I seal my lips. This reaction—it’s not what I’m expecting. My father betrayed Lebedev as much as he betrayed Anton and Artur. My being here should please Yvan, if only for the fact that I’m now his to torture and kill.
Maya too seems perplexed. It occurs to me that she was probably found out much earlier than last night. Lebedev was using her as much as she was using him.
So why spare her?
Lebedev snaps his fingers, and one of his men drags a metal folding chair over. He sits beside Maya and me, looking as elegant and relaxed as if he were on a throne. “Your father went crawling back to his friends,” Lebedev says mildly.
“He was caught,” I say. “He had no choice but to throw himself on their mercy.”
Lebedev chuckles. “We always have a choice, dear.”
I press my lips together, nodding, acknowledging that this is true.
“So.” Lebedev gestures around us. “Did you think your coming here would soothe my anger? Pay penance for his sins? Protect that new lover of yours?”
I consider lying, or posturing. But what would be the point? And anyway, Yvan strikes me as a man who is honest when he can be, if only for the sake of fascination. “I thought you killing me would be enough revenge to free him. And yes. I hoped it would prevent Nikolai from coming here.”
Lebedev’s eyes glitter. “So. You are as brave and as foolish as he is.”
Brave. There’s a distinct fondness in the way he says this. I frown. I’m missing something here. But what? “Will it do?”
Yvan cocks his head. “What makes you think I want to punish your father? Has he not suffered enough at the hands of his own men? Have you not paid penance by being forcibly married into their syndicate?”
“But you were looking for me,” I say, recalling all Nik and his father have shared with me. “To kill me. To extort my father.”
“Oh, Zane. Your new husband and his family have poisoned you.”
Maya looks between the two of us, her eyes narrowed to slits. This is not what she expected either. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“I have been in this country for a very long time. But I have long been a hated man. You see, my family’s roots in this organization run far, far deeper than those of the Sokolovs. Yet this is their world. I knew it would take years and cleverness and patience to overthrow them, and take back what is mine.”
“What’s… yours?” I look to Maya, but she’s watching Lebedev in rapt, wide-eyed confusion.
“The feud between the Lebedevs and Sokolovs goes further back in history than I care to get into. But it was reinforced decades ago by Anton and Artur themselves, who thought to offer a truce to me and rescind it to my detriment. Unfortunately, the incident nearly crippled my syndicate, and I was forced into hiding. But I never stopped doing everything in my power to sink my teeth into theirs. Finally, my family succeeded.”
I don’t understand. But there’s something about him, I realize, that is familiar. “Have I met you before?”
“Ah. Yes. But you were so young then.”
“What the fuck?” Maya whispers, a hint of panic in her voice. “You didn’t tell me…”
“Oh, no. Well. I’ve told no one. Of course. For your safety, Zane.” His smile becomes sad. “Zane. You know that name comes from RussianZenaida? The name of my mother.”
My heart is in my throat. “What… what are you talking about?”
“Did you never wonder?” he asks, cocking his head. “In the five years you were apart from your father’s work, you were never once attacked. Never hunted or followed. You were never in danger, from me or the Sokolovs. And perhaps more importantly, young Maya here never came to any harm under my supervision. In fact, she too was protected. Safe. I have spared her here again. I admit in part I’ve become fond of her. Quite clever, this one, and she’d make an improvement over her father and uncle if put in charge. But the fact remains that I’ve protected her, Zane. Do you know why?”
My knees tremble. I can’t manage to speak, so I simply shake my head.
“Because I was watching over you. Always. Making sure your homes and workplaces were safe. Making sure those who entered your life did so naturally. I eliminated threats, you know. Many of them. The Sokolovs did not take well to your father letting his daughter simply walk away from the world they’d spent so long building.”
He speaks with such knowing. Such purpose. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Zane, that your father’s name has not long been Elin. And neither has yours.” He settles back, crossing one ankle over his knee and observing me with a complicated expression I can’t even begin to dissect. The only thing I’m certain I see in this man’s eyes is pride. “Once, not so long ago, your name too was Lebedev.”
21
Nik
