And now? Now, none of that matters anymore.
I’m playing accidental wife in an actual Bratva mansion, trying not to get caught, trying to figure out if the man I married is planning to kill me, impregnate me, or both.
Awesome. Ten out of ten. No notes.
My fingers curl around the edge of the blanket as I take a deep breath. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I also know I don’t get to just fall apart.
I’ll figure something out. I always do.
Eventually, exhaustion hits. It sneaks up on me, wrapping around me like heavy fog.
Just before I drift off, I shift onto my side, cheek against the pillow. Petyr’s scent—it’s everywhere.
And God help me, I don’t think I hate it.
15
PETYR
I meet my men at the warehouse downtown, the one we keep off the books. It smells like oil and sawdust. The air hangs heavy with the kind of tension that comes when everyone knows shit is about to get serious.
“Let’s get to it.”
I look around the table. Lev, my second-in-command; Luka, his newly-appointed right arm; Mikhael, my cousin. Aside from them, myvory. With how volatile things have been, I prefer to keep these gatherings small.
“The Danilos have been overstepping their bounds. You all remember the hit on our dealers in Queens.”
Lev leans forward, arms braced. “I remember. You wanted to hit back then, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I did,” I confirm. “Hard and fast. But my father disagreed. He said I was too hot-headed, that it wasn’t worth risking a war over a couple of low-level guys.”
Luka shifts nervously. He still hasn’t gained the full confidence needed to speak at meetings like these, but Lev has been encouraging him. I’m not opposed. Hierarchy matters, but initiative matters more. God knows myvoryprefer to stay silent anyway, let the real talk happen behind closed doors, when I’m not there.
“What if they were just… testing us? Seeing how far they could go before we reacted?”
I nod, pleased with his intuition. “That’s precisely why I’m done waiting. The second we see one of their rats on our turf, we shoot first. This is not the time for diplomacy.”
Lev grins. “Been a while since we sent a message of our own.”
“Then let’s make this loud!” Mikhael slams his palm on the table, making a couple of the oldervoryjump in the process. “They want a war? We’ll give them hell frozen over!”
For once, I don’t disagree. My father should have handled this when thosemudakifirst started poking around.
Instead, he called a fucking meeting.
And then he and Dimitri got shot before they could even make it there.
Now, he’s dead, my brother is comatose, and I’m the one left holding the keys to the kingdom. So no, I don’t give a fuck if this isn’t what he wanted. If my actions are going to be taken as the pretext for a battle the Danilos have clearly been waiting for, fine.
They want war? I’ll give them a fucking bloodbath.
But first, I need all the other organizations in the area to see that I’m in charge. I’m not my father and I’m not saddledwith the same burdens of conscience and hesitation as he was.
We’ve got a weapons deal coming up with the Italians, something I specifically engineered to turn the tide in my favor. If we can close it, it’ll send a clear signal: The Gubarev Bratva is stronger than ever, flush with allies and resources, and anyone thinking of jumping ship to side with the enemy better think again.
“Here’s the full layout.” I spread the blueprints and shipment routes across the table. “Timing, logistics, fallback plans. Nothing gets missed.”
Lev scans the map, nodding. “We pull up here, drop the decoy, and shift the real load down Queens Boulevard?”
