Page 152 of Bratva Butcher

From as early as I could remember, Father instilled the importance of family on me. That no matter what, you needed to have your family’s back. Protect them always. But my grandfather didn’t feel the same way. To him, family was nothing more than a means to an end. The only thing we were good for was whatwecould contribute tohislegacy.

When I remembered all of that, I hissed under my breath, “That motherfucker.” My eyes slammed on Aleksandr. “What are you doing about this?”

“Nothing right now.” He put his hand up, stopping me from the preverbal shitstorm I was about to unleash. “Before you start, just listen. Grandfather is too big of an adversary to take on right now, and you know it. We need to get Father sorted first, then go from there.”

Okay. He has a point. “Fine. But this conversation is far from over.” I spun on my heels and marched towards my father’s office, fingers curled tight around the axe in my hands, determination in my steps.

Aleksandr rushed up to my side. “Goddamn it, Illayana, just hang on. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Really? Because I do.”

When I got to the door, Aleksandr blocked it with his body. “Look, Father is not in his right mind right now. Smashing down his door might make things worse.”

“Tough shit.” I studied him suspiciously. There was something else going on. Something he was hiding from me. He looked almost…worried. As if he feared something bad would happen. Thatour fatherwould do something bad. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He didn’t answer. “Just trust me. I think the best thing we can do for him right now is just to give him space.”

Usually, I would listen to him in a heartbeat. But this was one of those rare, miraculous times when I didn’t think my big brother was right.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s had a week’s worth of space. That’s enough.” I hefted the axe up into the air and strengthened my stance. “Either move, or I’ll go through you.”

He gave me an “As if you would” kind of look.

I smiled.

Nikolai, Lukyan and Arturo all took a step back.

“I’d listen to her,” Nikolai warned, his hands moving to cover his privates like he was afraid I’d kick him in the balls or something.

I’d only done that once.

Okay, twice.

Three times max.

Aleksandr stood his ground. “She won’t—”

I swung. Aleksandr ducked like I knew he would because he had the reflexes of a damn cat, and the axe smashed into the door, the wood splintering.

My brother jumped up in a fury. “Are youinsane?!” he hissed, moving out of my way. “You could have taken my whole damn head off!”

“But, I didn’t,” I replied cheerfully. With a grunt, I pulled the axe out and struck again, hammering and hammering until the muscles in my arms started to burn from the effort.

My wonderful husband asked to take over after the first few swings. I declined, but by the time I finished, I wished I hadn’t.

This shit is hard.

Shards of wood fell away from the door with each strike. I glimpsed my father briefly on the other side. He didn’t move. Didn’t even glance in my direction despite the fact that I knew he could hear what was going on. It was like he just didn’t care. He kept staring into the flames from the fireplace as if it held him in some sort of trance. Like he was trapped, lost within those flames.

Blowing out an exhausted breath, I dropped the axe. It clanged to the ground. The hole I’d created was far from perfect, but it would do the trick.

I slipped out of my Louboutin's, leaving them exactly where they were, and moved to climb through.

Aleksandr grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Be careful,” he warned, staring me deep in the eyes.

“Why do you keep talking like Father is dangerous? Like he’s going tohurt me?” I questioned.

He chose not to answer. Again. It was really starting to piss me off. “Just…be careful,” he repeated before letting me go.

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