Page 55 of Bound to a Monster

“The day before he ran off?”

“That sounds right.”

He takes a deep breath and schools himself. It’s taking all my self-control not to start laughing. Honestly, he’s got this serious fucking glare on his face. Alex can be such a hard-ass sometimes.

“What did you do?” he asks.

I tell him everything. It’s not like I was keeping this from him on purpose. It just hadn’t come up yet. When I finish, his eyes are closed and he’s taking deep, calming breaths.

“He crossed the line,” I say, making it very clear that I am not remotely apologetic about what happened.

“I get that, and he deserved to get knocked out. But it doesn’t sound like you stopped there.”

My jaw works. “You didn’t see it. The way he was looking at her right in front of me.”

“I hear you, and like I said, he probably deserved what he got. But, Lev, the word is someone really fucked him up.”

“If Carmie hadn’t stopped me, he’d be dead, and I wouldn’t have felt bad.”

Alex nods grimly. “That’s what I thought.”

“He’s going to do the right thing. Emory’s not stupid. He knows I won’t ever stop if I think he’s going back on his word.”

“You can’t go around threatening and beating people into submission. That isn’t how this business works.”

I spread my hands. “We’re a bunch of fucking criminals and thieves, Alex. How the fuck do youthinkshit gets done?”

He rubs his face with his palm. “I don’t know, but it’s not that.”

“Emory hit on my wife right in front of me. He was practically drooling on her. I held back for as long as I could and he still didn’t stop. I don’t regret it. I won’t apologize for it.”

“He’s going to talk. You know that, right? Sooner or later, he’ll start to think he’s safe, and he’s not the kind of guy that can keep his fucking mouth shut. Word will travel.”

I go back to finishing up the watch I was working on. “Let it travel then.”

“We’re trying to do this the right way. That was the deal, right? That’s the only reason I’m in this with you.”

I don’t look at him. “That’s the only one?” I ask, very softly.

He doesn’t reply. I know what he’s thinking. Alex respects my father—almost reveres him, honestly, and it’s kind of pathetic—but he knows what kind of man my father really is. He knows how Oleg treated me when we were growing up. My father was smart and kept it as hidden as he could, but there were leaks. There were tells: bruises, unexplained broken bones, days when I could barely get out of bed.

Everyone knew. Nobody did shit about it.

Not that I expected Alex or Step to get involved. So long as Dad was focused on me, he wasn’t bothering with them.

It worked. They thrived. Then Step got himself killed and Alex started to lift his head up from his little obsession with being a perfect soldier, and now he’s starting to see the truth about things.

My father’s not a good leader. He never fucking was. For some reason, Valentin Zeitsev’s put trust in him, but that’ll only end with misery.

The door to the front opens and Dasha sticks her head back. “Boys, Oleg’s out front,” she says, frowning at us. “Wants to see you two.”

I glance at Alex. He’s not looking at me. “Speak of the devil,” I say, and we head out together.

Oleg Federov has looked better. He’s wearing a new Rolex, shiny and sparkling and expensive as hell, plus a fancy gold chain. The Bratva’s been good to him lately. But there are bags under his eyes and his gut’s heavier than it’s ever been, and I haven’t seen my father walk more than ten steps without getting winded in a while now.

His town car’s double parked in the street and his guards lurk nearby. A couple of young Russian boys that would do anything for him since he pays them a ludicrous amount of money.

“I have a task for you two,” he says without preamble like we’re his employees. And in some ways, we are. He’s the head of the family. But that isn’t how things are supposed to work.

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