Chapter 173 173

Chapter 173 173
“Mama,” Bogdan says in a low voice. “What is she talking about?”

“Of course your boys don’t know,” Svetlana says with a laugh that’s dark and murky. “You were always good at pretending. I’m the only one who saw through you.”

“I know how you feel, Svetlana,” says Nikita wearily. “And I’m sorry you suffered for it. But Yakov was never yours. Not in any way that mattered. A signature on a piece of paper means nothing.”

Isaak’s eyes miss nothing. His gaze dances between Svetlana and Nikita with growing realization.

“We were going to run away together,” Nikita explains. “Yakov and I. We were going to disappear one day. And we were going to take the boys with us.”

Svetlana’s eyes go wide at first before narrowing in rage. “You were going to take my son?”

“You hated him,” Nikita snaps. “He was a pawn to you. An heir you could control. Whereas we… we wanted him to know what it’s like to be loved. To show him that the world can be a beautiful place.”

Her voice is pure fire. For the first time since I’ve met her, she actually seems alive.

Nikita looks at Bogdan. Then she turns to Isaak. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry, my sons. I wish I had told you both sooner. I was just… scared. I was a coward.”

“Fuck,” Bogdan says, running a hand down his face.

“That’s not all,” I say. “Nikita, you need to tell them the rest.”

“There’s more?” Bogdan gapes.

His shock and disappointment is painted across his face. But Isaak’s mask of composure never drops. Even now, even when the foundation of his world is breaking apart, he never forgets his training.

Nikita takes a deep breath. “Isaak, you killed one of Maxim’s men the day Vitaly died.”

“The fucker who killed him,” Bogdan answers before Isaak.

“No,” Isaak says suddenly.

And I know he’s figured it out. It’s the reason he’s been so quiet this whole time. While everyone else reacts, Isaak processes. He reads the nuances between every sentence, between each expression.

“No, we killed the wrong murderer,” continues Isaak. “He was planted to kill Otets. But someone else beat him to it. Isn’t that right, mother?”

She doesn’t break eye contact when she nods.

“I am the one who killed Vitaly Vorobev,” she says. “I killed my husband.”

The silence feels claustrophobic. A hundred violent men held sway by the secrets of two old women.

A war pinned in place by love that’s stayed hidden for years.

“Mama…” Bogdan’s voice is filled with shocked awe. He’s staring at Nikita as though he has no idea who she is anymore. “Mama… it… it can’t be true.”

She looks at him with a resigned expression. “It’s true, my boy. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“Why?”

She shakes her head. “I loved Yakov. And I always knew I would avenge his death. It took years, but in the end, I did exactly that. I took his life the same way your father took Yakov’s: one drop of poison at a time.”

Svetlana steps forward, her lip curled into a sneer. “And you think this information changes anything? Are we supposed to be grateful to you?”

“I am still the fucking rightful don,” Maxim snarls. “No matter who you spread your legs for.”

Bogdan flinches noticeably, but Isaak doesn’t budge. He senses something coming. One more bombshell of truth. I can feel it, too, like an encroaching storm on the horizon. But I can’t quite make out the shape of it just yet. I only know that it’s coming.

Nikita turns to address Maxim directly for the first time. “You think your claim to the Vorobev Bratva is legitimate because you are the oldest son of the oldest son.”

“Yes,” he snarls. “Do you need me to draw you a fucking chart?”

Nikita glances to Isaak for a moment. My instincts start to tingle hotter.

It can’t be…

“You are wrong.”

Maxim bristles. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Isaak is not Vitaly’s child. He is Yakov’s. The oldest son of the oldest son. He is your brother. He is your don.”

I keep my eyes trained on Isaak, but even now, his mask doesn’t falter. I’m the only one who can see the subtle shift in the clench of his jaw. The only one who sees what is happening inside him.

The only one who knows what this means.

“Liar!” Svetlana hisses.

Maxim looks absolutely dumbfounded. He looks at Nikita, then at his mother, then finally at Isaak.

“Don’t listen to her, Maxim. Don’t listen to any of them!” Svetlana says desperately, clenching his arm. “It doesn’t fucking matter. Take what you want! That’s what a real don does.”

Then, as chaos threatens to swallow us all…

Isaak makes his move.

40

CAMILA

I can’t take my eyes off him.

He’s always projected power. Strength clings to him like a second skin. But this time, it’s different. He’s angry, but he’s completely in control.

Maxim is almost exactly his height, and yet, the man seems to shrink back a little as his cousin steps forward like an avenging fucking angel.

“I spared your life once before,” Isaak intones. “And I’m prepared to spare it one more time.”

Maxim’s eyes go wide. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that this changes everything.”

He glances at me, and I know he’s thought of me before deciding on making this offer. I only hope that, whatever it is, Maxim will be smart enough to take it.

“You and I… we’re brothers,” he says. “And I was taught that family trumps everything else.”

Svetlana’s lip curls, but she’s not looking at Isaak at all. She’s got her gaze fixed on Nikita.

“Stand down now, and I will let you live in exile,” Isaak says. “Stand your ground, and you will die along with the rest of your men.” He takes a slow, steady breath to let his words sink in. “You are no don, Maxim. You enjoy the lifestyle of the rich and privileged. You enjoy the pursuit of power, but won’t have any idea what to do when you have it.”

“Those are self-serving words,” Svetlana snaps.

“Not really. Nothing will change for me.”

“Unless you die,” she retorts.

“But he won’t,” Nikita says, stepping forward. “He was born for this. He was always going to be the don.”

That seems to be the last straw for Svetlana. I see it in her eyes: she can sense defeat on the horizon. Before that happens, she’s determined to get what revenge she can.

She yanks the gun from Maxim’s holster, aims it directly at Nikita, and pulls the trigger.

“No!” I scream.

I lunge towards Svetlana. But she’s too far and I’m too slow.

The gun fires.

Nikita drops to the ground.

I hear someone scream again. It might even have been me, but I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

I find myself on my hands and knees as all hell breaks loose, scrambling toward Nikita’s slumped form. Another gunshot rings out. Who fired, I don’t know. Who was hit, I don’t know.

Before I can get to Nikita, someone grabs me by the neck and reels me back. For a moment, I think it’s Isaak, but then I recognize the dusky scent. He’s still wearing the same cologne he used to use when we first met.

“Maxim!” I cry, trying to pry his hand off me.

He ignores me. I feel something cold and hard press against my temple. “Stop now!” Maxim yells. “OR I will fucking blow her brains out.”

The chaos recedes almost instantly. Everyone freezes—and slowly, the picture before me comes into focus.