38. Andrey

38

ANDREY

The door flies open and a six-foot-one mess lands on my Persian rug. He smells like shit. Between Efrem's bloodstains and Viktor's filth, I really will have to throw the damn thing out.

Shura fills the doorframe a second later, towering over my brother, who is trying and failing to peel himself up off my floor. Shura, ever the helpful one, "accidentally" kicks him on the way to my desk.

"Delivered as promised."

" Mudak ," Viktor growls, glaring up at Shura from where he remains plastered on the floor. He half-rises again, trips over the edge of the rug, and falls right back on his ass.

None of us move to help him. It takes a while for the whole circus to spin itself out, so Viktor is practically foaming at the mouth when he finally stands. His clothes are stiff with grime and every miniscule motion sends foul waves of stale smoke and booze wafting toward me.

"Jesus, Viktor." I wrinkle my nose. "You reek."

His bloodshot eyes swirl in their sockets as he focuses on me. "How dare you? If our father knew about this?—"

"Running to Daddy to tattle on me, Vicky?"

"My absence will be noticed."

"By the whores who warm your bed at night? I'm guessing they'll be relieved you're not around."

"Fuck you!" He swipes at the spit dribbling down his chin. "Listen, if this is about those cops who raided?—"

"How do you know about that?"

Viktor's mouth hangs open. My God—this is going to be even easier than I thought. I'd be pleased if I wasn't so repulsed instead. "What was the point of that stunt, Viktor? Trying to earn Papa's approval?"

"There's nothing to earn. Otets trusts me."

"The old man doesn't trust you for shit," I say. "He doesn't even like you. He tolerates you. For the moment, at least."

"I'm his right-hand man!"

The vile creature wobbling on his feet in front of me is so much more broken than I remember. I can't even bring myself to despise him. Pity is the only emotion left.

"One day," he says, "I'm going to rule the entire fucking Kuznetsov Bratva!"

Shura barks out a harsh laugh. "What self-respecting man would follow you?"

Viktor lists to the side, but manages to clamp a clammy hand around the edge of my desk to right himself before gravity drags him back down where he belongs.

"Who are you to talk?" Viktor crows. "Half your men aren't even loyal! They're coming over to our side in droves . They don't want you as their pakhan ; they want Slavik. After Slavik, it'll be my time."

"This is your time, brother," I tell him calmly. "As good as you will ever have it. Enjoy the drinking, smoking, and whoring while you can. It's all gonna end soon enough."

Viktor cackles like a madman, sounding lucid for the first time since Shura dragged his carcass in here. "You don't know what you're in for. Otets will win. He's got a big ally on his side. He doesn't need any of the others—the Brigade, the Halcones—none of them matter compared to—" His eyes bulge mid-sentence. Then he twists to the side and throws up.

" Blyat'. " Shura recoils in disgust.

Viktor is still dry heaving like a cat hacking up a hairball when I grab him by the scruff and shove him towards the door. "Get him out of my sight."

Shura takes over, hauling a slurring, screaming Viktor all the way to the front door.

But traces of him remain. My brother's vomit seeps into the carpet fibers, and I decide that merely throwing it away won't be enough. I'll have to burn it to get the stench out.

Half an hour later, Shura finds me next to the pool. He drops into the chair next to mine with a weary huff. "I dumped him in a ditch outside the brothel I found him in."

I nod, but the silence lasts no more than a second before Shura is back on his feet, pacing.

"He mentioned a strong ally. Do you believe him?"

I've done my own pacing for the night, and my answer is ready. "Yes."

"Do you think it's?—"

"I don't know."

Shura lapses into silence. His eyes are far away as he stares up at the cloudless night sky. Finally, he shakes his head. "He was a fucking mess, man. Even by Viktor's standards, that was low."

"I don't know what made him think he was better off with Slavik. He always saw Viktor as weak." I run a hand over my sore neck. "When I look at him, I'm disgusted by what he's become. The problem is, I also see the little five-year-old who used to follow me around and demand that everyone call him ‘Andrey Junior.'"

Shura's eyebrows arch. "He did that?"

"He wasn't always a broken mess. Somewhere along the way…" I exhale loudly. "Sometimes, I think I failed him."

"You did everything you could for Viktor. Including making excuses for him when he didn't deserve any. He was nothing more than your dead weight. Now, he's Slavik's dead weight. Until the old man cuts him loose, at least."

I look at him sidelong, trying to gauge how easily he could shove me into the pool if he doesn't like what I have to say.

"He would be easy to crack, Shura."

" Yebat'! Don't you think I know that?" He runs a hand through his thinning hair and swears again. "But it doesn't matter how easy the job would be. It would be her —Katya—doing shit that I ought to be protecting her from."

"She's a grown woman."

"So she keeps reminding me." He turns to me with fire in his eyes. "She won't talk to me because she says I treat her like property. Are you gonna stop talking to me, too?"

I keep my voice calm. "We both know I would react the exact same way if I was in your place."

"I sense a ‘but' coming."

I raise my hands. "Just a piece of advice: accepting who Natalia is has worked a lot better for me than trying to mold her into something she's not."

Shura curses once more under his breath, but he stops pacing.

"Natalia was never and is never going to be a traditional Bratva woman, Shura. She's got a mind of her own. Goals. It's the whole reason I could never convince her to quit her stupid day job. And, need I remind you, she started training with guns long before I knew about your lessons."

Shura cringes. "Are you holding that against me?"

"Not at all. It was the right thing to do. All I'm saying is, there was no point denying her the right to train. She found a way to do it anyway. I had to learn to let go a little. And, as much as it wasn't always easy, it's only made our relationship stronger."

Shura clicks his tongue in irritation. "I can't believe I'm taking relationship advice from you."

"I can't believe I'm giving it."

He plummets back into his chair with a groan. "What if Katya can't convince Viktor that she's on the outs with Natalia? What if he suspects that she's working for you?"

"We're not going to send Katya in blind, Shura. If she goes in, she'll have backup. We'll keep tabs on her constantly."

"Things can still go wrong."

"Katya's smart and resourceful. She can handle this."

"Fuck me," Shura moans. "I can't believe I'm actually considering it."

"It might be the only way to get Katya to talk to you again. She holds grudges, that one."

He folds his arms over his chest and scowls. "If it's the choice between never talking to her again and keeping her alive, I choose the silent treatment."

I turn to face him. "Nothing's going to happen to her. I give you my vow."

I can see the conflict in his eyes and I understand it completely. It goes against our very natures to put our women in the path of danger. He and I, we were born to protect. Born to bear the scars and the nightmares and the burdens so that others don't have to.

"Like I said, if you decide against it, I'll support that."

"I know. But… fuck me, you were right: I might not have a choice." He looks back up at the sky as if it's holding answers for him. "I need to go talk to her."

Shura rises from his chair and trudges to the house like a man making his way to the executioner's block. I don't envy what waits for him inside. I, for once, don't have to worry.

When I finally slip into my bedroom, Natalia is sitting by the window wrapped in one of my shirts.

"It's late, lastochka . You should be asleep."

She turns to me with a soft, sleepy smile. "I could say the same to you."

" Pakhans don't get to sleep."

She screws her face up with disapproval. "Then we're going to have to change that. Because I like going to bed with you."

She makes room for me on the window seat, and I slide in next to her. My arms wrap around her waist and she nuzzles into me with a happy sigh.

"Was that Shura I saw out there with you?"

"You were spying on us?"

"As a matter of fact, I was. I even cracked the window to try to hear you, but your voices didn't carry." She folds her hands over mine, twining our fingers together. "It looked like a serious discussion."

"Nowadays, they're all serious discussions."

"Anything I should be worried about?"

I genuinely consider telling her, but I'm tired of talking about it. I press a kiss to her forehead instead. "Nothing I can't handle, little bird."

She twists in my arms and cups my face with her palm. "You don't have to carry the burden alone, you know? You can talk to me, Andrey. You can tell me anything. We're partners now."

"You know what I really need right now?"

"Tell me."

"You," I whisper. "Just sitting here in the quiet with you."

She smiles and scoots closer. "I can handle that."