Page 132 of Inked in Devotion

“How is that fair?” I snapped. “Maybe there’s another loophole.”

Lucy shrugged. “Margo is combing through another archive, but she indicated the Vozhokari lodged a recent incident involving one of their own.”

“What’s she talking about?” I demanded.

“We’ve finally connected Marena to a target of the bratva.” Ilya looked up from his screen and turned his laptop to face me and Lucy. “She’s seen here with Xiarra Wilson. Her husband is Jordan Wilson, whom Kolya recently executed to stop a child trafficking ring. But it was his wife who was the mastermind. Wilson Ltd is a logistics and port operator for several companies. But also, Xiarra used to be an assassin for the Vozhokari, whom they planted into Wilson Ltd by marrying its owner.”

“Do you mean the Vozhokari are human traffickers now?”

“No, but they’re using Xiarra’s connections as a way to transport babies scouted by Marena to be trained as assassins for their dying organization.”

Ilya’s stare sent shivers down my spine, but his words were like a punch in the gut. “Xiarra Wilson and Marena Rodriguez are cousins,” he added.

“What?”

“The motorcyclist assassin Kolya killed the night Esther King sent them after you and your mother was Xiarra’s sister. They were all part of the Areenova clan, one of the leading vessels for the Vozhokari. The lack of Petrov bloodline was a concern for them. After the failed job, the Vozhokari exiled the entire bloodline. From Dimitri’s source inside the Vozhokari, Sebastian was their way back into the organization by presenting them with a blue-eyed Petrov baby.”

The thought made me ill.

“That doesn’t make sense, because of what Marena had done, I hurt my baby and…and…” I couldn’t say it. “She disappeared before she even knew I fell into psychosis; how could she have known?”

“There was a nurse who didn’t report for work at The Astorian,” Ilya said. “Your brother submitted their employee roster last week.”

“Theo didn’t tell me.”

“It was a blur to connect the dots until recently,” Ilya said. “We’ve also identified some of Kolya’s fan mail as coming from a P.O. box owned by a Wilson Ltd shell company.”

I remembered those letters. The ones that stated I was unworthy to bear Kolya’s son.

But something bothered me more. “This means they had infiltrated King Industries?”

“We—” Ilya started.

“We have a choice.” Kolya leveled his stare at me. “It’s fifteen miles to the Upper East Side.”

“Make a break for it,” I said slowly as renewed shivers wracked my body. “Did you forget what just happened?”

“We’re prepared for them now.”

“That explosion?”

“Grenade launcher. And that’s why helicopters are a no-go either.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“We go to war.” It was Kirill who answered. “I’ve traced over bloodlines in the dusty books Aralina found for me in the attic. Marriage Ink has forged powerful alliances everywhere. In fact, Winthrop covenants started in the fourteenth century when their scholars noted the weaknesses coming from inbreeding of families of wealth and power. But the Vozhokari allied itself to the institutions that sprang from the ruling bloodlines we are trying to dismantle.”

“You’re talking about a secret war.”

“It’s been going on for centuries. The public go about their lives not knowing about the power struggles that are happening behind the scenes. Even us, the bratva, forget about them until something like this happens,” Ivan said.

Kolya rose from his seat beside Ilya and approached me warily. What did he see on my face? Anxiety? No, I was angry. Furious. And I finally realized why.

“I’m sorry, Chloshka.” Kolya gripped my arms. “If there were any other way…”

“I’m angry.”

His jaw hardened, but the slight bob of his throat hinted at restrained, impassioned emotions.