Page 69 of Vasily the Nail

“I’m thinking that you’re playing chess and Ana is your pawn.”

“She could be yours forever, you know. Tony might have weakened his family, but he has powerful allies. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for us to get in bed with the Italians. If nothing else, I’m sure they’re not the ones who have been shaking us—”

“Ana isn’t a pawn.”

“Would it really be so bad making her a permanent part of your life?”

“She doesn’t deserve this life. Chaining her to me would chain her to my own shackles,” I murmur as I take a sip of the sake that’s been poured for me. It’s sweeter, slightly fruity, not my preferred alcohol, but the conversation has me wondering if Ana would like it here. The one opportunity she got to choose a restaurant, she picked that fussy, kitschy tea house. I bet she’d enjoy the show the chefs put on.

I can already imagine her laughing as she attempts to catch the vegetables as they’re tossed to her. She’d probably love it.

And then she’d demand an electric skillet for the apartment and master hibachi cooking by the next day.

“You know I can tell when you’re thinking of her.”

I set my ceramic cup down and lean back in my seat. “It doesn’t matter. This is not the life for her.”

Artyom leans back to match me. His arm goes back across my chair, and I catch the flash of a new ring on his hand. His wedding band.

What a strange couple of weeks it’s been. Have I even congratulated him?

Even stranger, he grabs onto my shoulder and pulls me against him in a brusque but affectionate hug. “You worry me, brother. You know that? Every day, I worry about you. I was so worried you’d make a scene in Vegas that I didn’t bring you to my wedding, and then I still worried so much because of the shit timing with Tony and Analiese that I worried about you through the whole wedding, even before I got that video. And then I watched your whole goddamn porn because I wasn’t sure if it was going to end up a snuff film, and I didn’t know which one of you was gonna survive — if either of you did.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, feeling like an ass now. It’s shitty that he didn’t invite me to his wedding, but he shouldn’t have had to worry about me on his wedding night.

Artyom shakes his head and tightens that arm even more, forcing me to turn to him and look him in the eye. “I worry every time Kostya calls that he’s just found you dead on the floor in your apartment. When Dima calls, too. When Hector’s lady called to say you were there to buy junk, it was a relief. I knewthen, you know? I thought we finally hit that point where I could force you back into rehab, and then you’d have to come home.”

“You’d make me a prisoner in your house?”

“I love you, brother. And ever since papa and Brooke died, it’s like that bomb took you out too. It’s just this agonizingly slow death. When you took Ana, it was a death rattle. I thought I couldn’t do this anymore. You either needed to be caged or put down.”

I lean back, nowhere to go except his arm as I scrub my face and groan a low, slow, “Fuuuuuuuck, Artyom. I’m not a fucking dog.”

That has him grabbing me by both shoulders. He leans close. So close that my eyes bounce between his, the clear mirrors of what I could have been if I’d been stronger, if I’d been able to keep my shit together when I lost everyone. “You think I don’t know that? You think I would have let you go for as long as I did? I have a fucking ulcer because of you. I just wanted you to find some happiness, brother. And yes, I was fucking scared of what Ana would do to you. What shedidto you, whatever drove you to Hector’s. But then I saw you two together, first at the hospital and then at the church. Your little show last night. It will kill you to send her back to her brother.”

I force my eyes away from his. If I tell him I’ll be fine, he’ll know I’m lying. I can’t promise I’ll stay clean; I’ve lied on that account far too many times. If I tell him that he’s not the only who thinks I’ve been terminal for the last six years and just taking my sweet time throwing the other foot in the grave, he’ll be pissed and demand I move in with him.

If I tell him I’m the cancer and his house is the chemo that has no hope of saving me, only prolonging the inevitable and ruining what little good there is in those final years, he’ll accuse me of being maudlin and probably punch me for it. I’ll deserve it.

The only thing I can say is, “She’s not a tool. She does not exist at my whim. “

“She doesn’t exist at Tony’s whim either,” Artyom huffs as he backs off marginally to slug back his sake. “Looked to me last night that she’d rather be here.”

“Then she needs to decide that for herself. But she won’t be free to make that decision until Tony lets her go.”

Artyom shakes his head. “You are in this family for life. You know this, right?”

I frown, not sure what that has to do with anything. Of course I know that. Fuck, papa was so proud when I got my brand I thought he’d shit a kitten. Yeah, I planned to leave Flagstaff as soon as I could, but no matter where I lived or what I did, it was going to be in service of the Bratva. And as fucked as everything has gotten, I’ve never once said I was going to defect.

Not that anyone says that. That’s how you get your ass murdered by the men you’ve sworn your life to. But I’ve never considered it. Thisismy life.

“You made that pledge, and it is unbreakable.”

I nod in agreement, my eyes darting around the room to see who all is here. This feels weirdly performative. It’s just us and the restaurant staff, not even Kostya.

But there are cameras.

But that still doesn’t explain the speech.

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