Page 71 of Bratva Butcher

Aleksandr snarled, glaring daggers at his younger brother. “Lukyan fucked someone in your office!”

My office? No, not my office. That little—

Lukyan spluttered, his gaze whipping around the room. “Nikolai broke that coffee table three years ago!”

The coffee table they all denied smashing?

“Hey!” Nikolai yelled.

Lukyan covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else for Aleksandr.”

“So you threw me under the bus?! You dick.”

They all began to yell at each other.Again. I sighed. They switched between English and Russian, pointing and gesturing with aggression.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Soft laughter came from behind me, and I turned to glare at the culprit. Autumn sat cross-legged on her cot, picking at what was left of her breakfast that had arrived an hour or so ago.

“Not one word,” I warned.

She zipped her lips shut and pretended to throw away the key.

Funny.

I put two fingers in my mouth and blew a loud, ear-piercing whistle. All three of them shut up. I ignored all the bullshitsecrets they’d blabbed about and focused on the only one that mattered.

“Aleksandr.” He turned to face me, expression guarded. “You got married?” The hurt cut deep. My firstborn child had gotten married, and he didn’t even want to tell me?

Was I more like my father than I thought?

“Who?” I asked. “That cartel woman?”

“Drea, and I don’t want to hear any bullshit about how it’s too quick and I barely know her. She’s strong and fierce and utterly loyal. Her soul is like the sun. Beautiful and bright. She’s magnificent, and there’s nothing you can do or say to make me give her up—”

“Aleksandr,” I said softly, interrupting him. “Does she make you happy?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

I nodded. “Then that’s all I need to know.”

He blinked, surprised. Did he really think so little of me? All I cared about was if my children were happy.

If wedidmake it out of there alive, I would need to find a new place to live. A married couple needed their privacy. The family house would have gone to him eventually, anyway, might as well do it now.

I blew out a tired breath, running a hand through my hair. “Fill me in on everything else I’ve missed while I’ve been gone.Everything.”

And they did. Aleksandr told me all about the aftermath of the attack Dominik launched. The one that led to my incarceration. How many men we lost. The damages caused to the house. Dayton.

I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t really like the kid much, if I was being honest, but he should have been safe in my home.

Instead, he’d died.

Poor Mikhail. He was my oldest friend. He sent his son to me to be trained, and he’d returned in a body bag.

Jesus. How did everything get so fucked up?

Nikolai spoke next, telling me about his trip to New York to canvas for new clients—an order given to him by Aleksandr, the newPakhanin my absence. It had come as quite a surprise to me. It was Valentino’s territory. Even after hearing about what happened to him—that he’d been caught by the police—I still might not have done the same, perfectly content to keep things as they were.

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