Page 37 of Sold to the Bratva
I’m searching for a polite way to leave when my father says, “I’m proud of you,lapushka.”
The words hit harder than I expect, and I hate the way they make me feel. Why does his approval still matter? He hasn’t done anything to earn mine.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice tight.
Then he keeps me there for several more minutes of inane small talk. I tell him about Maude and her excellent cooking and he tells me about the less important aspects of his business, things I couldn’t care less about. We discuss a painting in his office that he’d like replaced, and I promise to start something he can hang.
It’s stilted and awkward, another piece of my old life that no longer fits. I tell him I really do need to get back to my house now, and he suddenly gets sentimental.
“I knew you would hit it off with Isaac,” my father says, his voice warm and sure, the way it always is when he believes he’s right. “You’re doing the family a great deal of service.”
I offer a polite smile and lower myself back into the armchair across from him, careful not to let my thoughts show. I just want to go, but he’s clearly holding on to something he needs to say, so I let him get it out.
He leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes assessing me over the rim of his mug. “You’ve always had good instincts,” he adds. “And I trust them.”
I nod once. “Thank you.”
He takes a slow sip, then sets the mug down. “Tell me, does Isaac talk to you about business at all? Have you heard anything about the Kozlov Bratva’s dealings lately?”
My stomach flips, the question making me even more uncomfortable. I don’t know why, exactly. He and Isaac both know I don’t care much about the business. I don’t know things and I don’twantto know.
But I remember my conversation with Papa the day after the wedding. Isaac’s business is his business now. Papa needs to know if anything’s brewing so he can keep Isaac and me safe. I hesitate only a second before answering.
“This morning I overheard Isaac talking to Mikhail outside our bedroom,” I say finally, recalling a conversation that was never meant for me.
His eyes sharpen, but he says nothing. He just gestures for me to continue.
“They were talking about a shipment. Something was infiltrated. I don’t know the details, only that they’re worried another group is after them. They’re adding extra security, but I didn’t hear what kind.”
Papa nods, as if I’ve confirmed something he already suspected. “That’s good to know,” he says carefully. “So we can be on the lookout. I’ve got to keep my son-in-law’s interests safe.”
“You’re not planning anything, are you?”
He lifts his gaze to mine and I don’t like what I see in it. “Of course not,lapushka.It’s like I told you before. Now that the families are joined, the Kozlovs’ safety is directly tied to yours. If someone’s making moves against them, it’s only a matter of time before it reaches you too. I can’t have that.”
My fingers tighten around the strap of my tote bag, and a sudden urge to bolt takes hold. I don’t know why, exactly. I just know that all this business talk makes me anxious.
He reaches across the desk and squeezes my hand. “You’re my daughter. I’ll always look out for you.”
I force a smile. “I really should get going,” I say, standing slowly. “Isaac will wonder where I disappeared to.”
Papa nods. “Of course. Give him my regards.”
“I will.”
I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes my hand again before I turn toward the door.
As I walk down the hall, past the columns and the hallway table with the bowl of candied almonds that hasn’t moved in a decade, I hear his voice.
I pause at the corner, half-shielded by the wall.
“Get Oleg on the phone,” he says into the receiver. “We may have something.”
I swallow hard and keep walking.
15
KATYA
