Page 21 of Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet 2)

Viktor

Icall Petr again and let it ring five times before the automated voice clicks on to tell me the recipient of my call can’t make it to the phone and his voice mail is full.

I know. I’m the one who filled it.

We are supposed to meet this morning to talk about consolidating the business. The renovation to the motels is costing more than we expected, and I’m not confident we’ll make back the money we are spending fast enough for it to matter. Besides, we are operating with fewer men now that Fedor took half of them, so fewer moving parts mean fewer things to guard. It might make more sense to sell off a few nonessential motels that we aren’t currently using for stash houses, consolidate our men, and use the money from the sale to cover losses. I planned to talk it over with Petr. Except, he hasn’t shown up.

Petr has never been late to a meeting before. He has shown up half drunk and in pajama bottoms before, but he has never been late.

All I can think is that he is dead. Somehow, Fedor got to him and he has been killed.

I call anyone who might have an idea where Petr is and ask everyone at the office, but no one has seen him all morning.

Shit, shit, shit.

I call him again and again for almost an hour, growing more frantic with every unanswered call.

Then, just when I’ve decided to get up and go search the city for him myself, he answers.

“Hello,” he says, out of breath.

I let out a relieved breath, and then my relief instantly shifts to fury. “Where have you fucking been all fucking morning?” I growl.

I can practically see Petr wince through the phone. “I was tied up. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Unless you were actually tied up, you should have been able to answer your phone. We had a meeting this morning. Or, we were supposed to. Where were you?” I press.

There is a moment of hesitation, a beat of silence too long to miss. Then, he answers. “My mom is sick, and I don’t have cell signal in her apartment. It’s a dead spot for some reason. I’m sorry.”

“Aunt Vera?” I ask. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Petr and I have a working relationship, but he is still my family. I’m his boss, but I like to think I’m not a monster.

“I don’t know,” Petr sighs. “I didn’t want you to think my attentions were divided. I thought I could handle it all without telling anyone. I’m sorry.”

I’m still frustrated, but it feels wrong to yell at him about this.

“Just get your ass to the meeting,” I command. “That will show me your attentions aren’t divided.”

* * *

Petr agreeswith my plan to drop a few of our fronts to consolidate, and even though it was my plan, I’m disappointed.

I built those businesses myself. I put them in place and kept them running. They made us money and operated as stash houses for our less legal dealings. Even though I didn’t go around bragging about them, I was proud of what I’d built. And now, because of my own brother, I have to give some of them up to protect what I have left.

It is necessary, but the meeting leaves me feeling restless. I have too much energy to just go home. I need to go out.

Before Molly, that would mean stopping off at the club, tossing back a few drinks, and then dragging one of the willing club girls back to my bed. I’d fuck her until exhaustion and then kick her out to find her own way home.

Now, I just want Molly.

I’ve been trying to keep my distance from her. Not only to give her time to adjust to this new element in our relationship, but also because I need to keep my sights focused on Fedor as much as possible. I need to stay cold so I can react and make decisions as necessary, and being with Molly gets me anything but cold.

I’m calling her before I even realize what I’m doing. She sounds hesitant when she answers.

“Hello?”

“Do you want to go out with me?” Again, I’m operating on autopilot. The question blurts out of me before I can find a more eloquent way to phrase it. “Like, to lunch?”

---