Page 84 of Crown of Hate

“If all goes according to plan, Semyon and Alexei will return to help you. I still have some loyal men in Russia.”

Alexei gives me a disapproving glare. “Like hell. I’m going wherever you’re going. I?—”

“You’ll take my place here as second-in-command,” I cut him off. “And take care of whatever business you have with the Irish mob. I’m not changing my mind.”

Ilya and Alexei exchange a look, then sigh in unison. They know better than to argue.

Ilya is the first to speak. “Akim won’t be an easy target. He’s more cunning than Ivan ever was.”

“He won’t sit on his ass if he catches wind of your return to Russia,” Alexei adds. “He’ll kill Boris and take over the second he smells you coming.”

“That’s why I plan on tricking him.” I’ve thought it through and considered all the possibilities. It’s risky, but it’s our best shot. With my men, a direct confrontation would cost too many lives, and tipping him off would only give him time to prepare. No, the only way to end this swiftly is with the element of surprise. His guard will be down if he thinks he knows my next move.

“What’s the plan?” Ilya asks, a cocky smile growing on his face.

I turn to Alexei. “Put some eyes on Akim and Boris. Make sure they know they’re watched, but don’t overdo it. We want them uneasy, not paranoid.”

“You’re buying time,” Ilya says, catching on quick.

“Exactly. If Akim thinks I’m still plotting my next move, he won’t see the knife coming until it’s buried in his back.”

“And Alya?” he asks.

“She’s coming to Russia with me,” I say, swirling the last of my tequila.

Ilya clears his throat. “Mikhail, this is war we’re talking about. Let me keep her safe here. You can come back for her when the dust settles.”

I huff. “Not a chance in hell. She goes where I go. I can’t trust anyone else with her safety. I’ll die protecting her if I have to, and my most trusted men will be with us in Russia.”

“We’re more than friends, Mikhail,” Ilya says calmly. “We’re brothers. She’s your woman, and that means I’d give up my life for her without hesitation.”

I shake my head. “I can’t allow that. I already owe Kira for the years I left her on her own. She loves you more than anything, so I won’t put that responsibility on you. If anything, just promise me you’ll look after her.”

He lifts his glass in a solemn toast. “You have my word.”

We clink glasses and drink, sealing the promise.

“Enough about mafia business. What had you so distracted earlier?” Alexei asks with a mischievous grin. “I know it wasn’t Fionn. That bastard can’t rattle you like that.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Ilya chimes in.

I fall silent for a moment, recalling my earlier fuck-up. ‘I love you.’ Three simple words that had left me frozen, unable to say a damn thing back. I fucked up royally, and I have a feeling Alya’s livid. Rightfully so.

“We didn’t fight. I was just a world-class idiot.” I swig the rest of my drink and lean back in my seat. “She told me she loves me, and I… I choked.”

Alexei’s eyes narrow on me. “By ‘choked,’ you mean…”

“I didn’t say it back. Couldn’t get the words out,” I answer honestly. In our world, showing weakness is a death sentence. But if I can’t share stuff like this with my best friend and the guy who gave up everything to follow me to Chicago, who can I trust?

Alexei’s loyalty is unshakeable. He has stuck by my side for years, never questioning my leadership, never betraying me, even when he had everything to gain by siding with Akim. And Ilya, well, we have our history, plus he’s family now.

Ilya hisses, glaring at me as if I’m the universe’s biggest idiot. And I don’t blame him. Even I think I’m one.

“How the hell did we end up friends? I thought someone in my sphere would be better at this whole romance thing. But you’re absolutely shit, man,” he drawls, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“That’s rich coming from you, the ‘master of romance’ who knew jack shit about romance until he met my sister,” I taunt back.

My mind drifts back to Alya and that angry glower she gave me before she left. My chest constricts, and my heart starts pounding against my ribs.

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