Page 118 of The Lazarov Bratva

Nastja, Ivan, and I sprint inside and come to a stop in the middle of the room, facing down the man I laid years of loyalty at the feet of.

Aleksander Orlova stands slowly, surrounded by several guards who stand strong with their rifles trained on me and my siblings. Men I used to call my own. Amid the sea faces, near the front left, stands Alexei.

I wondered when we would meet again.

“Kristof,” Aleksander barks, barely concealing the surprise on his face. “I’m impressed. I purposefully avoided all of the Family hotels.”

“Well.” I smirk, tilting my gun slightly. “You’re not the only one good at uncovering secrets.”

And I had a little help.

“I didn’t come here for chit-chat or even to negotiate.” I know where I stand. Alena is mine, and soon, the title of Pakhan will be as well. I will bring the Russian Mafia into a new era of prosperity and peace with Alena at my side. As it should be.

“Really?” Aleksander’s eyes narrow. “Not even to beg for your life?”

“It’s not me who’s going to beg.” I scoff. “Have you not seen the full picture yet? You came here with a handful of men and think you are on safe soil? You should have stayed in America. Your time is up, Aleksander.”

“Me?” A deep chuckle erupts from him. “Don’t you know that you have already lost? This is just a formality.”

My confidence wavers ever so slightly.

“It took no time at all to work out that you had scurried back to your home as if being here would protect you at all.” Aleksander steps forward, a movement mirrored by his guards. “Did you really think I would let you get away with kidnapping my daughter?”

“You would have found her if you retracted your head from the Kuznetsovs’ assholes,” I spit. “Your efforts to get her back? Pitiful, and I know because I was fucking in charge of it. So many of our enemies could have snuck in and swooped her away, but instead of even considering that, you took Mara’s word and wasted so much time searching your own people. It was almost too easy to keep her from you.”

“Enough!” Aleksander snaps. “I will be getting her back once we are done here.”

“She doesn’t want to come back,” I growl. “She wants to stay here with me. With someone who cares for her. Not that you would know a thing about what she wants if you’d ever spent an ounce of time with her.”

“Don’t tell me what I know about my own daughter!” Aleksander roars, pointing at me.

“You know nothing! You’ve always cared about her worth as a deal, as someone to be wed off to increase your own power,” I snarl back. “Treating her like some kind of object rather than someone you care about.”

Given my sexual desires, the irony isn’t lost on me.

“You were right there with me!” Aleksander’s face is almost purple. “By my side, making those decisions!”

“No! That was all you and Mara and that fucking wedding. I saw her for what she really was, what she really needed. Just like I see the countless men we’ve lost because of you, because you clung to the wrong opportunities. I mean” —I spread my arms wide— “you’re in Russia, and blind to the struggles of your own Family here, of your own people who rely on exports. Instead, you want to secure weapons from Mexico without a care!”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I know or don’t know! I have kept this family afloat for decades and you won’t stop that!” Aleksander snarks, erupting in his anger. “I know what is best!”

“Did the Irish tell you that?” I scoff lightly. I don’t know the extent of Irish involvement yet, but I know Aleksander wouldn’t be here without them. I have no doubt that Seamus betrayed me at that meeting.

“Fuck the Irish,” Aleksander snarls. “You try to deflect, but you, I trusted you. I trusted you with the Family, with my own daughter. You were her godfather, for fuck’s sake! But no, you’re like a fucking dog, Kristof, and that’s all you will be. A dog that can’t let go of a bone once he has it. Not the Petrovs with your incessant pushing to have them taken care of, to our talk of Family here. Here is not where the power is, and now?”

Aleksander is seething, and my anger rises to meet him as each insult spews from his fat mouth. The small, quiet part of me that might have let him walk away alive shrivels up in an instant.

“You overstepped,” Aleksander roars, spitting saliva as well as words. “What’s your plan, huh? You turn up here, the three of you, and think you can kill me?”

“Yes.” I shrug, tightening my grip on my gun.

“And the men loyal to me?”

“They’ve all seen your leadership,” I bark out, clenching my teeth together. “It’s a wonder they don’t shoot you themselves.”

Aleksander roars and pulls a handgun from his belt and opens fire within half a second, giving me no time to react.

A terrible, deafening silence falls as Ivan, on my left, suddenly crumples to the ground like a rock. He folds as if there’s nothing but air inside his body, and when he lands, blood begins pooling around his head from a gunshot clean between his eyes.

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