50. Andrey

50

ANDREY

"I've dug as much as I dared, boss." Gedeon is whispering into the phone. I have no idea where he is right now, but there must be other people nearby. "Asking too many questions could raise suspicions. I don't wanna blow my cover."

Gedeon is undercover on the far periphery of Nikolai Rostov's operation, picking up scraps of info that turn out to be red herrings or smoke in the wind more often than not. Still, it took careful planning and some serious stealth to get him even that close. I'm reluctant to jeopardize that for the sake of a brooding teenager.

So, discouraging as that is, it's what I expected.

"You made the right call," I say with a sigh. "If there was anything worth knowing, I'm sure we'd know it by now. But keep your eyes open just in case."

I hang up with Gedeon and try to get back to work, but Remi keeps barking outside.

It's the first time I've heard him all day. Ever since Misha started his tutoring, the two of them spend all of their time in the makeshift classroom I had set up for him.

I turn around, expecting to see Natalia and Misha out there fawning over the beast, but Remi is alone. Weird. Since the moment Remi arrived on the property, he's been glued to either Natalia or Misha. So where are they?

As if in answer to my question, my door bursts open and Misha careens into my office, sweating and panting.

"N-Natalia," is all he manages to get out.

It's enough.

"Where is she?"

Misha turns and starts running again. He's fast, but I keep up easily, following the boy all the way through the house to Mila's wing.

I know things are serious because Misha, despite being calm and level-headed since he arrived here, is frantic. Still, I'm expecting a medical episode—low blood sugar or something to do with the baby.

What I'm not expecting is to find my sack-of-shit brother groping the pregnant mother of my child.

Rage like I've never known floods through me, turning my vision red.

I'm not murderous. That word doesn't do it justice. It would make light of the way I want to shred my brother into pieces and burn them. The way I want to wipe him off the face of the Earth so no one will ever remember his name.

Natalia whimpers, angling as far away from Viktor as she can. Her face is ashen, frozen in horror at the hands of the motherfucker I'm forced to call my brother. Viktor is so intent on his prey that he doesn't notice his audience.

Huge mistake.

I grab his neck with every intention of snapping it in my palm and rip him away. Natalia wilts, crumpling to the floor where Misha hurries to catch her.

She's safe , I tell myself. It's the only way I can look away from her and deal with the human scum at my feet.

Viktor is bleary-eyed and dazed. Drunk . It's no excuse, though. I've made too many excuses for him over the years, but never again.

He opens his mouth, perhaps to apologize or beg for his life. I have no idea which and I don't give two fucks.

Before he can do either, I drag him to his feet, only to knock him down again with a solid blow to his face.

He buckles, following the momentum of my blow all the way to the tile floor where blood puddles around his head.

Satisfying as the punch was, it's not nearly enough to satiate me. There'll be time for that later, I console myself before turning to Natalia. She comes first.

Natalia is trembling on the floor, an arm thrown over her stomach, the other wrapped around Misha. He is holding her up, but he's also shaking, speaking so quickly I almost can't catch the words.

"—my fault. I'm so sorry. If Remi was with you, then—" He chokes in a breath. "Remi should have been with you. He's your dog."

It's a testament to the love that Natalia feels for Misha that she fights through her own fear to reassure him. She grabs his face. "No, Misha. None of this is your fault."

The boy is sobbing now, tears flowing like rivers down both cheeks. "But if Remi had been with you?—"

"Stop." Her voice is weak, but the command comes through loud and clear. She raises a trembling hand to cup Misha's face. "This is not your fault."

Her eyes flicker to Viktor's limp body, but I squat down between them, blocking my brother from view. Misha flinches back as though he's waiting for me to disagree with Natalia and blame him.

"Natalia's right, Misha." My voice is thick with anger, but it's not directed at the boy. "This is not on you. This is on him."

I turn to Natalia and take her hand. Her beautiful green eyes are cloudy, fighting to rise above the shock of her assault. "Did he hurt you?"

"H-he tried… Misha came just in time." Her eyes veer back to him and she makes a brave attempt at a smile. "You saved me, Misha."

The boy doesn't look convinced.

"What the hell?!"

I turn around to find Mila and Leonty standing in the doorway. Leonty's gaze is focused on me, but Mila only has eyes for the unconscious bastard on the floor.

"What did he do?" she breathes.

I can't tell them. If I do, I'll kill him here and now. Instead, I gently pull Natalia to her feet and pass her to Misha. "Take her to the pool house," I tell him. I nod at Mila. "You go with them."

Mila and Misha help Natalia out of the room, leaving Leonty and me with Viktor's unconscious body.

"He didn't," Leonty growls, shaking his head. "Even he isn't that stupid."

But he is.

"Round up the men," I instruct. "I want him moved to the gym."

Leonty doesn't bother asking further questions. He knows what's coming. It's not a tradition that's typical for members of the pakhan's family, but Viktor has just forfeited his right to immunity.

He'll suffer like he's nobody to me.

I'm carving my way across the house, more than ready to have this done, when I notice Yelena skulking in the archway. "What happened?" she asks.

I'm not in the mood for explanations, but she cared for Viktor since he was a boy, too. She has always been a kind of mother to him.

"Viktor thought he'd get back at me by cornering Natalia."

She gasps. "Did he…?"

"No. I got there before he could."

She nods once, pivots on her heel, and walks towards the pool house faster than I knew she was capable of.

I let her go.

I have a brother to torture.

When I enter the gym, Viktor is stirring on the rubber flooring, surrounded by my men. Natalia's entire security detail is here. So are Yuri and Efrem. Shura stands removed from the rest of them, his arms so tense that I can see the veins running through them.

"Efrem," I bark, "wake him up."

Efrem flings a bucket of frigid water onto Viktor's face, and he splutters awake.

Water drips from the end of his crooked nose and blood is congealed along the side of his face. He squints into the light, but he sees only me. I'm kneeling down, close enough I can still smell the liquor on his breath.

One glance around the room is enough for Viktor to realize there's no way out. He's surrounded by men who will kill him without hesitation as soon as I give the order.

His chest rises and falls erratically as he looks at me… and waits. When it becomes clear that no one's going to breathe a word until he does, he opens his mouth.

Nothing but hot air comes out.

He tries again. "I am your brother," he finally croaks.

"And you think that will protect you?"

"This is beneath you," he says. "It's beneath me. This tradition is reserved for?—"

"Traitors," I spit.

His eyes narrow. "I have done nothing."

"You put your hands on what's mine."

His face ripples with anger. "You let my wife fuck that —" He points at Leonty without looking at him. "—traitorous piece of shit and you claim this is my fault! You've made me a laughingstock! You've fucking ruined me!"

It's clear that the last few weeks haven't been kind to Viktor. He looks like an empty shell of the man he used to be. But any pity I might've had is nonexistent in the face of what I just witnessed.

"I never needed to lift a finger to turn you into a laughingstock, Viktor. You did that all by yourself. If you want to blame someone for ruining you, look in the fucking mirror."

Drool slicks his chin as he draws himself up on his knees as tall as he can. "I know my worth."

"Then you'll know that disposing of you would cost me nothing. In fact, I would only stand to gain." I get to my feet. "So don't fucking tempt me."

The whites of his eyes have disappeared behind thick, red veins.

"I know things," he blurts out, more spit flying from his mouth. "I know your secrets, brother. Don't forget that."

"Are you threatening me?" I ask in pure disbelief.

"I'm reminding you that I have the power to destroy you if I wanted to."

I take two steps forward, forcing Viktor to crane his neck back to look at me. I squat down in front of him and take his hand. "Then it's incumbent on me to remind you—" My hand tightens around Viktor's wrist and his eyes flare with panic. "—that you have no power at all here anymore. You made sure of that the moment you touched my woman."

Grabbing his index finger, I snap it back hard.

He screams.

His wail pierces through the quiet of the gym. But I've already moved onto the next finger. And the next. I don't stop until all five are mangled and useless.

If he acts fast, he might be able to put them back together. But they'll never be fully functional again.

He's still howling with a mixture of rage and alarm when I kick him back against the rubber flooring. I gaze down at him with revulsion. "You're no longer welcome in this manor. You're no longer welcome in my sight. Stay the fuck away from me and you might live."

Viktor is clutching his hand at the wrist, staring at his mangled hand. But I know he can hear me over his steady whimpering.

"You were right about one thing, though," I concede after a moment of thought. "You are my brother. So I will allow you to live in my safehouse in Hunts Point."

His desperate eyes meet mine. "You're exiling me?"

"A little rough living won't kill you. In fact, it might finally make a man out of you." I start to walk away as Viktor makes an attempt to sit up again. My vors close in on him, but I know they'll wait for my command.

"Andrey!" Viktor screams. "Andrey! You can't do this."

"You can begin," I tell my men from the doorway. "Just don't kill him."

I let the door fall shut on Viktor's hysterical screams.