I allowed her the hug, even if I was stiff. My reaction had nothing to do with her. I felt betrayed, uncertain if my own brother had known the truth and had lied to me over the years. While I wanted to forgive my father and uncle, I didn’t think I had the capacity to do so.
At least not right now.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine and you’re not going to be fine until we get them back.” She pulled away, gripping both my arms. “Try and remember Mikhail is your cousin first, your Pakhan second.”
“Not according to him.”
“That’s bullshit. I’m sorry, but it is,” she insisted. “They’re outside on the deck. I refuse to have arguments in the house. Just go easy on them, Sasha. They’ve been through a lot as well.”
I wanted to argue with her, but what was the point? “My goal is to get the woman I love and my daughter back. I will do that.”
She squeezed my arm and for some insane reason, it felt almost like a goodbye.
I was the last one to the party. Both Nadia and my cousin Katya had joined us, Halle, Fallon, and Marissa as well. Bristol trailed behind me, taking her place on one of the barstools. I found it interesting that she was sitting at a distance from Mikhail.
So were the other wives and girlfriends.
We were a strange lot, yet we all had our own opinions. What surprised me the most was seeing my mother and Aunt Tatiana in attendance. While we’d long known the two women ruled the respective families, given our shift into legitimate business, they’d only attended family celebrations.
Obviously, they’d been made aware of why the meeting had been called.
I wouldn’t waste anyone’s time.
“Selena Martin, my deceased wife, was actually Natasha Antonova.” I waited as the bomb dropped, scanning the face of everyone in the group.
Only four knew what I was talking about.
Aunt Tatiana, Uncle Boris, and my mother and father.
The others were thoroughly confused. Although within seconds, Mikhail narrowed his eyes. “Why do I know that name, Pops?” he asked with grit in his voice.
“Yes, I’ve heard it as well,” Vissarian threw in.
“Then you’ve likely heard of the Petrov family as well.” I stood with my hands in my trouser pockets, trying my best to keep my shit together. I knew time was of the essence and from what I’d learned from my contacts, the plane had flown into Moscow six days before.
Since we hadn’t heard anything at all, no threats or any point of contact, my instinct told me that Uncle Yuri was hoping, if not planning for our arrival. It might just be me and Bernie, but that would be enough because it had to be.
“The three Bratva families controlling Russia many years ago.” Mikhail’s voice had a clear tone, one of authority and one that indicated that he was angry. “Two still hold great power today.”
But not with me.
“The Antonova family was all but crushed years ago.” Mikhail tried to lock eyes with his father, but was refused.
“Very good,” I told him. “The daughter Katerina was supposed to marry a member of the Dmitriyev family. Yuri Dmitriyev. That would have made the combined family the most powerful syndicate in the world. They would have controlled everything including the government, crushing the Petrovs in the process as Yuri and our grandfather before him had attempted for years. But someone didn’t want the union to happen. Isn’t that right, Pops? You and Uncle Boris couldn’t allow the marriage to happen because you were already in opposition with your own brother.”
“What the hell is Sasha getting at?” Kazimir asked, still as confused as Alexsey. But Mikhail and Vissarian were cluing in. They’d been children when taken from their homes and beds in the middle of the night, but they weren’t so small that they hadn’t known something terrible was going on.
And their lives were about to change.
“Are you going to tell them, Pops? Or should I?” I was calmer than I’d anticipated, only my rapid pulse giving away my rage.
“It’s not what you think, son.”
“Don’t lie to him any longer, Ivan,” my mother hissed. “He deserves to know the truth.”
“We all do, Mother. With all due respect. We all do,” I told her, now holding my breath.
