Chapter 172

I kick back my chair and grab him by the collar. “Tell me it’s not true.” Because even now, with all this damning evidence in front of me, a part of me wants to believe in him. My little brother—my family. My blood.

Yuri kills that hope with two words. “It’s true.”

BAM!

I watch him reel from my punch. I’m breathing heavily now, nostrils flared, my vision red. Blood trickles from Yuri’s cheekbone, and all I can think is that I should’ve picked a better spot to hit: snapped his nose in half, blinded him in one eye.

“You betrayed me,” I spit.

He wipes the blood away calmly. “I’m gonna let you have that one because you’re upset. But if you don’t get your hands off me in the next five seconds, we’re gonna have a problem. Or rather, they are.” His eyes flit to the picture to make his point.

“You’d do this to them? To me?!” I yell, uncaring of all the other guests staring at us. “Your own blood?!”

Unexpectedly, Yuri laughs. It’s a crazed, manic sound, clashing with his personality like nails on a chalkboard. “Blood?” he scoffs. “We’re not blood, Matvey. We’ve never been blood.”

I fall silent.

What does that even mean? If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s the tie that binds us: blood. Thicker than water, thicker than anything.

“Explain yourself,” I order.

“Gladly.”

And he begins.

It was the day of the DNA test.

Back then, you didn’t trust April as far as you could throw her. You didn’t know her, didn’t know what she wanted from you. So you entrusted me with the most important task you’d ever given me.

Determining if the child was truly yours.

I don’t think you realize how much I looked up to you then. I don’t think you ever did. You were this big, strong pakhan who could conquer every country he set foot in. Russia killed so many of us. If it hadn’t been for you, it would’ve killed me, too.

I wanted to prove myself so badly.

But something went wrong. The hair sample you gave me—by the time I got to the lab, I realized I’d lost it. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was the end of the world to me. Because I’d made a mistake, and you didn’t tolerate mistakes.

So I improvised. I took a few strands of my own hair and gave them to the technician. I thought, why not? The match wouldn’t be as high, but it would still be there. If the kid was yours, that is.

Then the test came back negative.

I didn’t even think to question it, you know? I was so sure April had lied to you. I was about to tell you as much.

Then I got a call.

I don’t know how he found me. My guess is the same way he found April: he was keeping tabs on lab reports, anything tied to your name or hers. Maybe he was always going to call.

When he told me who he was, I was ready to hang up. I told him to stay the fuck away from me. From us.

But there was no “us.”

See, your research was right… up to a point. Carmine did have a relationship with my mother.

But by then, she already had a child.

Her husband had died, she said, of sickness. The same sickness that took everyone back then: cold, hunger, poverty. She needed protection, and he needed somewhere to lay low.

Then they parted ways.

I don’t know if it was before the sickness or after. My memories are fuzzy, and I doubt he’d tell me the truth if it didn’t serve his purposes. I’m not stupid.

But he was telling the truth on one thing.

I didn’t believe him, of course, so I sought the answer for myself. I swiped a few strands of hair from one of your jackets, ran the test again, then ran a new one. Not between you and April’s child—between you and me.

Can you guess what it said?

All my life, I’d thought I had one thing: a brother. A brother who was my hero, who saved me from the snow and helped me make something of myself. Who gave me a real shot at life.

But I didn’t.

At first, I didn’t care. So what if we weren’t actually related? We were brothers in everything that mattered. We grew up together, came here together, built our empire together. Surely one piece of paper couldn’t change that?

And yet, I knew it would.

Because there was nothing you trusted more than blood.

So when Carmine called again, I answered.

He told me what would happen to me if you found out. That you’d be disgusted with me, get rid of me the first chance you got. I argued viciously, but I couldn’t bury my head in the sand forever. The more I denied them, the more Carmine’s grim words made sense.

You trusted me because I was your brother. And now, I wasn’t. I was just a nobody who knew too much.

I was so scared you’d kill me.

But Carmine said he didn’t mind that I wasn’t his biological son. He was in the market for a successor. As long as I played my part, he would welcome me with open arms.

I felt so sick, I threw up then and there.

I hung up without giving him an answer. He said it was fine; he could wait. He’d need a favor soon. I could give him my answer then.

I was torn up inside. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to tell you, but I was terrified. What if I lost you? What if I lost more than you?

I hoped you’d change your mind. That April would change it.

But your mind wasn’t changing at all. Even with her in the mix, you were adamant: blood was the only thing that mattered. Without that, there was nothing.

Then Carmine called in that favor. You were planning a war against him, and he wanted to know where you’d strike. To cut off your legs before the start of the race.

He wanted the D.C. acquisition.

So I gave it to him.

I had no other choice. I was terrified out of my mind. I wanted to be loyal, but I didn’t want to die.

I didn’t join him then. I thought I could sweep this under the rug and still stay by your side. Instead, I asked for only one thing in return: Do not tell him.

How naïve I was.

The lie caught up to me. I didn’t cover my tracks well enough: soon, Ivan realized something was wrong with the logs. That someone from the inner circle was selling information to the enemy. He asked me to tell you. He thought it’d be better coming from me. Maybe this would finally push you into action.

He didn’t know he was signing his death sentence.

I never wanted to lie to you, Matvey. Until then, I hadn’t. I was guilty of omission, but that was where it ended. Even when I hid April away, I did my best to avoid it.

That day, I lied.

I lied to your face. I brought you the information because Ivan gave me no other choice, but I couldn’t tell you it was me. Instead, I let you suspect everyone around you.

And then Ivan lost his patience.

When you killed him, I hoped the truth would die with him. But you kept searching. You found Anatoly. And I knew it was only a matter of time before he talked.

I should have killed him while I had the chance.

When you sent me off that last day, I didn’t follow Vlad. I followed you. I needed to know what you knew.

Then you went to the warehouse.

I knew then I had to make a choice. And this time, it wasn’t just my life on the line.