I swing my gaze to Vasily. “Did you know about this?” I ask incredulously, the shock clearly painted across my face like a shattered mosaic. “Have you known this entire time?”
Vas nods, his throat bobbing with unease as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “He named you the successor after you were married.”
“And he never changed it?”
Vas shakes his head.
Letting out a forced breath, I rub at my temples, a headache forming behind my eyes as my irritation and disbelief grow. “I don’t understand,” I admit. “Matthias was planning on divorcing me. Why would he keep me named as his successor?”
Tomas coughs and turns to his son expectantly.
“Why indeed, Vasily?” His father cocks an eyebrow at him as he brings his drink to his lips. The man scowls at his father, eyes burning like fiery coal.
“He wasn’t planning on divorcing you, Ava,” Vas murmurs, his eyes softening as he looks at me. “Yes, Ben drew up the paperwork before…” He trails off.
“Before what, Vasily?” I hiss at him, my throat clenching as a sob threatens to tear through it. “Before he took Serena to the gala? Before he kissed her?” I let that sink in, noting the shame that crosses his face. “Or maybe it was before he told Maksim that as soon as the gala was over, we were finished. That all he needed from me was information.”
Vas takes in a long breath, his hand running down his face. He lets out a frustrated sigh, his jaw working, teeth grinding as he tries to put whatever he is going to say together in his head before he speaks aloud.
“It isn’t what you think, Ava,” he presses, but I am done with secrets. Done with the lies. Whatever game Matthias had been playing is over.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
“Why don’t you explain it to your newPakhanthen, Vasily,” I growl. Tomas chokes and splutters on the coffee he means to drink. Instead, tears gather at the corner of his bright eyes as he struggles to breathe while hoarse laughter pours from his lips.
Vas stares at me, a sadness lining his face that I never noticed before. His hazel eyes darken slightly, hands twisting anxiouslyin front of him. His foot taps a silent staccato rhythm beneath the table, his knee bouncing just enough to see.
What is he hiding?
“I can’t,” he breathes regretfully. “But I can tell you that the whole thing with Serena was an act. It wasn’t real.”
The corner of my lip turns up in a snarl. “Sure as hell felt real to me.”
“And I wish it hadn’t.”
“If Matthias wasn’t eagerly trying to get rid of me to fuck the Jessica Rabbit look alike, then what did he need her for?”
“Information.” Vas swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the pale skin of his throat. He isn’t lying, but there is more to his story he isn’t tell me. He is loyal to Matthias, even in death.
“What kind of information?” That doesn’t mean I am not going to try and pry it from him.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Gotta say,” I breathe out harshly. “You sure are loyal to a dead man.”
Vas smirks. “We all are.”
Which means I won’t be getting any information from the other men in his circle either. I would be lying if I say all the cloak and dagger shit doesn’t bother me. It does. It makes my skin itch, and my stomach burns like acid. Even in death they are more loyal to Matthias than they will ever be to me.
Not that I expect anything different. Respect and loyalty are earned, Matthias taught me that. And even though we were married, and they know me, fight for me when my husband thinks I betrayed him—I still need to show them they can rely on me as much as I rely on them.
Silence falls over the table as the three of us sit with our own thoughts. Vasily looks as if he wants to say more, but his promise to his friend, his brother, holds him back. Out of all the scenariosI go through on how our conversation will go, this is not one I envisioned.
Pakhan.
I am now the most powerful woman in the city. The first female to ever lead a faction of the Bratva in mafia history. There is now an army at my back who are all just as bloodthirsty to see Matthias’s death avenged as I am.
Hell, probably even more.
