”I don’t think so.” I tried to remain calm, firm.
”But why?” Her voice turned fierce and angry. “You’re the one who asked what’s bothering me, and when I tell you, it’s like you don’t even care.”
”It’s not like I can just send you to them and they’d let you come back!” I didn’t mean to, but I raised my voice. “You know your brothers, and I aren’t exactly friends.”
”Please, Arko,” she sighed, clutching the sides of the table. “I’m not asking to go alone. You can be there, your security can be there. I just need to see them.”
I looked up at her, at that pain on her face, and wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted. Fuck. I was getting soft.
“It’s too dangerous,” I said, against my instincts to please her. “The last time we were in the same room, your brothers reached for their guns.”
“That’s because they thought I was in danger!” she protested. “Can you blame them? But if we set the terms right, show them that I’m safe and free to meet them, they might even learn to forgive you.”
“I don’t need their forgiveness,” I snarled.
“Are you even hearing what I’m saying?” she asked after a moment’s silence, her disappointment heavy in her voice.
I closed my eyes, thinking of what she’s asking and why I shouldn’t let her have it. But on the other hand, didn’t I want to see her happy? Meeting Caspian and the others wasn’t going to be a happy reunion, but we could set the terms up straight, and with Beatrice there, I knew both sides would comply.
“Fine,” I said finally. “But we do this my way, and on neutral ground, like you said.”
Her face lit up with a smile that hit me straight in the chest. “Thank you,” she said, smiling more than I’ve seen in two days.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I muttered. “It’s going to be a shit show.”
She just smiled.
***
We met two days later in the private den of The Tumbler, a bar frequented by mobsters in our circle. It was as neutral a territory as one could find, yet it provided us with the privacy we so desperately needed.
The hostess led Beatrice and me down the stairs of the speakeasy, past the boisterous crowd on the main floor, through the curtained entrance to the hallway out back.
“Are they here yet?” I asked.
“Yes, Mr. Pavlov,” the blonde nodded. “The Lebedevs are already waiting in the den.”
“Are they alone?” I growled, just to make sure.
“Yes, sir. And they deposited their weapons at the entrance.”
As did I. Our guards weren’t with us, for Caspian made it clear that around their sister, they didn’t want any violence, and we needed to trust one another.
I’d agreed without argument. But now, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. What if they snuck in a dagger? A knife? My fists would have to do, if things turned ugly.
Beside me, Beatrice picked up speed, nearly bouncing on her toes. I watched that glazed, giddy look on her face, and that old, familiar guilt came rushing back to me. I’d kept her from her family all this while and never thought of the effect it had on her.
For her sake, I decided to keep my mouth shut for the duration of the meeting to come, despite whatever may happen. I needed to keep a cool head so I could get her out safely.
The hostess led us to the end of the hallway, then paused outside the door, nodding to tell me we were here.
“Keep the staff away,” I told her, my hand hovering on the knob. “We need privacy.”
She barely turned around before I felt Beatrice’s hand on mine, turning the door to open. She walked in brazenly, brushing past me like nothing mattered but the people inside.
“Bea!” Caspian gushed, rushing toward her.
It felt like a stab in the heart when I watched her run toward her brothers, who rose from their places and ran toward her, encircling her like a pack of protective wolves as they each took their turn to hug her, to assess her, to see if she was unharmed.
