I can’t imagine it would be easy for her, finding out that she’s married to the brother of her abusive first husband.
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re our brother,” Gio says finally, shattering the silence.
Rising from his chair, he crosses the room to gruffly grasp the back of my neck and pull me in for a hug.
I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear that until he said it, but relief floods me to know that, even if my world’s been turned upside down, I still have a brother I can count on.
“The same goes for us as well,” Sandro says, speaking for both the twins.
“I’m curious,” Raf says, taking the floor next. “If you’re the long lost Novikov heir, what exactly do you intend to do about it?”
“Well, assuming you don’t want to kill me, that is…” I tease, flashing him a wolfish grin.
Raf snorts. “Miko, I live in a perpetual state of wanting to kill you. That’s what brotherly affection is.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Well, since you asked, I’ve decided it’s time to reclaim my birthright. If I can prove that I am, in fact, the missing heir and the Novikov men are willing to rally around me, that would change the game entirely. I would essentially bebringing the Bratva into the fold—it would give us a legitimate foothold once more.”
“Hell yeah,” Sandro says, his face splitting into a wide grin.
“And you still want to fight for the Chiaroscuros?” Gio asks. “Even knowing what our father did?”
His question holds no judgment, and I know my brother means it genuinely—he wouldn’t hold it against me if I chose to walk away now that I know the truth.
“I’m not fighting for Don Augusta anymore,” I say vehemently. “I’m fighting by your side, because you’re my brothers—no matter whose blood runs through my veins.”
The moment feels poignant as Raf and Sandro stand, coming to join me and Gio in what might be the first ever group hug in our family’s existence.
Despite all the devastation and confusion it caused to learn the truth, for the first time in my life, I finally feel like I’m exactly where I belong.
“Alright, get off me, you bunch of saps,” I growl as I feel the distinct absence of one person’s touch that I desperately crave right now.
My brothers chuckle, releasing me to head back to their seats as I look toward Anika’s chair.
But it’s already empty.
She’s gone.
She must have snuck out at some point, and my stomach knots to think of what she must be working through in her mind right now.
I want nothing more than to go to her, but my brothers are already moving on, asking questions about how I intend to break the news to Pyotr’s old captains—and what makes me think I can convince them to unite behind me when they scoffed at the idea before.
“Svetlana has already agreed to speak on my behalf—to verify my identity. And I intend to take a paternity test to remove any doubt from the table.”
“You’re already ten steps down the road on this plan, aren’t you?” Raf observes.
“Coming from you, I take that as a compliment,” I say.
“It is one,” he confirms. “We could call together all the main Russian patriarchs from the families who were loyal to Pyotr. Invite them to the house under the guise of peace negotiations.”
I nod. “I like that idea. Better to gather the decision makers without a room full of their hotheaded fighters to shoot first and ask questions later—or start another brawl before I even have a chance to speak.”
“I’ll put together an invitation they can’t refuse,” Raf says.
I nod. “Sandro, you mind finding me a paternity test? One that gets fast results would be best.”
“I’m on it.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Gio asks as I head toward the door.
