18
VIKTOR
I’ve had the night to think about everything that Tati said and I’ve had more than a week to consider what Marla might’ve been hiding. Tati said that she was talking about going to the authorities. Clearly, she was preparing to do just that when she was killed. Someone else knows about what she was doing other than Tati and me. Somebody dangerous.
That means that she might’ve known exactly who was responsible. And given what I know, it seems more clear to me than ever before that Nikolai is somehow involved. I don’t want to believe that. Whatever he is, whatever he’s done, he loved his son. He wanted him to be his successor. I can’t believe he would want him dead for any reason.
I’m driving back to his house. Nikolai has summoned me again. We haven’t really spoken much since Marla was killed, and now I wonder if now that it’s all said and done, is this the time that he’ll address my botching the hit? I haven’t gotten something like this wrong since I was first initiated, so I can’t imagine what the conversation will be like. Perhaps he will give me some clues as to who else would have a stake in Marla’s death.
I park my car and my phone buzzes. I check it to see he’s texted.
Meet me in the garden.
I walk around the building’s perimeter and glance up at Tati’s window on the second floor. The rose trellis is still there. A wonder since it’s the way I caught her sneaking away that first time. The drapes have been pulled. It’s well into the afternoon, so I know she’s awake up there. I look away and push her out of my mind. I need to keep focused and pay attention to whatever is to come from this conversation.
The garden has high hedges flanking a lane of pink, white, and red roses and sits directly off the concrete path leading away from the back patio. I see him standing among the roses, touching the petals of the red ones delicately despite the stone expression on his face. He looks as though if I leave him alone long enough, I might witness him crushing the flower under his grip.
He hears my footsteps and looks up at me as I approach. His face softens slightly with familiarity. “Right on time,” he says. “You’ve always been among the most reliable of my men.”
I only nod. I can’t tell how he means that. “You wanted me for something, sir?”
“I did,” he says and turns to me fully. “Let me first thank you for taking care of Ms. Chekov for me. The job was cleanly done despite its difficulty. I hope you can forgive the subterfuge on my part. I had to be sure you wouldn’t protest her removal from our outer circle.”
He doesn’t know that I didn’t pull the trigger. That’s interesting. I’d better play along. “I am Bratva, sir. My loyalty is to you and the brotherhood.”
He’s looking me over, eyes trying to read my expression for falsehoods. After a few seconds, he nods and says, “I should confess, Viktor, I did not ask you to take care of Ms. Chekov with pure intentions. She was becoming a problem, you see. I’ve been told that she was investigating certain ventures that we’ve been involved in, and as you know, we have a code of silence. Though she’s not an official member of this Bratva, she has ties close enough to us thanks to her relationship with my son. Either way, she needed to be dealt with.”
I don’t say anything to that. He’s not wrong, really. Marla was not Bratva, but I guess that doesn’t make much difference in the end. Nikolai clears his throat and continues.
“The truth of the matter is that I asked you to be the one because I started to question your allegiance to me. It was beginning to appear that certain rumors I’d been hearing might have a ring of truth to them.” He pauses, still reading my face silently. “There have been… whispers about you lately suggesting a fracture in your commitment to the brotherhood.”
Tiny alarms pop up in my mind like pinpricks. “Whispers? What about, exactly? I haven’t done anything outside of what you’ve specifically asked me to do.”
“Yes, so it certainly seems. I find it ironic that it is a situation that I have unwittingly caused.” He starts to walk down the stone path, so I follow him. “Your insolence the night that you brought Tatiana home after she snuck out… It was more than just out of line. It was confirmation that your affection for her might be making you lose perspective. I’m sure you understand that punishment was necessary for that misstep.”
He slows as he approaches a stone bench and sits down. I remain standing.
“I had to know where your priorities still lie,” he says. “I also happen to have an unruly child to look after.” He shakes his head sorrowfully. “That girl and her wild ways will be the death of me.” He glances up at me, and I see apology in his eyes. “Asking you to babysit her was a way for me to keep an eye on her. Both of you, really. And when you decided to defend her…” He shakes his head slowly. “It appeared that the suggestions about your relationship were true. That you have become… entranced by her.”
The pinpricks turn to a small rush of panic. I keep it contained. “Entranced, sir?”
“Yes.” His aged face softens into a smile as he looks up at me. “Viktor, I realize that you are married to your job, but you are still a man, aren’t you? Tatiana is a strikingly beautiful woman.”
“I’ve known her since she was a child, Nikolai. I don’t see her as anything other than the teenager who used to follow her brother around.”
“But you are not blind,” he says with a laugh. “There is no shame in being attracted to her. I hardly doubt that any man who is interested in women could blame themselves.”
I shift my feet uncomfortably and say, “Of course I’ve noticed, sir. I also have restraint and common sense. Unlike some of my brothers who are too young to understand that, I know better than to bed my boss’s daughter.”
“Is that so?” He purses his lips skeptically. “You have no affection for her other than the quasi-familial one you say you’ve developed over time?”
I shake my head. “Watching over her has been a job, sir. Nothing more.”
“I see.” He looks away, his eyes focusing on something in the distance. Perhaps his flowers, or the horizon. His smile slips away.
“So, then,” he says after a few seconds of silence, “if someone were to suggest to you that she has turned on her own father, you wouldn’t have a problem taking care of that problem the same way I asked you to take care of Marla Chekov?”
I have to pause. This feels like a trick question. “It depends on who made that suggestion, sir. She isn’t the same as Chekov in that she is your child. There is more to consider.”
