Page 116 of Unforgiving Saint (Starukhin Bratva)

My heart freezes as I take a breath. The implication is clear. If I say no, then I will have forsaken Eden and my child, but if I sayyes, then I admit that I went against the oath. My head spins as I search for the right answer, but I have to tell the truth.

“Yes.”

Barinov stares hard, and his thoughts are hidden behind an indifferent mask. Did I say what he wanted to hear? He remains inscrutable. Is he an ally or an adversary? The uncertainty gnaws at me, but I refuse to let it show. Instead, I straighten my back as the men at the far end of the table talk among themselves.

“Whatever happens,” I look at Eden, “I will always love you.”

Her eyes shine as she looks at me. “I’ll always love you too.”

Minutes pass like hours, and then Sorokin rises from his chair. The gleam in his eye tells me our fates before he’s even opened his mouth. He lifts the gavel and bangs it once on the table, but when he opens his mouth to speak, Zakhar interrupts him.

“Gentleman, I have to speak, or I will regret not doing so. After I am done, I willingly accept my fate. I stand before you today, reminded of how violence forever took from me the woman I loved. A woman who could have been saved had we all chosen a different path.

“Decades ago, the Starukhin and the Lanzzare could have brokered a truce through my marriage to Aria Genovesi. That truce could have prevented bloodshed and heartache. Spared the lives of good men who had made important contributions to both sides. Instead, we squabbled over property and profits, none of which can ever equal the cost of one life.

“Yes, Aria Genovesi was a Lanzzare, but she married into the Bratva, bore my child, and gave her unwavering loyalty to us. Her only sin was to protect me from the men I thought were myown brothers. The same ones who swore to love nothing but the Bratva in one breath but strove to tear it apart in another. Eden reminds me of her, determined to protect the ones she loves by creating a better world for her child.

“And yet, here we are, poised to repeat the same mistakes. To force another innocent woman into a life of violence and pain. To rip her happiness away. My daughter deserves happiness, just as my wife did,” Zakhar glares at Sorokin. “Love triumphs over all, and I remind you, Radomil Ivanovich, that you once gave in to the power of love as well.”

The room is silent as Zakhar reveals the pain he has felt for decades while hiding himself and Eden away. He sits down heavily, and I place a hand on his shoulder, understanding his desperation for his daughter and accepting the honor of his blessing.

Sorokin slams the gavel down again and says, “I’m glad to know that you will willingly accept your fate, Zakhar Sergeyevich.” He looks at Eden and me, his lip set in a scowl. But then Sorokin glances away and hesitates, almost as if he regrets what he has to say. “The oath has been broken, and our original judgment stands …”

Eden stiffens and reaches for my hand. “No,” she whispers, “I can’t lose everything I love. I won’t.” She looks at me, her eyes wide and desperate for reassurance. “Nikolai … no.”

Behind us the doors burst open, and Zhanna strides in, flanked by several women of the Bratva. Paige Barinov, Natasha Chuikov, Sonia Karamazov, and my own sister, Larissa. The men fall silent as the women make their way toward the table.

Sorokin slams the gavel, sending a sharp crack that echoes in the room. “Zhanna Nikolaeva, you don’t belong here. None of you do. Only pakhans during a hearing.” He gestures to the guards. “Take them out of the room.”

“Dima, what the fuck is this shit?” Natasha gestures at her husband. “Am I not a pakhan equal to you? Is that not what you swore to me onourwedding day?”

Dmitri Chuikov twists his head, nodding. And I can’t help but notice the shadow of a smirk on Andrei Barinov’s face.

Zhanna raises her voice over the racket. “Eden Zakharovna and Nikolai Gennadyevich deserve happiness together and with their child.” She stares down each man in turn. “It’s time to put an end to this cycle of violence and welcome life into this world.” She lifts her chin.

Sorokin’s face flushes, but his voice has lost strength. “Zhanna Nikolaeva, your counsel has been useful in the past, but it is best if you allow the men to handle this.”

Zhanna scoffs and taps her cane against a chair, then glares at a guard, who hurries to pull it out for her.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Zhanna asks. “You’ve become so obsessed with power and destruction that you’ve lost sight of what matters to the Bratva.” She points to Eden. “Look at this young woman, pregnant and standing before you with courage,” she continues. “Do you not see the life growing inside her? This child will have accomplished more by simply existing than the ocean of blood you have spilled in your wars.”

The change in the atmosphere is as if her words have shattered an invisible barricade. And I recall Eden standing in front of Delacroix’sLiberty Leading the Peopleat the Met—chin heldhigh as she strides forward, determined to escort change into our dismal, antiquated world.

“Dima, I swear to fucking God,” Natasha steps forward, staring down the guards, “you keep this up, andwe’regoing to have problems. Don’t forget, you’re still a shit shot.”

Zhanna jumps back in. “We demand that you honor life. And it starts with family.”

“Let them be together,” Paige Barinov demands. She walks over to Andrei, and he takes her hand when she places it on his shoulder. “Outsiders bring new blood. You know as well as I do how important that is.”

The room remains silent for a moment. I glance at Popov, who clears his throat.

“Zhanna is right,” Popov admits, “what choice was there for Nikolai Gennadyevich? If we had gotten involved in the feud, we would’ve had a full-blown war on our hands. Now, the traitors are gone, and we have a lasting truce. What more could any of us ask for?”

Dmitri hesitates but then nods slowly in agreement, never taking his eyes off Natasha. “Da. It’s pointless to keep resisting this.” He smiles when Natasha walks over to him and pats him on the back. “And my darling wifeisa better shot than me.”

My heart pounds as I watch the men change their minds one by one. It seems almost too good to be true. But Sorokin’s face remains hard. Finally, he looks directly into my eyes.

“A wise man knows when he is defeated.” He sighs. “You have our blessing this time, Nikolai Gennadyevich.”

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