Page 78 of Bratva Queen

After half an hour of driving—Dom had to make sure we’d crossed the hill and was out of sight from the binoculars of the tower guards—the truck stopped.

“Yes!” Randa shouted with his arms in the air when he climbed out the back.

“Shut the fuck up, noise travels in these hills!” Dom hissed. “And it’s not the guards I’m worried about.”

“Oh, right,” Randa answered and looked around the darkness surrounding us. Dom was talking about bears.

I climbed out and stretched my limbs. Still, I didn’t smile. While I was relieved that I was finally free, I had no idea what I would find in Saint Petersburg. Would Isabel welcome me into her arms? Or would she have moved on by now? Would Maxim want to know me as his father, or have nothing to do with me at all?

I knew that Stepan was dead and Misha was running the Koslov bratva as a man now. I wasn’t worried about them. Gregori had been an idiot to come and boast about everything every year or so, because now I had intel. I just hadn’t seen him in many months, things might have changed already. If I couldn’t find Isabel or Gregori, my next move would be to get to Moscow and let Misha in on all the little secrets Gregori held.

“Buckle in, boys. We have a long ride ahead of us,” Dom said.

With extra canisters of gas in the back for the long drive through the wilderness and nothing but our clothes to keep us warm, the three of us sat in silence shoulder to shoulder, hearing only the rumble of the engine and crunching of rocks, snow and sticks under the tires.

Seven hours later, the sun was up and we arrived in a small town far north of Saint Petersburg. This was where we would part. Randa would steal a car, Dom would take the bus, and I was to take the train. This way we were scattered and one wouldn’t lead the police to another.

Dom provided us with as much cash as he had—to be paid back by me as soon as possible—so we could change clothes, buy food and pay for travel.

I bought cargo pants, a hoodie, and a parka. At a gas station bathroom, I washed myself and stared into the mirror. I was in my fifties, there were not only age-lines around my eyes and mouth, but scars across my face. My skin was pale, and there were dark circles under my eyes. My hair was still short in a buzzcut, but it would grow back gray at the sides.

The train ride to Saint Petersburg was another six hours. I used the opportunity to get some sleep. I felt safe enough knowing that no one was looking for me. Unless, of course, the prison ward was angry about losing out on his monthly payment from Gregori, but he wasn’t so stupid as to make his acceptance of bribes a national issue. The truth was, I felt safer than I ever had.

Stepan didn’t own me anymore. None of the bratva did. I wasn’t being tormented and tortured by prison guards. And Gregori—he had no idea what was coming for him.

In the city, I walked to Gregori’s house from the train station and knocked loudly. With my fists clenched I waited, but a maid opened the door.

“Is Gregori Chernoff home?”

“No, sir… He hasn’t been for a few weeks now.”

Interesting… “What about Bella?”

“Oh, Miss Isabel Chernoff?”

My muscles tensed and my teeth gritted together. I asked, “Is she his wife?”

The maid almost laughed, shyly covering her mouth. “No, no. His sister-in-law. She used to live here but she moved out with her son a few years ago.”

I smiled slightly. So, not only had she shaken her fake name after Stepan died, but she’d taken on my name. It gave me hope. “Do you have an address for me?”

* * *

I approached her house,a beautiful, though modest townhouse. It was just like her, to use her money to keep herself comfortable and happy, but not excessively so. Clenching my teeth, I rang the doorbell. I heard heavy footsteps, and stepped back with a deep breath. When the door opened, it was a man. But not just any man. It was Lev.

His face changed from shock, to confusion, to complete, utter happiness. “Aleksei?”

He stepped out and grabbed me in a strong hug, he wasn’t a young man anymore either. I chuckled, holding him with a tight squeeze. “You’ve been working for Isabel?” I asked.

“For many years now,” he said, smiling as he held my shoulders. “How are you here? Where have you been? You look a little rough my friend.” He grinned, and I patted his shoulder.

“We’ll get to that.” Before I could ask, I heard her voice.

“Lev? Who is it?”

He stepped back inside with a smile and backed away, giving us space. Isabel appeared in the doorway and slowly, her mouth dropped open.

“Alek… Aleksei? Is it really you?” She asked.

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