“Sounds fun. I’ll come with you.” He raises a brow, as if challenging me. I internally curse my brother. Why did he have to ask me to lie to my husband? I hate this.
“I actually want some alone time and fresh air. How about we do lunch afterwards?” Over lunch I’m going to come clean to him, I decide. I won’t lie to my husband, at least not for long.
His eyes narrow as he looks me over. It’s like he can sense my dishonesty, but maybe it’s just guilt corroding my perception.
“Fine,” he grunts out, then turns his back to me.
His flippancy hurts me. I walk to his side of the bed and lean down to kiss his lips. He returns the kiss, but it feels cold and distant. There’s none of our usual passion. It worries me.
There’s a pit in my stomach as I leave the house.
…
Petya meets me on a park bench, sitting down nonchalantly. He’s the perfect picture of ease. None of his earlier worry to be seen.
“What’s going on?” I ask, needing answers. A large part of me is hoping he’s here to tell me Viktor died.
“How are things going with your husband?” He’s speaking in Russian again, and as I look around, I realize neither of us have any guards with us. It’s a dangerous thing to do.
His question registers and confuses me. Why does he care about my marriage?
“We’re doing well. Why do you ask?” My response is said in Russian as I realize we’re trying to be inconspicuous and not understood.
“How well?” he pries.
“What do you mean? What do you want to know?” I start to feel defensive of my husband. Why is my brother asking about him? What is he planning?
“Does he trust you?” Petya continues to dig, asking odd, invasive questions.
“Of course. He’s my husband.” Petya nods and looks content with the answer, but I’m skeptical of his reaction. “I won’t betray him. Not even for you. Petya. So, don’t ask it of me.”
This is where I draw the line. I’m loyal to my brother, but not as much as to my husband. I won’t let him ruin my marriage. No matter what.
“None of that. I need your help. And Montclair’s.” Petya leans back against his seat and looks around as if he’s birdwatching. It’s ridiculous to see him acting so calm while in such a serious conversation.
“Help with what?” There’s bite in my tone, but only because I’m defensive. What does he want from us?
“Taking over the Bratva.” He finally looks at me, and despite his sunglasses, I can see the urgency in his eyes. He needs us.
“I don’t understand.” Petya has always been next in line, but only after Viktor steps down. Why is he no longer waiting for that to happen?
“Viktor is no longer fit to be Pakhan. He’s gone too far. It will be difficult. His men are just as corrupt and are willing to die for their greed. But it must be done.” A torn look crosses my brother’s face. He doesn’t want to betray his father, but whatever Viktor did, it’s unforgivable.
“What’d he do?” It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Petya have ill feelings towards Viktor. It agitates me. What could Viktor have done that’s so bad that his perfect son has turned against him?
“It’s bad, Katya. It’s better you don’t know.” I scoff at his treatment of me. Because I’m a woman, he thinks he has to hide the worst of the trade from me.
“Tell me or I won’t involve Dominic.” It’s leverage I don’t have, but I’ll use anyways.
“????’s not the man you think he is.” Petya grips my hand, his eyes full of regret. “He’s been selling girls from the motherland here. His men have been working out of the ports. There are hundreds of women he’s brought over. All to be sold for sex. It’s unimaginable. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’strue. I only just found out. He hid it well, but there were numbers that weren’t adding up. Katya, I just can’t believe it.”
I always knew he had no regard for women. Look at how he treated his wife and daughter. But this… this is unconceivable. Hundreds of women, forced into sexual slavery because of his greed. Fury I’ve never felt before consumes me. How fucking dare he?
“You understand why I must do what needs to be done? Why I must kill him?” My brother sounds destroyed. He never saw the worst of Viktor. He’s only known the respectable Pakhan. I try to put myself in his shoes, but I can’t. I can’t unsee Viktor as the monster I know him to be.
“You’re next in line. With him gone, you become Pakhan.” I state numbly.
“Yes. I need your husband’s help.” I can tell he doesn’t want to ask it. They’re sworn enemies. But if it means ridding the world of Viktor, especially after yesterday, I’m pretty sure my husband will support it.
