Before I can respond, Danil leans forward. The movement is casual, but every man in the room goes still.
"The Pakhan has spoken," he says, his voice quiet but carrying absolute authority. "Unless you'd like to explain to him why you think you know better?"
The man who questioned me goes pale. The meeting continues without further interruption.
Later, in the car, I turn to Danil. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did." He keeps his eyes on the road. "You're the boss, but sometimes, people need reminding. That's my job."
"Your job isSovietnik, not attack dog."
He grins. "I can be both."
I blink, and I'm back in the cabin. Danil is still at the window, and Maya is curled against my side, her body finally starting to relax. The scent of her shampoo drifts up, and I inhale the familiar and comforting scent.
"I remember something," I say quietly. "A meeting. You backed me up when someone questioned my authority."
Danil turns, and there's warmth in his dark eyes. "I've done that more times than I can count. You're brilliant, but you're also young for a Pakhan. Some of the old guard needed convincing."
"How did I become Pakhan?" The question has been nagging at me since he arrived. Maya stiffens at my side.
He moves back toward the fire, settling into the armchair. "You became Pakhan because you were smarter and more ruthless than anyone else. You saw opportunities others missed. Madealliances that seemed impossible. And when necessary…" He pauses. "You eliminated obstacles."
Maya stiffens even more beside me as she sucks in a sharp breath. I tighten my arm around her shoulders.
"Eliminated." I let the word hang in the air. "That's a polite way of saying I killed people."
"When necessary," Danil repeats. "You weren't a monster, Alek. You had rules. Lines you wouldn't cross."
"What kind of lines?"
"No kids. No civilians who weren't involved in the business. No unnecessary violence." He leans back, the firelight casting shadows across his face. "You were ruthless, but you weren't cruel. There's a difference."
Another memory surfaces, sharper this time.
A man kneeling in a warehouse. Concrete floor, the smell of oil and rust. His hands are bound behind his back, his face bruised. Danil stands beside me, gun in hand, waiting for my decision.
"He stole from us," Danil says. His voice is flat.
I study the man, noting the fear in his eyes. "Does he have family?"
"Wife. Two kids."
I'm quiet for a long moment. "Break his hands. Send him home as a warning. But make sure his family is taken care of. The wife gets a job in one of our legitimate businesses. The kids' school is paid for."
Danil nods. "Mercy and message. Smart."
"Not mercy." I turn away. "Investment. His family will remember who provided for them when he couldn't. Loyalty bought is sometimes stronger than loyalty earned."
The memory fades, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I wasn't being kind. I was being strategic.
"You're remembering," Danil observes. "I can see it on your face."
"Fragments. Nothing complete." I look at Maya, at the way her eyes watch me with concern and something that might be fear.
"I'm tired," Maya says quietly. "I think I'll go to bed early."
"I'll come with you." I start to stand, but she puts a hand on my chest, stopping me. Her palm is warm through my shirt.
