“I’m not sitting through some slideshow about goddamn animals!”
“This is the Bratva, not the fucking Dr. Phil show!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Grigory snarls. “You’re doing it. I’m not having my men going on rampages and stabbing each other just because some of you don’t know how to engage your brain before you fucking speak.”
Soon, we’re watching a presentation onRespecting emotional support animals and their owners. One slide reads: “Avoid comments that compare cats topussyand other crude nicknames.” Nikolai shoots a scowl at me. Another slide: “Refrain from comparing emotional support animals tooversized rodents, regardless of size, shape, or factual truth.”
As if any of this is going to make me feel better.
Because there’s only one thing that will ever make my world whole again. Having Avelina back and us being a family again. Avelina, me, Sofia, Leon, and Queenie. But it’s something that’s not going to be possible—ever.
And it’s all still too raw. Because it doesn’t matter how many rules Grigory makes or how careful the men are around me. What it comesdown to at the end of the day is that Avelina’s not here. Queenie’s not here. The kids aren’t here.
And I’m not okay.
After an hour, the meeting finally ends, much to the relief of the other men. I find myself in the back stairwell. It’s quiet. Cool. Dim.
Perched on the stairs, I drag my hands through my hair and exhale.
I’m still at a fuckingten. My mind and body won’t stop racing.
Someone clears their throat.
I look up.
Grigory stares at me. He leans against the banister. “So, you’re done stabbing your way through our men, yeah?”
I don’t answer.
“You look like shit, Vik.”
“You said that yesterday as well.”
“And yet it’s still true. You wanna talk about this shit?”
I glare. “Do I look like I fucking want to talk?”
“No. You look like you want to go a few rounds with some drywall until your knuckles bleed.”
My eyes drift to my battered hands.
“Look, if you keep going this way, you’re going to end up broken.”
“I think I already am,” I murmur.
“Why?”
“She left.”
He quirks a brow. “Didn’t you say it was for the best? And you didn’t stop her.”
My shoulder slump. “I couldn’t. She…she’s such a good person. Happy. Sunshine.” The words feel like glass in my mouth. “I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t orwouldn’t?”
“Does it fucking matter?” I snap.
He studies me. “It does. Unless you plan on crawling into a fucking hole and staying there for the rest of your life. She didn’t leave, Vik. She asked you to go with her, right?”
