CHAPTER 64 — FAINA PETROV

We are currently in the cabin, as our house was consumed by fire. Noah led us to an emergency entrance, well hidden on the back lawn of the destroyed house. It was painful to see everything in ruins.

We took my father blindfolded, even though I insisted he wouldn't hurt us. They continued to tell me that my father was still considered an enemy and that he would not allow me to discover their escape route. I had to roll my eyes at that, and I bet my dad did the same, even under the blindfold covering his eyes.

— So, you're telling me that Christopher had his doubts about Vladimir? — asks my father, while we are all gathered on the sofa in the cozy living room.

— Yes. He told us that Dostoevsky could have stolen a third of the weapons loads and falsified the drugs by mixing wheat flour or cornstarch into them. — Heros, he says, standing near the door with his arms crossed.

— My father always checked the content of the drugs, they were the purest and of the highest quality. — Luther, with regret and longing — I was always by his side when counting weapons, he counted box by box, checked everything, one by one.

— I was a child and I didn't like having to count fifty boxes of weapons with sixty or seventy each. — Zedekiah also remembers, running his hands through his hair. — One of the things he used to say was that if we want something done right, we should do it ourselves. Either that, or face the consequences of mistakes made later.

— That way, there's no way the loads he sent to you would arrive with the flaws they were having. — Heros continues — Someone was intercepting them before they reached his hands and taking the goods and falsifying a large part of them.

— From then on, the father began to suspect Dostoevsky. — Lohan — He was always attentive to all your actions and due to his proximity to you, he would rather not accuse you without proof.

— We started receiving your drugs in the same way you received us and we received fewer boxes of weapons than agreed. — Noah, he says now: — When Dad had enough evidence to rub Dostoevsky in the face and tell him everything, they set a trap, luring him into the damn warehouse and setting it on fire. However, Dostoevsky had a conversation with his father before, confessing everything and accusing him of being the mastermind.

— And how are you sure about all this, if they were just a few kids? — my father asks.

— After our father's death and our entry into the criminal organization in the United States, we searched for answers. — Heros moves away from the wall, still with his arms crossed. — Sweet, you haven't eaten for many hours; need to feed to maintain the health and safety of our babies. You are carrying three children.

Dad watches me, still finding our involvement strange.

— There's no way you want to keep me from the rest of the conversation. — I say while crossing my arms in the same way as him — Continue, it was when you went to Russia and “kidnapped” me — I sign with quotation marks —, in that corridor. I realized that the individuals on the ground were Vladimir's collaborators.

Noah gets up from the sofa and walks towards the kitchen, which is integrated into the living room. From there, you can hear everything we said, so there was no problem for me to prepare something, for fear of missing our conversation. However, I didn't feel comfortable leaving my father alone on the couch, as I didn't trust him not to act impulsively and cause new chaos.

— Yes. We were in Russia for two and a half weeks. Zedekiah got the camera footage from the warehouse where Dad was murdered and we were able to capture the two henchmen who helped him that day. One of them even stated that you, Mr. Petrov, were the ones who gave the order to Dostoevsky to eliminate the traitor, who was my father. — Luther said, standing up and approaching where Dad and I were sitting.

— Hey! — I exclaimed, getting up and positioning myself in front of him, to protect him from any action against my father. — My father didn't order anything to be done. Vladimir claimed to have discovered everything: who was robbing us, and that he would take care of the matter himself.

— I never suspected Christopher until Vladimir showed me part of their recorded conversation. — Dad stands up calmly, walks past me, and prepares to face his future sons-in-law. I hope this conversation doesn't end in tragedy. Meanwhile, the boys remain impassive. — Even so, I always considered your father a person of great value. A true friend. So I asked my little treasure to come to you in that dirty alley, pretending to be lost in the streets, when in fact, she knew you very well.

— The godfather was fully aware that you were looking for him and devised a plan to get rid of you. He wanted us to attack you by surprise, but I was the one who suggested… — I look away from them. Swallowing hard, I finish — the idea of ​​looking like a scared girl who left school late and didn't know who you were. I knew you wouldn't let me leave a crime scene, where I recognized your faces, without you taking some action.

— What if Heros had murdered you, instead of taking you? — Luther asks.

My father laughs, and they don't understand.

— You've already seen her fight while pregnant, haven't you? — Dad says, wiping away his tears from laughing — Do you really think I would put my only daughter's life at risk if I didn't have full confidence that she would be able to deal with you? I prepared my girl to be the best. Better than any man I could have trained. I created her to be unbeatable. And do you know why? — he gets even closer to Heros and Luther, almost bringing their faces together.

— Faina — Noah sits next to me, holding out a plate with two well-stuffed sandwiches and a glass of hot milk — Eat! — he tells me while I look at him fondly. Without him waiting, I give him a quick kiss on the lips.

My father clears his throat, clearing his throat to get our attention.

— I didn't train her to be a deadly weapon for my interests, but rather to become the heir to my mafia. Because she is a woman, many consider her weak and underestimate my girl. — He approaches Heros, and my heart races, but Noah sits me down again, asking me to eat once more. — I trained her to be feared by all, men and women, since she was just five years old. I was strict, yes.

“But I don’t live in a delicate world; She is the daughter of a mobster and we face risks every day in this environment. I raised her for this world, aware of the dangers and certain that she can face them and more. So when Faina was just thirteen, I allowed her to go on a mission alone; my wife almost castrated me — he looks at me with pride in his eyes, very different from what I saw moments before we got here — but my Faina handled more than twenty men on her own very well. She didn’t come back in one piece, she had some broken ribs and her face was full of bruises.”

I feel the tension in the room increase and Noah, moving his leg behind me on the couch, sits behind me, stretching his legs around me.

— Too extreme! — he whispers in my ear — I want to punch your father right now, but that would hurt you. But baby, we will never do that to our children. We will leave them out of the mafia unless they are big enough and want to be part of it.

— Did you manage to risk your daughter's life like that? — Lohan asks angrily, also getting up.

I see the three of their hands clenched into fists.

— Keep to yourself, boy! — he says to Lohan, without looking away from Heros and Luther — I did what I considered right at the time, and that turned her into the strong and fearless woman she is today. She is ready to fend for herself, without needing her father or any man. You, who will be parents, will understand what it's like to raise a daughter in this mafia world. I didn't put her in danger; she was always exposed. I just taught her how to face difficulties and find her own way out of them.

Not only that, but I remember exactly the day I came home all broken and bleeding more with a smile on my face because I had managed to deal with them all, being only thirteen years old, alone.

— I don't regret nor blame my father for any fracture or bruise. With the advent of motherhood, I have an even greater understanding of what he did to make me who I am today. The fear of not having done what could have happened to me, his only daughter. He used what was weak as a strength. I understand that all his adversaries would be looking for me or my mother to use us against him. — I emphasize.