“Weapons are not allowed inside the room. Roshka will be leashed. And you may be asked to speak as a witness for tonight. Speak in English. Someone will be able to translate, and repeat Victor's name a few times if you can.”
We walk up the stairs, and I unlock the door to the rest of the house with a code, not trusting anyone with a key. Roshka bursts out first, and I stall our exit, letting my dog regain some of his worth after I refused his help in the killing room. Roskha’s temperament and intelligence make me believe we’ve been together in our past lives. He is part of my soul.
Santiago is waiting on the step under mine, the heat of his body warm against my back. It’s odd. I feel no unease he’s so close, but instead of it throwing me, I embrace the notion.
“You know, for an asshole, you’re okay,” he says.
I don’t need to check his expression; I can sense his sardonic humor as easily as I can smell his reluctant happiness in his scent.
“I will reserve my right to judge you until after I see how you fuck my wife. But that is after I fuck her. Not before. I’m being as obvious and straightforward as I can, Santiago, because I want this to work, but you will never go before me.”
He shoves at me, making me fall up the last stair into the house. His angry muttering under his breath,Que te jordan,is a phrase I will have to look up. It is a later problem. Now, I have to start shutting down my growing hope, to slide back into theperson I’ve been living to get this done. I can do both. I have no issue keeping up the facade.
By the time we’re inside the main part of the house, Santiago is my guard, and I am the new Petrov Bratva. And if I am honest, it’s been a long time since I have felt as safe with someone behind me as I do with him at my back and my dog by my side. My reason for doing all this hums her gentle support through our bond, along with her impatience for us to return to her.
I shake hands and accept the condolences of the staff waiting for me. They stand in the halls and make sure they shake my hand. Some of the staff are missing, but the ones that remain are the ones who will stay here while I am gone. Each of them is my people, and, together, we have endured. They were aware of what happened to Sergey, but we haven’t had the chance to do this.
Santiago stays in the background as I repeat the process with all the councilors waiting in the very same room where I had to consummate my brother's wedding.
Knowing we survived that terrible moment, twisting it into something we will own forever, is what allows me to swallow my vengeance and take a knee in front of the Pakhan, looking like a brother in mourning.
“Moy brat mertv. Ya zanimayu yego mesto v Bratve, chtoby pochtit' yego pamyat'. Ya budu rabotat' kak odin iz vashikh samykh predannykh lyudey, Pakhan. Rossiya vozroditsya. Skazhite mne, chto delat'.”
My brother is dead. I take his position as Bratva to honor his memory. I will work as one of your most loyal men, Pakhan. Russia will rise again. Tell me what to do.
Chapter Forty-Three
QUINN
Why is it the longest time you will ever wait is the last few minutes? It’s been hours since Santiago texted and let me know their arrival time. The first part of that whizzed past, but I was racing around, cleaning up the house and then myself. For the last ten minutes, though, I’ve been beside myself, pacing and second-guessing everything.
Kade snatches me off my feet, mid-stride, and all but throws me over his shoulder.
“Watch your leg!” I shriek.
He slaps my ass. “Nalla!”
The two of them have recovered better than I’d hoped. They’re nowhere near back to pre-injury, but as well as being shot in the same side, they also share stubborn determination. I gave up trying to stop them from moving around, but I bitch loud enough that everyone knows I’m not happy when I think they’ve done enough.
Kade rests my butt against the edge of the doorframe after he lets Nalla check that the yard is safe for us. It is, but her being let out to do her routine is working as well for her recovery as her sleeping in front of the open fire.
“Grab your jacket,” he says, squatting down so I can reach the snow jackets hanging on hooks.
I hear a small groan from him and fight to free myself of his arms.
“I’m fine. Stop worrying,” he growls, but I push out of his hold.
Grabbing his hand as soon as my feet hit the ground, I lead us to the small bench on the edge of the yard.
Kade makes a play for the jacket, then it’s a game of getting it on me and zipped up as fast as he can. As soon as he’s bundled up, he grabs me off my feet again and sits down, pulling me onto his lap. “Goddamn, it’s cold here. Lucky, I have you.”
I screech when he buries his ice cold hands under my clothes and leaves them on my stomach.
“Way to keep our hideout a secret, Quinny,” he scolds, blowing his scent all over my face.
I twist in his arms to say something when Nalla trots past us and down the side of the house. A moment later, headlights illuminate the driveway.
My heart skips a beat, and Kade’s arms tighten around my body. “No chance. I have you all to myself for a few more seconds. Who knows when the next time we’re alone will be.”
