Page 7 of Reign of Four

At least Andrei had the guts to rise to the top on his own goddamn work ethic. He doesn’t need my Baranova name to secure power nearly as bad as Liam does.

I can see it in Liam’s eyes. The fear. The way it ripples just beneath the surface, betraying any shred of confidence he pretends to have. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

And he knows it.

I lick my lips, getting another taste of metal. “If you want power, Liam, real power, I can help you get it. We can take it from the one person standing above us in rank. It’ll be easy as . . .” I jerk my head to the side, making a cracking sound with my tongue against my teeth. “With Katya out of the way, the Bratva will be looking for its next leader.” I incline my head towards him. “Whoever is standing close enough to the throne will get to claim it first. I wonder—” I take a deep breath—“will it be you, Liam?”

Or will it be me?

I’ve never wanted the throne. It’s no secret that a woman, even someone with Baranova blood like me, can’t actually claim any power from it. Bratva tradition won’t allow it. But Andrei, Mikhail, and Ezra make me feel powerful. If I wanted to take a little power for myself, I know they’d willingly give it to me. I could make my own orders. Break a few rules to create new ones.

It’s within the realm of possibility when I marry Andrei.

Siding with Liam, on the other hand, will accomplish nothing.

But if I’m going to secure not only my safety, but the safety of the ones I love, there are two people standing in the way. Liam, and my grandmother.

It’s only a matter of time before Liam dies. He’s a temporary nuisance, in the grand scheme of things. But Katya can slip away easily, blending into the shadows to disappear like smoke. If she does, there’s no telling when she’ll try this bullshit again, putting targets on our backs and setting the bounties high.

I never wanted her to die, but I don’t think I have a choice anymore. With the list of traitors holding knives against my back growing by the day, I can’t risk it—not when she’s already cut me deep. Her knife is the sharpest of all.

Liam eyes me warily from across the tiny room. “You want me to kill your grandmother?”

I have to be smart about how I play this, or he won’t believe me. “In the chapel, before our ceremony, you said that all you wanted was me.” I bite my bottom lip and look up at him from beneath my lashes. “That none of the rest—the money, the city, the Bratva—none of it mattered.” I let my face fall, dragging in a quick breath. “I just want to be sure that you mean it. That you really want me, not any of this . . . other stuff.”

Killing Katya means that Liam can have all of the power the throne provides. It will be the ultimate test—does he want me, or does he want the power that comes from marrying the sole-surviving Baranova heir?

Something softens in Liam’s gaze, and he looks away from me to card his fingers through his hair. “Of course I want you, Valentina. That’s what all of this is for.” He exhales slowly, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he clenches his teeth. Blood trickles down his chin, and he idly wipes it across his sleeve. “I want you more than anything, Valentina. I always have.”

Okay. This is good. This, I can work with. It might even be better than the rage. He’s too hot-and-cold for me to predict properly, but if I tease out the softer parts of him, maybe those are the pieces I can control.

Maybe together, we can steal the knife from my grandmother’s hands and shove it down her throat. Then I can turn my men loose on Liam.

Two traitors, one blade.

I take a deep breath, swallowing all of the rage boiling in my gut. He wants a submissive wife. It’s a role I’ve spent years learning to play. I can stomach it for a few days if it means I can claw my way out of this pit and back to my men.

I feign a sad smile. “All anyone seems to want from me is my name. I’m not even sure that—” My breath catches, but it’s not fake. These next words hurt. “—they’d want me if it was just me.”

Would my men still love Valentina if she was a no-name nobody from nowhere?

“I was there first,” Liam says, jumping in to fill the space between my words with what he wants to hear. He quickly closes the distance between us and kneels at my feet. Kissing each of my knees, he looks up at me tenderly. “I’ve always been here for the right reasons, Valentina. For you. Oh, baby, don’t cry.”

A tear that I hadn’t felt coming slips free. I’ve never said those words aloud—that my men might want me for my name, and not for who I am. I know the Bratva comes with the territory—that Andrei was promised his position as pakhan as part of the deal for marrying me. That’s the undeniable truth.

He’s also told me that he loves me.

But Mikhail and Ezra haven’t.

I bite my lip as another tear rolls down my cheek. I’m sure a part of them loves me. I’ve felt it, I think, in the moments we’re together. The way they’re determined to protect me, with a ferocity vibrating in the timbre of their voices. How they vehemently hate the man kneeling before me. How they hate the way my grandmother lies and schemes—manipulating me to her benefit.

They hate when others abuse me.

Isn’t that a form of love?

Liam brushes away my tears as he stands, cradling my cheek in his palm. “You can trust me, baby. Be good to me, and I’ll be good to you. Don’t you remember how good we were? How well I’ve treated you all these years?” He leans his forehead against mine, puffing a breath against my lips. “They’ve gotten you all confused, putting lies in your head.” His lips curve into a snarl, and when he pulls back to search my eyes, the rage from earlier has returned to the surface.

I’ll need to be really careful with how I handle him.

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