Chapter 239
Orion
I drove through Manhattan with my heart pounding, the weight of everything I'd learned at the Kozlov compound pressing down on me like a physical force. Despite the chaos in my mind, Aveline's estate appeared deceptively peaceful as I pulled through the gates—staff members went about their duties with practiced efficiency, gardeners tended to the spring flowers, and everything seemed to radiate the kind of tranquil domesticity that felt almost surreal given our circumstances.
The illusion of normalcy continued as I entered the house. Rebecca greeted me with her usual warm smile, James nodded respectfully from his position near the front hall, and I could hear gentle laughter drifting from the sunroom where Aveline, Vivian, and Grandmother were apparently enjoying an afternoon conversation.
But I could see through the facade immediately. Both women's postures were too rigid, their smiles too bright, their voices carrying an undercurrent of tension that spoke to sleepless nights and constant vigilance.
The moment Aveline and Vivian spotted me, they rose from their seats with obvious relief.
"Grandmother," Aveline said gently, "you mentioned feeling tired earlier. Why don't you go rest for a while? We were going to show Orion the new spring plantings in the garden."
Eleanor looked between us with the sharp perception of someone who'd survived eight decades by reading people accurately. But she simply nodded and allowed Rebecca to escort her upstairs, leaving the three of us alone.
We made our way through the French doors into the estate's meticulously maintained gardens. The moment we were out of earshot of any staff, the carefully constructed harmony between the two women evaporated like morning mist.
Aveline positioned herself pointedly beside me, while Vivian walked slightly apart, creating an awkward triangle as we moved along the gravel paths between the rose beds.
The tension was so thick I could practically taste it.
"Aveline," I said finally, unable to stand the hostile silence any longer. "I know you're still angry about what happened last night, but we can't afford emotional conflicts right now. Our situation has become much more dangerous than any of us realized."
Aveline's laugh was sharp and bitter. "You've been defending her repeatedly, Orion. And look where that's gotten us—spiraling further and further out of control!" Her voice rose slightly before she caught herself and continued in a fierce whisper. "This isn't just about us anymore. I'm terrified for Grandmother. What if they target her? What if an innocent old woman gets hurt because of decisions we made?"
Before I could respond, Vivian stepped forward with that familiar defiant expression I'd come to recognize as dangerous.
"What happened last night was necessary for gathering intelligence," she said coldly. "Besides, these people kill without reason or pattern anyway. If you want to keep blaming me, fine—I'll take full responsibility. I'll go to them myself and tell them this whole thing was my idea, that neither of you had anything to do with it."
"Now you want to take responsibility?" Aveline snapped. "Yesterday you forced me to watch Mrs. Patterson's son die because of our involvement! Today Mrs. Patterson has been locked in her room crying, and I had to lie to Grandmother about why she's 'sick' to prevent her from worrying!"
Vivian's face flushed, and I could see her struggling not to lash out in return.
"Enough!" I said sharply, stepping between them. "We don't have the luxury of fighting among ourselves anymore. The situation has deteriorated beyond anything we imagined."
Both women turned to stare at me, and I could see the questions in their eyes.
"What do you mean?" Aveline asked quietly. "How powerful can this organization be? Surely Viktor's family can handle them?"
I took a deep breath and began explaining everything I'd learned at the Kozlov compound—Nikolai's reputation as the Pakhan, the historical debt the Kozlovs owed him, the family connection through my uncle, and most devastating of all, their complete withdrawal of protection.
As I spoke, I watched the color drain from both women's faces. The petty arguments and personal grievances that had seemed so important moments before suddenly felt trivial in the face of existential threat.
When I finished, silence stretched between us like a physical thing.
Finally, I placed a gentle hand on Aveline's shoulder. "I think you should leave the country. Take Grandmother somewhere safe until this blows over."
Aveline shook her head immediately. "I won't abandon her, and I won't run away from everything I've built here. This is my home, my life, my business—I can't just throw it all away."
I wanted to argue, but I understood her position. In her place, I might make the same choice.
"So the entire New York criminal underworld is afraid of this man?" Vivian asked, her voice losing its earlier heat and becoming eerily calm.
"It appears so," I said grimly. "We're completely on our own."
"And the Kozlovs," she continued, her tone analytical, "the great and powerful Bratva, are withdrawing all protection because of a name?"
I just nodded, the silence confirming the bitter truth.
Vivian let out a short laugh—a sound utterly devoid of humor. It was the sound of a deeply cynical worldview being proven right. "So much for all that bullshit about 'honor' and 'loyalty.' It all means jack shit the second their own asses are on the line."
I watched her as she spoke, and I saw something more than just bitter satisfaction on her face. There was a strange glint in her eyes, a focused intensity that belied the chaos of our situation.
"This isn't the time for your cynical commentary," Aveline shot back, her voice tight with stress.
"On the contrary," Vivian replied, turning away from us. Her back created a barrier as she stared into the lush foliage, her mind clearly working. "This is the only time for it. It strips away the comforting lies and shows you the world as it is. An entire ecosystem terrified of one apex predator."
She began to walk slowly along the edge of a flower bed, not looking at us. "But that's not how nature works, is it? There's always something that doesn't follow the rules. Something too rabid, too unpredictable to care about the established order."
Her eyes landed on a tall stalk of foxglove, and she paused. She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against one of the beautiful purple bells.
"Some things are dangerous because of their strength," she mused, her voice soft but carrying in the quiet garden. "And some are dangerous simply because they are poison."
She turned back to us, a flicker of something new—a calculated, dangerous hope—in her eyes.
"The man who kidnapped me," she said, her voice regaining its focus. "The one who helped me get rid of Dwayne."
"Dmitri Petrov," I said, the name feeling heavy on my tongue. "Leader of the Iron Wolves."
A slow, predatory smile touched Vivian's lips. "Exactly. Nikolai is the lion everyone fears. But what if the answer isn't a bigger lion? What if the answer is a snake?" She plucked one of the foxglove blooms, holding it by its stem. "And I know this particular snake. Intimately. He's unpredictable. He's hungry. And I'm willing to bet he's the only man in this city who is too insane to be afraid of a ghost story."
She held the poisonous flower out slightly, as if offering the idea itself. "When the king of the jungle is hunting you, you don't find a stronger king. You make an alliance with the poison."