Page 72 of Bratva Butcher

Aleksandr was thinking ahead. Expanding the business and doing it the correct way, making sure to vet clients first and put them through rigorous testing before committing.

It showed me what I already knew. Aleksandr was ready to take my place.

I thought perhaps it would bring forth feelings of sorrow and grief, knowing my time was coming to end.

But it didn’t. Pride bloomed in my chest instead.

Nikolai also told me about Tatiana, and I had to act like I didn’t already know about their relationship because the conversation we needed to have was one to be had in private. Just the two of us.

It killed me not to say anything. I had already left it too long, and regret slithered down my spine at my decision to wait for him to be the one to bring the topic up.

Lukyan had a stalker—afemalestalker—which was a bigger surprise than the initial news itself. But of course, Lukyan was excited about it, though he tried his best to hide it. There was no denying the way his eyes lit up with anticipation as he talked about it, though. He couldn’t wait to find out who it was, and most likely, stalk them back.

Then, there was the news about his engagement to Anya Tarasov instead of Aleksandr. I suspected that was because ofthe cartel woman. And that my father, upon hearing the news about Dominik’s attack on my home, had garnered nothing but some amused one-liner.

Fucking asshole.

All in all, everything seemed like it was going fine without me. Better than fine, actually. They all seemed to have everything under control.

But that left me wondering who was the one running the shots now that they were all there with me.

The time had come.

Aleksandr, Nikolai, Lukyan, Autumn and myself were all standing in the middle of the training area, anxiously waiting for the next round of Talon’s games to begin. We’d been dragged from our beds, cuffed and shackled from head to toe and marched down into the depths of the colosseum in single file. We could hear the crowd behind the stone walls, cheering and chanting, demanding the show they’d come for.

I had no more time. I needed to tell my children I loved them. Illayana was still missing, but I had three others standing right there in front of me, and knowing what our odds were, I couldn’t let it happen without saying the words.

“Go warm up. I don’t know when we’ll be called to the arena, but I want you all to be ready when we are,” I commanded.

“Yes, Father,” they all parroted back.

But when Nikolai went to turn, I grabbed his arm, stopping him. He frowned, looking down at my hand in confusion.

Autumn was standing at my side. “Give me a moment with my son,” I told her.

She saluted me. “As His Royal Grouchiness commands.” She bowed eloquently and then bounced away. Humor trickled through me, and I had to refrain from letting a smile slip free.

I focused on Nikolai. “Are you sure you’re okay with what we discussed last night?”

When the lights had gone out, we’d all had a family talk about what we were going to do when the games began. Talon might have said he wasn’t going to make me fight my children, pitting us against each other, but I wasn’t going to take his word on that. There was every chance he might change his mind, shove us all in that arena and tell us to fight it out. That only one person could leave alive.

If that was the case, we needed to come up with a plan.

And we had.

Nikolai smiled sadly. “I’m sure. I’m not capable of killing any of you.”

“Nor am I.” I squeezed his shoulder softly. Guilt smothered my chest, making tears burn behind my eyes. “It’s a father’s job to protect his children, and I am so sorry that it is a job I have failed miserably.”

“Father—”

I held up a palm, silencing him. I needed to get it out, and I needed him not to interrupt me. “If I thought for even a moment that it would make a difference, I would beg Talon to let you all go.” And I meant it.

I would get on my hands and knees and beg Talon, tell him anything he wanted to hear if Ireallythought it would make adifference. But I knew it wouldn’t. Talon was never going to give up the opportunity to watch me suffer.

“But we both know that’s pointless,” I continued, overwhelmed with so many emotions that I felt like I was going to explode. “I wish this was never a position you had to be in—”

“Father,” Nikolai pressed sternly, cutting off my rambling. I looked him in the eyes and held nothing back. I’d learnt from such a young age to hide my emotions. Not to let anyone see what I was feeling. Whether I was happy or sad. Scared or surprised. I got so used to it that it became hard for me to express anything anymore.

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