Page 29 of Den of Thieves

“I am sixty-eight. I had Mikhail at eighteen. Who had Vladimir at eighteen. Now that my grandson is in his thirties, I must once again protect the next generation of Kovalyovs.”

Karina raised her eyebrow as a man with a dark suit rushed into the room. Gustaf waved him closer, and the man placed a stack of papers on the coffee table between them.

“We will start with some documentation that I hope you never have to use. This is my lawyer, Sergei Kuzyayev.”

Sergei was a hardened man with dark eyes and even darker hair. He had an aura about him that seemed more dangerous than powerful. Even with her skillet and the might of the Bratva behind her, she didn’t want to meet him alone in a back alley.

Sergei opened the top folder and handed Karina a pen.

“What is this? I’ve never been good with legal jargon.” She mumbled, scanning the papers written entirely in Cyrillic.

“It is just a precaution. A last resort in case anything happens to me or Vladimir in the coming months. You and the children will be taken care of.”

She pursed her lips but signed where he pointed. The top of one of the pages caught her eye.

“Final bequest? Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

“No, no child. Quite the opposite, but I am not going to live forever.”

That didn’t erase her frown, but she nodded and continued to sign where Sergei pointed.

“That being said, the road ahead is dark, but there will be light again.”

“That sounds oddly optimistic coming from you.”

“I would like to take the children out of the country, to a tropical safe house until the war is over.”

“Gustaf!” Karina reared back as if he was about to strike her.

“I will not take no for an answer. I have fought many wars. Right now, people are waiting around for someone bold or stupid enough to make the first move. I will not allow my grandchildren to be pawns in someone else’s plan.”

Karina stood up and placed her wineglass on the bar. She picked out a tumbler and filled a fresh glass with two fingers of Vladimir’s favorite vodka, Spryinka. Tossing it back, she winced as the vodka burned on its way down her throat before pouring another.

“It is for the best,” Gustaf argued.

“You don’t think I know that?!” she yelled with tears in her eyes. “You’re talking about taking my babies away and I’m supposed to just happily hand them over like they’re not my heart and soul.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as more tears threatened to flow.

Karina was prepared to send them away in the fall. To a safe school that protected them from harm and the evil that surrounded the world. She foolishly thought that she would have time to come to terms with not seeing their smiling faces or hearing their little feet run up and down the halls. This was too much too soon and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it.

“I will take care of them like they are my own. I will hire the best tutors and bring their nannies, granted they pass the background checks and agree to the rules.”

Karina wanted to ask more questions about these so-called rules, but there was only one answer she wanted right then.

“How soon?”

**

Vladimir checked his phone as he made his way to the limo waiting outside his office. He nodded n appreciation at the blacked-out SUVs waiting in front and behind the car. Finally, Solynchnka, was taking his security concerns seriously. He slid inside, reigning in his surprise to see his children spread out along the bench seat.

“Papa!” they squealed, wiggling in their car seats to get to him.

“Hello, puffin.” He kissed Anastasia’s cheek first because she was the closest. “My boys!” He leaned over and kissed them as well.

He noticed Karina facing away from him wearing oversized glasses. She looked out the window, not acknowledging his presence. Vladimir opened mouth to ask what was wrong and closed it when he saw Gustaf at the end of the limo.

A thousand words passed between them with one look. Vladimir took a deep breath and nodded. It was only a matter of time. The old king was only around to offer sound advice, that and be a great grandfather to the next generation of Bratva Elite.

The children chattered about, not understanding the gravity of the situation on the way to the airport. They were excited to spend time with Gustaf. Their grandfather spared no expense when it came to their comfort and safety. Somehow, he was more protective of his great grandchildren than he was of Vladimir and Aksana when they were under his care.

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