Page 151 of Bratva Butcher

“Father isn’t suicidal,” Nikolai insisted, cutting in.

“Well, have any of youspokento him? Seen him? Made sure he’s okay?” I pressed.

Lukyan sat across from me on the couch, his head down. He didn’t engage in the conversation whatsoever, his eyes staying plastered to the floor and hands clasped in front of him. Something was off with him.

“We’ve tried.” Aleksandr’s mouth set into a firm line. “He doesn’t respond.”

The panic got worse, almost taking my breath away. Arturo’s other hand landed on my other shoulder, and he slowly started to massage my skin.

“Breathe,kotenok. It’s okay,” he whispered in my ear.

I took solace in his words, his presence calming me.

“We know he’s alive.” Nikolai reached for his laptop, sitting on the coffee table between us, and turned it to face me. It showed a camera feed from inside Father’s office. He sat in front of the fireplace, countless bottles of alcohol on the floor around him. The angle didn’t give a shot of his face, just the back of his head.

My eyes flicked to my brother. “You put acamerain his office?” I asked incredulously. “Are youinsane? Do you have a fucking death wish? Does he know? What am I talking about? Of course he doesn’t know. If he did, you’d already be dead.”

“The logistics are unimportant,” Nikolai grunted. “The point is, we can see he’s alive.”

“So, what was your plan, then?” I asked, my gaze moving between all three of them. “Just let him sit in there and drink himself to death?”

“No,” Aleksandr responded with offense.

I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”

“I’m thinking,” he snapped back.

“Oh, great, as long as you’re thinking,” I snarked.

He narrowed his eyes. “If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.”

“Great.” I got to my feet and looked at Lukyan. “Get me an axe from the armoury.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Aleksandr protested as Lukyan got up and disappeared from the room. “What’s your plan? You’re going to smash his office door down?”

“Yes.” I took off my floor-length black coat, letting the fabric slip from my shoulders, and deposited it on the couch. Tying my hair up into a tight bun, I rotated my body, twisting it this way and that way to warm up. Lukyan returned a moment later, and I took the axe from his hands.

Aleksandr held up his palms. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.” I tested the weight of the axe in my hands. “You should have called me days ago. This has gone on long enough. If he won’t come out of that room, I’m going in.”

“That is a bad idea.” Aleksandr looked at Nikolai. “Back me up here.”

“Sorry, I agree with Illayana.” He folded his arms across his chest. “This can’t continue. Especially after what Autumn said about Grandfather.”

I frowned. “What did she say?”

Aleksandr hesitated.

Irritation flowed through my body. “I’ve got a weapon in my hands, Aleksandr,” I warned.

He rolled his eyes, not the least bit intimidated. “Look, I haven’t been able to corroborate what she’s claimed.”

“But whatever it is, you believe it.” I could see it on his face. “What is it?”

Lukyan was the one to answer. “She said Grandfather hired her to kill Father.”

My stomach dropped. “What?” I breathed. “No. That-that can’t be right. Grandfather’s sadistic, but he wouldn’t orchestrate the death of his own son.” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew they weren’t true. It was just what I wanted to believe.

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