Page 17 of Savage Truce

For the next five minutes, Artem tells me everything he knows about grasshoppers while I drink the last of my coffee.

My phone rings, and it cuts Artem off mid-sentence, making him hunch his shoulders as he starts drawing squiggly patterns in the sand with his pointer finger.

I ruffle his hair as I get up and take the call. “Volkov.”

“They’re all here,” Andrei informs me.

My gaze touches on Artem before glancing back at the mansion. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

Tucking the phone away, I tell my cousin, “Go grab your coat. It’s time for the trip I promised you.”

“I’m going in a plane today?” he asks, excitement exploding over his face.

When I nod, he runs into the house, and I hear him shout, “Mam, we’re going on the trip now!”

Today is the day I’ve been working toward since I became the underboss. It’s taken me years to gather enough men who would be willing to go up against Yegor’s loyal soldiers, and because the old man fucked up and pissed off the Cosa Nostra, I have them and their allies backing me.

All hell will break loose in the Bratva, and I want my family up in the air while the worst of it goes down, not stuck on the ground where they can be targeted.

Heading through the house, I open the front door and call out, “It’s time, Vadim. Get the men ready.”

While Andrei and Sergei are staying with me, Vadim, who’s in charge of security here at the estate, and my entire team of guards will accompany my family to keep them safe.

My men begin moving, opening the doors to the armored SUVs and checking their weapons.

“Are you sure about this, son?” my father asks from behind me, his tone tense with worry.

Honestly, Artem takes more after my dad than his own father, and I’m more like my late uncle. Dad has never been a part of the Bratva and finds endless joy in gardening.

“We have no choice,” I answer as I turn around to look at him. “You’ll be safe up in the air while the worst goes down. Only Vadim knows the destination.” I place my hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Enjoy the vacation.”

Worry has darkened my father’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth tremble slightly. “How can I enjoy a vacation knowing the danger you will face?”

We stare at each other for a long moment until it’s broken by my mother and aunt hurrying down the grand staircase.

“Artem,” Aunt Marina calls, panic lacing her tone.

“I’m here, Mam,” my cousin suddenly replies from the open front door behind me.

Aunt Marina calms when she sees him, and stepping closer to me, she lifts her hand and pats my cheek softly. “Your uncle would be very proud of you.” Her gaze stays locked on mine for a moment longer, then she says, “If anyone can take down Fedorov, it’s you.”

Unlike my mother, Aunt Marina was raised in the Bratva, so she’s tougher and understands how most of the politics work.

My aunt moves past me and gestures for Artem to walk with her so I can have a moment alone with my parents.

Mom takes a deep breath and glances around the foyer before she meets my gaze, then her chin quivers and her eyes begin to shine with unshed tears.

When I discovered Yegor was behind the disappearance of one of the Cosa Nostra’s capos, I formed an alliance with them. Mom begged me not to go through with the war.

I’m well aware many will die today, but there’s no turning back. This isn’t for me. It’s for the future of the Bratva and the families who depend on the organization.

New leadership is long overdue. We have to move away from sex slavery and human trafficking. It sickens me that more than half our income still comes from those operations when there are billions to be made manufacturing weapons.

The Cosa Nostra aren’t backing me just because they want revenge against Yegor. The Bulgarians, Romanians, Turks, and Yakuza have also thrown their support behind this war because they see the same future I do. Once Yegor is gone, they’ll have a reliable supplier capable of manufacturing the volume of weapons they need instead of relying on scattered shipments from smugglers.

It’s a future worth going to war for.

Reaching for Mom, I pull her into a hug and say, “Try not to worry. Today will be successful.”