little bit of light left in my soul, stopped me from pummeling Elena to death. She is with child, and if it’s mine, things are going to be done differently.

The fierce little Mancini is bringing up buried skeletons that I don’t like being dug into . Ever. Mine was a cold upbringing, much like those of my brothers from the former Soviet Union. We stayed in and out of trouble, evading the law as much as possible. I’ve done prison stints, but that was before I grew in the ranks. I had to be put through my Bratva paces like any other and have the scars to prove it. I’m grateful. The Bratva carved me from the soft shell I resided in and created a new one. One where I could never be outmaneuvered or crushed. I was the crusher and so were my brothers.

We were street soldiers, proving ourselves back then, but Russia was not where I wanted to make my mark. I wanted America. When I saw New York on our scummy television, I knew it was the place for me and my brothers to go. “There. We will take over New York. We will be the Bratva Kings.”

We agreed to get out any way we could, but I had to be smart, and it was done legally through my uncle who sponsored me in America, and then my way of life became that of a New Yorker, the insignia of the Bratva cleaning out the Sicilians until we took over. Slowly and steadily, we’ve been growing, and now I might be having a son borne of half of the enemy’s blood.

Fuck me. Frowning, I swear under my breath growing impatient in Yegor’s absence. It shouldn’t take this long. He’s taking too fucking long, and now the radio’s music is spiking my annoyance.

I’m a man with ice in his veins, and for Elena to have melted even a sliver of it, is disheartening. Elena. Elena. Elena. It seems she got her initial wish in a roundabout way to sleep on her own and in a separate room.

“I can’t stand the sight of you. You can sleep in the guest bedroom, and don’t try anything because I’ve got cameras all over the house. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but will you listen to what I have to say?” she asked meekly, and even with the red hand marks I left around her neck, I wanted her next to me in my bed.

“No. You know what you did, and you had plenty of time to tell me whatever needed to be said. Don’t try to play a game with me, Elena. It won’t work.”

Needless to say, I slept terribly, tossing and turning without her beside me. Her sweet perfume, and the warmth of her body next to me is a craving I’ve been spoiled with since I won her over, but now I’m paying the price, and I won’t let pussy get in the way of the brotherhood we’ve built ever again. My eyes glaze over as a kaleidoscope of images shift through my brain. All of them involving Elena and Matteo in bed together. There was a recording of them together, but I opted out of seeing it. The photos were enough for me to make my decision. Besides, if I looked at the recording, I probably would have smashed Bogdan’s phone to smithereens.

Still lost in my own dark world of betrayal, I miss Yegor sliding into the seat beside me, but I’m jolted back to reality as he closes the car door. He promptly hands me a large plain white envelope.

“Here. The results are inside.” My jaw flickers as I stare at the envelope for too long, not wanting the answer, and knowing that whatever is inside will change my life forever. I’m already racing ahead thinking the worst. If I have to kill Elena and to take out her family it will involve many steps. Some of those will include firearms and inside parties going into Sicily. It can be done, but it would be a tedious task. On the other hand, if it is my kid I’m locked in bed with the Mancinis for life, and therefore, so are the Bratva.

Blood pumps around my body in nervous fury as Yegor jumps in. “Are you going to open it? If you want to find out, you have to open it, Nikk.”

“I fucking know that, Yegor. This isn’t what I fucking need right now.” But there’s no point yelling at him because I shouldn’t have

“I don’t know about that. You should see what it says.”

“Alright, alright.”

As I open the envelope, I question Yegor. “Do you already know the results?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” Being a fearless leader is one of my strong suits, but today I have to control my shaking fingers as I read the results. Some of it being bullshit technical stuff, so I skip down to the answer, my heart pounding so hard the paper shakes even more.

The DNA is a match for Nikkita Orlov.

That’s all I need to see. Crumpling up the paper, Yegor takes it from me before I tear it up.

“Don’t do that. Keep it for record purposes. Looks like you’ve got a kid on the way.”

“Fucking obvious, Yegor. The question is, do I want one? And with Elena? She’s already fucked me over,” I tell him, bitterness laced in my tone.

How can Elena be carrying my child when she has no self-respect or honor to me as her husband. We both agreed to the terms, and she broke my trust. Sitting silently for too long, Yegor breaks into the rattling cage of my mind.

“What’s your plan about it?”

Sighing with a heavy heart, I shake my head. “The woman has no loyalty. What do you expect me to do, Yegor?”

Yegor clears his throat, adding in his own two cents. “You know initially I hated Elena, but after spending time with her, I’ve come to see how she’s valuable to us. She has a good head for business. More so than Bogdan. I’ve gotten to know her well in spending time with her.”

A child with Elena. A heir to our collective empires. I don’t have a clue how it’s going to work when our fake marriage contract is only supposed to be in place for a year.

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, Boss, I think there’s more to this story. Who took those photos? You should find out.”

Anger simmers inside me. “No. It doesn’t matter who took the photos. There’s recordings too. I don’t need to see them. Hard evidence, Yegor. She has no excuse for cheating; it’s clear that’s what she was doing at that hotel with him.”

Yegor doesn’t have a comeback. Just as I thought, but Elena is a different story, and this is the first time where I’m not one step ahead.