Page 36 of Sexting the Silverfox

“His pride, Audrey.”

“And what did Papa think about it?”

Anton lowers his gaze for a moment. “He tried to talk some sense into Piotr. He keeps trying, for that matter. Every month, he takes the old geezer out for a round of golf. He keeps sending him expensive gifts. We believe Piotr will give up on this nonsense sooner or later.”

“So, he’s fine with it,” I scoff, crossing my arms. “The man is actively trying to kill his only daughter, and Papa takes him out golfing.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Audrey. And you know it.”

“Not really, Anton. It’s actually pretty simple. Family before everything. Does our father think I put him in a precarious situation with his business partners when I left?”

My brother nods once, a flicker of amusement lingering in his cold, blue eyes.

“But he didn’t think Piotr put him in a precarious situation when he put a price on my head. What the fuck?” I say.

“I’ll admit, pride can often get the better of Papa. But we both know he will welcome you with open arms should you return.”

“And we both know I will never do that. And apparently, I can’t.”

“I know,” he sighs deeply. “Listen, Audrey, I know it’s complicated and it’s infuriating, but he had plans for you. He still has plans for you. That’s why I want you to stay away. But you can’t stay here, either, with the Abramovics knowing where you are.”

“I am ready to move to another city if I have to. I’d rather stay here with the people I’m genuinely fond of, though. Anton, I didn’t call you here so you could rescue me. I called you here so you can help me get rid of the Abramovic people.”

Anton runs a hand through his hair, then pours himself another cup of tea, taking a moment to taste one of the pistachio cream cakes while I watch in heavy silence.

“I can’t fight the whole clan for you. I can’t go to war with them without dragging Papa into it. And if there’s one thing we’ve steered clear of until now, it’s precisely this—going into the others’ turf. You, on the other hand, should’ve picked a different city to live in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Anton. I forgot to check my Russian mob app to see which city in the whole United States of America I could move to without crossing an Ivan or a Sergei,” I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement.

“You’re a Fedorov, Audrey, whether you like it or not. Whether you use a fake ID or your own identity, you’re still a Fedorov. You were born one, and you will die one. That is never going to change, and it’s about time you accept that. It doesn’t matter that you’re not active in the Bratva; you are still a member of the family, and that makes you a valuable asset. That’s why Abramovic is after you. He wants to muscle his way back into New York, and you just happened to come into his city. I can’t blame him for trying.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

I’m baffled. “How exactly? I just need you to reach out to those pricks and ask them to back off. Propose a deal or something. Give them a warehouse area by the pier or some neighborhood in the Bronx. Pay them off. We’ve got cash to spare.”

“The best I can do is give you your own security detail until you figure out where you’re going to move next,” Anton says, lowering his gaze for a moment. “I’m not all-powerful, Audrey. I’m not even first in line for the throne. If Vitaly finds out I spoke to you, he’ll hand my ass back to me, and then our father will do worse. Appreciate that I came all this way in the first place.”

I can’t help but feel sorry for my brothers. They were born into this, just like me. Except, unlike me, they would’ve never considered running away because the Bratva gives them a sense of belonging, especially since our mother died. They couldn’t leave our father on his own. And someone needed to protect me as well. There’s much more responsibility and expected loyalty from the males.

I ran off, and they were left behind to pick up the pieces. And our father can be so mean, cruel, and unforgiving. I’m sure they suffered tremendously in my absence. I’m certain he punished them for not keeping a close enough eye on me.

To this day, I still suspect that Anton and Vitaly chose to look the other way while I made plans and implemented them in order to escape from New York. I doubt they will ever admit it, but the mere fact that Anton is here without the whole family in tow to drag me back with them sort of confirms my suspicion.

“I’m sorry, Anton,” I say after a long silence. “I’m sorry I ran away without telling you or Vitaly anything. And I’m sorry that I haven’t reached out before now and that I left you behind.”

“You did what you felt was best for you. I can’t hold that against you, little sister.”

“But still, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for asking you to fix this mess, too. I know it’s not fair. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“What about Jason Winchester?”

I felt my face drop. “What?”

My blood runs icy cold. I’m paralyzed in my seat, staring at Anton as though he were the devil himself. He knows about Jason. If he’s known where I’ve been this whole time, along with every other place I’ve lived, of course he would know about Jason, too.

“Are you two serious?” Anton asks, half-smiling.

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