I barely escaped some with my life, a handful who prefer Andrei in charge. But most are disgusted by my brother's actions, the way he has betrayed the ideal. Moreover, where my brother would earn loyalty with fear and brutality, I have earned it through favors, support, and fostering networks, only using force when I must. Andrei always called my more pragmatic approach weak, warned me that others would see me as someone to take advantage of. But instead, I find I now have an army with which to wage war.
Iliya is driving. He still looks pale and hunched, and he’s lost weight and muscle over the past few weeks as he’s tried to balance healing with raising an army to win the Bratva back and trying to hunt down Leah, Eliza, and Suzie in order to save them. Unfortunately, balance is not a thing in our world, and my enforcer hasn’t been given time to heal.
I would never say it out loud, but I’m worried for him.
Iliya signals and pulls the car up to a curb in front of an old brick building, a neon sign in one of the grimy windows flashes an advertisement for a cheap brand of beer. A man is slumped to one side of the doorway, and he mutters, or rather slurs something indecipherable, as we pass by. I ignore him and the way Iliya grimaces in pain when he pulls the door open for me, the movement stressing at muscles still trying to knit back together.
The bar is a grimy, smoke-filled hole in a forgotten corner of Brooklyn. It’s a relic, a place where the old guard of the New York Bratvas still gather, where loyalty was and still is forged in cheap vodka, oaths, and tattoos in the shape of stars.
The air is thick with stale cigar and cigarette smoke—no one cares that smoking indoors is against the law—the clatter of glasses, and the low rumble of Russian spoken in hushed tones. The walls are stained, the booths worn, the glass smudged with years of grime and nicotine, and the faces etched with years of living in our dark world.
I step inside and Iliya closes the door behind me, an imposing, black, glowering figure, and the room falls into a hushed silence. For the first time in decades, the leaders and seconds of many of New York and New Jersey’s Bratva have gathered in one place, those usually at odds or in an uneasy peace uniting against a common enemy.
Andrei and the traitors, pretenders all, who stand at the head ofmyBratva. I walk to the center of the room, my gaze sweeping over every face.
“Brothers.” My voice cuts through the silence, filling the room. “It has been too long since I stood among you here, a place of honor and brotherhood.”
A few nods, a cough, and deep muttering as gazes, and some scowls, follow me.
“I’ve asked you here tonight because there are those in our midst who forget the blood that builds our empires, who forget that loyalty, brotherhood, and blood bind us as thevory v zakone, who forget the sacredness of family.”
I gesture subtly to Iliya, a silent but visible testament to the costs of the betrayal. His injury and visible pain speak more eloquently than any words.
“There’s a snake inmyhouse,” I declare. “A viper, born of my own blood, has betrayed me. He has taken what is mine and threatened my future. He has threatenedourfuture. Remember brothers, when one falls, so do we all. Remove the keystone and the others tumble down. Remember all that the Antonov Bratva has done for you, for the men who came before you. Think of what the future may hold—or not. They seek to undermine our traditions, to breed disloyalty instead of allegiance and devotion to our ideals and our brotherhood. If we let this go unanswered, we will find that our way of life,ourworld, will rot from within.”
I let the threat hang in the air, allowing minds to race, to jump to the worst outcome, to understand the gravity of the situation. This isn’t just a personal vendetta; it’s an attack on their way of life, the very fabric that makes up thevory v zakone.
“We all know loyalty is not a suggestion. It is a covenant. It is the blood in our veins, the foundation of our power. And betrayal is a disease that must be cut out—ruthlessly.”
Every man here knows I’m speaking of my brother, but each one understands what must be done, no matter our blood ties.
I step forward, my hand resting on a chair’s backrest, the cracked Naugahyde digging into my palm. “I am here tonight to remind you of that covenant, of the reason we have the tattoos across our skin, the stars embedded permanently on each of our shoulders. I’m here to remind you of our strength and that when one of us is threatened like this, we are all threatened. When my family is attacked,yourfamily is attacked. Because in this, we are one.”
Rumbles of agreement echo through the room. Faces that were once wary, unfriendly, even hostile, glint with a familiar fire.
“I’m asking for your strength.” I look at each face again. “I ask for your commitment. Join me, stand with me, and together we will wipe out this disease before it can spread. Together we will remind those snakes in our midst who they’re dealing with. We will remind them what happens when you betray thevory v zakone.”
Cheers and the pounding of drinks and fists on tables fill the room, marking the coming together of a disparate group of men for a common purpose.
Andrei will see what happens when he tries to commandeermyBratva, to kidnapmywoman, to try to takemyheir from me. He will learn the violence a betrayal of this magnitude will bring down on his head.
The war has begun.
It’s not until we get to the car that Iliya hands me his phone so I can read the message on the screen from one of my truly loyal men:Marius with Andrei. Can’t get close enough to figure outwhere they are; they’re still alive. Andrei wants to be the one to kill them.
My blood runs cold with shards of ice, followed by a volcano of red-hot anger, a kind of fury that transcends anything I’ve felt before.
It’s not news, not exactly, but seeing the message brings it all into horrible, sharp focus. My brother. My own flesh and blood. The one who always pretended to be my staunchest supporter. He wants to kill my woman, her child, andmyunborn heir. It’s a move of unimaginable cruelty, a violation of every sacred bond and oath we took.
The rage consumes me, burning away the man I’ve tried to be with Leah and Eliza, until all that’s left is the cold, calculating, monstrous part of me that has allowed me to survive, to expand the Bratva my father left to me and turn it into an empire, to become one of the richest and most feared men in the city.
The man who feels, the man who loves Leah, must be locked away, so the killer, thepakhan,can begin his path of destruction.
“We need to get close to Andrei.” My voice is a flat, chilling command. “We follow him to Leah and the others, and then we take our revenge.”
Iliya nods, his face set. He understands.
The thought twists my gut into a cold, hard knot, but there is no other path. He’s crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.
