Page 150 of The Lazarov Bratva

“Not yet. Believe me, I want to kill him more than anything.”

“As revenge?”

“Partly, but no, it’s about Alena. She’s pregnant, August. She’s carrying my baby.”

“Kristof, my boy!” August booms so loud that the line crackles. “That’s fantastic news! Congratulations!”

For some reason, I can’t help the smile that slips across my lips at his words. A small bubble of pride swells in my chest and seeps into my heart.

“Thank you.”

“She is well, I trust?”

“Yes, although I do have one concern.”

“About the baby?” August’s voice drops immediately. “Tell me.”

“Alyona was the mole, and I can’t say for sure how much information she passed to Aleksander before I cut her down, but she knew Alena was pregnant. Knew before me.”

“So there is a chance she passed it on to them,” August reasons grimly. “I dare not think what he would do to that baby. In his eyes, Alena’s value rests on her ability to provide an heir.”

“The right heir,” I spit out in disgust. “To whomever he gives her to.”

“So, now you have even more reason to want that bastard dead,” August says.

“As long as Aleksander is alive, he’s a threat to Alena and my child. I won’t stand for it.”

“Believe me, Son. I am with you.” Anger bleeds into August’s tone. “But we have a slightly more pressing concern.”

I narrow my eyes. What the fuck could be more important?

“The Irish,” August says.

Touché.

“If they are indeed working with Aleksander like we suspect, then my men and I, we cannot match the firepower they have at their disposal. We are a split Family right now, Kristof, but the Irish are united. If Aleksander has them in his pocket, for whatever reason, then we are at a painful disadvantage.”

As August talks, my fears of Alena running away to save herself and the baby slowly become an option rather than a fear. If I were to do what was best for her, would letting her go be the right thing?

Set her free to live her life away from this. Give our child the life neither of us had.

I’m too selfish for that.

“Fine. We need to find out where the Irish stand. From there, we can plan what to do next.” Pressing my fingertips into my eyes, I massage gently against the tension building in my skull. “If I’m being honest, August, I’m running out of ideas.”

“Don’t. Listen, even if he has the Irish, he’s in our territory right now, so we can plan for that and the rest will…” He takes a deep, audible breath. “We will deal.”

“Alright, thanks for checking in, August.”

“Of course. Take care.”

Silence falls, and the world outside darkens as the early morning fog continues to thicken. As time passes, more and more of the world is swallowed by the creeping white wall of shadow, and with it comes the strangest sensation of the walls closing in.

Grunting, I turn my back to the window and bite the bullet.

I call Seamus next.

I could dance around the entire issue, but in the interest of saving time, I go straight to the head of the snake.

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