Chapter 42

42

NIKOLAI

" I f he wants to strike a fucking deal, then make the fucking deal," I snarl through my teeth.

"No," Aleksandr snaps, hunched over the opposite side of my desk. His eyes are sharp and deadly, grilling me to the spot. "He wants his freedom or your death."

"He has Gwen, so we make the fucking deal." My voice rings of finality, but the laughter from Nadia forces Aleksandr and I to snap our necks in her direction.

Nadia sits side saddle in a chair, filing her nails with an annoyed look on her face. "Oh, don't look at me. I didn't hide your children for the last five years and then weasel my way back into your life just to get myself kidnapped."

"Watch your mouth." I slam my hand on the table, growling out my words.

Nadia's eyes narrow on me and feral sneer spreads across her lips. "Make me, сука."

"Enough." Aleksandr steps between Nadia and I, breathing heavily with a look of apprehension on his face. "We cannot make a deal if that means he gets his freedom. It's that simple."

"And letting Gwen die is not an option," I counter.

"So we kill him," Aleksandr agrees.

Nadia stands with a look of horror on her face that makes me roll my eyes in annoyance. "No."

"No?" I lean closer to Nadia with narrowed eyes. "So what do we do, Nadia? What do you fucking want me to do, if I am not allowed to murder the man who has my woman looking like this!" I toss my phone onto the table with the picture of Gwen bloodied, with a swelling eye and a busted lip.

Nadia doesn't look down at the phone and flares her nostrils at me. Her voice comes out softer than I expect it to. "He's our father."

I swallow dryly and look down at my hands. "He is your father."

Nadia sighs. "Nikolai, please."

"No," I cut her off. "He is not my father. He may not be yours either."

"What are you talking about, Nik?" Aleksandr questions evenly, his shoulders rolling back with tension.

I pause, running my hands together, avoiding both of their eyes.

"Spit it out, Nikolai," Nadia seethes.

The room is thick with tension, the air practically crackling around us with charged energy. I glare at Nadia, her words echoing in my mind like a curse. He's our father. The phrase churns in my stomach, and I want to swallow the words back, just say I am bitter and consumed with the grief of missing Gwen, but I can't bring myself to lie when the truth is so close.

"He's not my father," I repeat, my voice low and cold, my tone grates against the fury simmering just beneath my skin. "He may not be yours either."

Nadia's expression shifts from annoyance to something darker, more volatile. Her eyes narrow, her fists clenching at her sides. She leans closer to me across the desk, her lips twisted, fury dancing across her eyes.

Aleksandr's voice cuts through the silence, calm but tight, like he can't breathe. "What the hell are you talking about, Nik?"

I take a deep breath, my hands rubbing together as if trying to cleanse themselves of the truth, like this is my sin and not our parents'. The words stick in my throat, heavy and bitter. "Mother… She cheated on Boris religiously. He found out, tested to see if I was his, and when I wasn't, he killed her for it."

"Shit," Aleksandr whispers but it is barely audible due to the sound of Nadia's hyperventilating.

Nadia's face contorted with rage, her body trembling and her stiletto nails dig into my mahogany desk. "You're lying!" she hisses, stepping closer to me, her breath coming in sharp bursts. "Are you fucking insane, Nik? Do you even understand what you're saying?"

I lift my head to meet her gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. "I'm not lying. Boris found out she was unfaithful, and he killed her. That's the truth. He may not be your father."

Nadia's eyes blaze with fury, her nostrils flaring as she struggles to contain the storm inside her. "So you've been lying to me all along?" Her voice is venomous, each word dripping with disdain. "How long have you fucking known?"

I slowly blink before whispering, "Three years."

"Господи!" she gasps, shaking her head silently. "You know, I expect this from Aleksandr because he doesn't know any better. He can't feel what we do, but you? You knew all this time and kept quiet. You kept us in the dark while our mother rotted in a box somewhere, and for what?"

"Nadia-" I whisper, trying to get out an apology but she continues.

"You did this because of the fucking Bravta. I can see it in your eyes." Nadia sucks her teeth, placing her hand against her head.

"One of you would have to kill me. If the truth came out and either one of you were the rightful heirs, you would have to kill me, Nadia. You know the rules."

"I would have never killed you!" she screams. "We would have found a way."

"Nik is right, Nadi. He's right," Aleksandr whispers, peeking at her from the corner of his eye. "We would have to kill him, or we have to kill Boris first. If anyone finds out, they will deem us weak and kill us all. This needs to die here."

"Alek, he…you can't expect me to-" Nadia stutters.

Aleksandr's voice is calm and measured as he speaks. "We're not talking about whether we're bastards or not. We're talking about life or death.

"We're talking about how to save Gwen." His gaze shifts to me, his expression calculating. "Nikolai, focus. We cannot let Boris go free. "

"And letting Gwen die is not an option," I counter, my voice hardening.

"So we kill him," Aleksandr agrees, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

"No!" Nadia's voice rings out, her hand slamming down on the table. Her outburst draws our attention, and I can see the horror etched into her features. She's not just angry; she's terrified. "No," she repeats, her voice softer this time, almost pleading. "He's our father."

I shake my head, my jaw tight. "He's not our father."

Nadia's breath catches in her throat, and for a moment, she looks like she's going to break. But then she squares her shoulders, her eyes burning with hell fire. "You can't take him away from me, Nik. You can't take away the chance for me to know if he's truly my father, or Alek's."

"We can't take that chance, Nadia." My voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. "He's too dangerous. We don't know what he'll do if he's free."

Aleksandr's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, cold and precise. "Enough. We're not making a deal with Boris." He pauses, his gaze shifting to me.

"Ok, so we track him and kill him." I nod.

"No." Aleksandr's smile is sinister. "We're going to make a deal with the Yakuza."

I blink. "The Yakuza? How are we going to do that?"

Aleksandr's expression remains unreadable, his tone clinical. "I know where Sho Matsumoto, the son of the head of the Yakuza, is. There's a rumor that there's a bounty on his head, and Sho owes me a favor. "

I narrow my eyes at him, suspicion gnawing at me. "We're going to trade one man's life for another? That's your plan?"

Aleksandr's gaze doesn't waver. "This isn't about Boris, Nik. This is about getting Gwen back. Sho has connections, power that we can use. If we do this right, we can save Gwen and capture Boris long enough for DNA tests." Aleksandr's gaze flickers back to Nadia. "But father or not, we can't keep him alive any longer than necessary."

The room falls silent, the weight of Aleksandr's words hanging heavy in the air. I can feel every fiber of my being screaming that this is wrong, but then I see the image of Gwen, her face bruised and battered, and the fear and desperation claw their way to the surface.

Nadia looks up at Aleksandr, her voice barely more than a whisper. "And if Sho doesn't help us?"

Aleksandr's smile widens, the shadows in his eyes growing darker. "He doesn't have a choice."

My eyes flicker to Nadia, her hands trembling but her jaw set in determination. I turn to Aleksandr, trying to read his stoic expression for any hint of doubt or fear. But his face is like a marble statue, giving nothing away.

"Fine," I finally say, my voice hollow. "But if this goes wrong, we're all dead."

Aleksandr's smile fades, his gaze steely. "Then we better make sure it doesn't go wrong."

GWE N

I know nine days have passed. How do I know this? Because Boris has lunch with me everyday. A ham and cheese sandwich with mustard and mayo, wavy Lays potato chips, and water everyday like clock work. If I don't eat with him, then I don't eat at all.

He's even upgraded my basement to include a cot and a long metal chain that lets me move about six feet in all directions. I can only walk to the stairs, a bucket that acts as my bathroom and a small table with two chairs where we have lunch together everyday.

Every lunch starts and ends the same way. He asks me questions about myself, and I respond with questions about Johanna, Nikolai's mom, which normally results in him knocking me out via a punch to the face or an injection.

Boris comes down the stairs with our normal lunch, two flute glasses, and a green glass bottle with gold accents.

I cross my legs on my cot, looking at him from the corner of my eye. I sigh. "Are we celebrating something?"

"I'm celebrating," Boris says in a melodic tone, placing the glasses down he beckons me over.

I make my way over to Boris with a bored expression and the music of my chain rattling against the concrete floor as I sit in my plastic folded chair. "You didn't come here because you thought I'd be happy for you, did you?"

Boris slides me my sandwich and laughs. "You can be happy for you, because I just sent Nikolai that picture of you last night."

"Excuse me?" I sit up bone-straight. "You took that a week ago, why send it now? "

"Because I've made it so he has to agree to my terms, and your boyfriend is so infatuated with you, he will walk right into my trap." Boris smiles smugly as he pops the cork to the champagne.

"Trap? Boris, what did you fucking do?"

Boris's laughter echoes in the cold, damp basement as he pours the champagne, his every move deliberate and unhurried, as if he's savoring the moment.

"You see, your precious Nikolai and his siblings think they're clever," he says, handing me a flute of champagne as if this were some casual celebration. "They are probably planning on using their connection to Sho Matsumoto to plot against me."

"Who's Sho Matsumoto?"

"He is the heir to the Yakuza, or he was." Boris shrugs, opening up his sandwich. "Until he betrayed his uncles during a deal and was exiled out of Japan."

"So they are going to trade Sho for me; seems like your plans are falling through, B." I smirk, twisting my lips in satisfaction.

"I already made that deal with the Yakuza, darling." Boris's smile spreads so large I can feel it invading my chest. "In exchange for my escape, or better yet the throne to the Bratva, I will give them Sho, dead or alive."

I stare at the glass in my hand, the bubbling liquid mocking me. "You're using your children as pawns. They won't hesitate to kill Nik or Sho the minute they see them, will they?" My voice trembles, and I hate that he can hear my fear.

Boris smirks, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "Exactly. Killing two birds with one stone, as they say. Once they're out of the way, I'll be back on top, reestablished as the head of the Bratva, with the Yakuza at my back."

A wave of nausea washes over me as I struggle to keep my composure. "You're a horrible father. How fragile is your ego if you're doing all of this just because your wife cheated on you?"

His eyes darken, but the smile never leaves his face. "This isn't about ego, Gwen. This is about preserving a true Russian heir. One who isn't tainted by infidelity. One who isn't fathered by a fucking American."

My breath hitches in my throat. "You know who Nikolai's father is?"

"I do, but he's a little harder to get closer to. I need the Bratva to kill him, and he knows I'm coming." Boris smiles to himself and I can see how his eyes twinkle. My stomach rolls.

"You sent him her head, didn't you?"

"You know me so well, Malyshka." He leans forward on the wobbly, plastic table. "If you play your cards right, I might even take you as my next wife."

I recoil in disgust, nearly dropping the glass. The thought of being tied to this man in any way is enough to make me want to vomit. "I'd rather die."

Boris chuckles, as if amused by my defiance. "At this point, you might, so not a far fetched dream to aspire to."

Just as he raises his glass to toast, his phone rings. He glances at the screen, and his eyes light up with twisted amusement. "Speaking of the devil," he murmurs, before answering. "Nikolai, how nice of you to call. "

My heart leaps into my throat. Nik. He's calling, and he has no idea what he's walking into. I can feel the panic rising, but I force myself to stay calm, to think of a way to warn him without giving away too much.

Boris listens to whatever Nik is saying, his expression smug and condescending. "Yes, yes," he says, waving his hand dismissively, as if Nik's words are of no consequence. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

Then, to my shock, he hands me the phone. "Here, talk to your boyfriend. He's so eager to hear your voice."

I grab the phone with trembling hands, desperate to hear Nik's voice, even if it's only for a moment. "Nik? Nik, are you there?"

"Gwen." His voice is like a balm to my frayed nerves, and I can't help the tears that spring to my eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Nik, but listen to me—" I take a deep breath, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "You need to be careful. Don't worry about me. They don't care if Sho is dead-"

Before I can say anything more, Boris snatches the phone out of my hand, his face twisted in anger. "You are such a predictable stupid bitch," he snarls, before slamming the phone down on the table.

The sound echoes in the room, and before I can react, his palm connects with my face, sending me crashing to the floor. The world goes black before I can even register the pain.