Page 57 of Married to the Don (Kornilov Bratva Duet 1)

“And did they all deserve it?”

His jaw works from side to side. “I think so.”

A flicker of fear I haven’t felt since the first night Viktor and I met sparks to life inside of me. “What about the man Fedor killed? Would you have killed him too?”

His jaw works so hard I’m sure his teeth must be ground to dust. “Fedor grew up in my shadow. Our parents didn’t care about him, and he didn’t have a role in the Bratva. Or the family. It made him … reckless. He lashes out and sometimes … there are consequences.”

“Deadly ones.” Will he lash out at me or Theo when he finds out? He already wanted me dead and that was when he was thinking coolly, logically. I have to assume he’ll be even more murderous when his anger spikes because I’m still alive and Theo has been kept from him for four years.

Viktor growls, a low sound deep in his throat. “You don’t understand him. I know you have a … history with him, but—”

“Why are you defending him?” I don’t mean the question to be accusatory, but it comes out that way, and I don’t try to correct it. “You acted as though you were disgusted by what he did to me, but now you’re trying to minimize it. Trying to minimize all his crimes. I thought—”

“That’s the problem,” he says, cutting me off. “You think you understand me, but you barely know me. Or my brother. You’ve seen one side of him.”

“When someone shows you they’re partly evil, the other sides don’t matter.”

“He isn’t evil,” Viktor says, jumping to his feet. He fists his hands at his side, flexing them like he wishes he could punch something. “Like you said, I’ve killed people too. Am I evil?”

I don’t know if the question is meant to be rhetorical or not, but regardless, I don’t have an answer. I’ve spent many nights since coming to live with Viktor wondering how I can reconcile the seemingly two different sides of him—the man who makes love to me and buys toys for my son, and the man who commands an army and kills his enemies.

“I can’t turn my brother away without being a hypocrite,” he says. “Plus he’s my brother. He’s blood.”

“That doesn’t mean you excuse his behavior.”

Suddenly, Viktor rounds the corner of his desk. His blue eyes are sharp, piercing, and I swallow back my nervousness. “What would you do if Theo was ever accused of something like this?”

The thought makes me sick. Theo is a child. My baby boy. He is innocent and sweet and … part Fedor. I’d be foolish not to consider the possibility that I will one day have to deal with that side of him. That I will have to counteract his Fedor-like tendencies.

“He’s just a kid,” I say.

“So was Fedor. When I took care of him,” Viktor says. “He wasn’t always the monster you know. He was an innocent little kid who needed someone to guide him and help him, and I took on the task. I can’t abandon him now.”

My heart breaks. Not for Fedor, but for Viktor. For the pressure he has been put under, trying to maintain the Bratva while also take care of his brother. I never saw it before, but now I see the strain in him, the exhaustion. He has been taking care of Fedor since they were kids, and he doesn’t know how to stop.

Viktor runs a hand through his hair. The dark strands are standing up in every direction like he has done that a lot today. He lets out a sigh, and it’s the most vulnerability I’ve ever seen from him. His neutral mask is gone, and finally, I feel like I’m getting a peek beneath the surface. A glimpse into what it’s like being inside Viktor’s world.

“I will always care for Theo,” I start. “No matter what. No matter what he does or what happens between us. But I won’t condone him hurting innocent people.”

Like me. At eighteen, I was innocent and naïve and excited about a future that I had no idea would be stripped away from me. Stolen by Fedor.

“If Theo did something like Fedor has done, I wouldn’t sweep it under the rug. I would force him to suffer the consequences of his actions. It’s the only way he would learn his lesson.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Sweeping it under the rug?” Viktor asks.

This question is not rhetorical. I know he wants an answer, but I’m afraid to say anything. I’m afraid to say the truth.

Yes.

“I could have paid off a judge,” he says. “Months ago. I could have paid someone to track down the witness and kill him before he could take the stand. People think the justice system is more powerful than money and power, but people are wrong. I could have had Fedor freed … but I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

He leans back on the edge of his desk, his shoulders slumped forward, and I can see the weight of everything he has carried pressing down on him. Cast him in marble and he would make a lovely, somber statue.

“I think it’s better if Fedor is behind bars,” he admits softly. “For his safety, not to mention the safety of others. He has problems that I’m not sure how to solve. So, I didn’t try to get him out, but now he is, and all I can do is make the best of it.”

He has a point. He didn’t know Fedor was being released. He didn’t do anything to pursue that path aside from hunting me down, but considering he didn’t follow through with the plan to murder me, I suppose I can’t hold that against him. Unless …

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