I nod slowly, silently… because she’s not wrong. And yet somehow, I haven’t thought about that.
Of course I’ve been obsessed with keeping Leo safe from the next threat, the next person who might come looking to hurt Maksim in the most devastating way possible. I just never stopped to consider that even with us being far away from the Antonov Bratva, completely cut off from them and living our own independent lives, it would never save us from being snatched up again.
“Wouldn’t it be better to be under Maksim’s protection when his enemies come sniffing around again than to be here alone without it?” she asks.
I know she’s right, but I also know what it cost us the last time. I don’t know if I can survive putting Leo through that again. I don’t know ifhecan.
Is it worth the risk and taking our chances by staying here with my family? That if we kept our heads down enough, no one would come looking for us? Or am I setting Leo and me up for failure again, and perhaps next time, we won’t be lucky enough to survive?
Lettie sits up and leans over to put a hand on my arm. “Just… think about it, okay?”
I nod.
She doesn’t say anything else before getting up and leaving me to contemplate alone in my room.
God… now what do I do?
23
MAKSIM
Since the day I stepped foot back in Moscow, I’ve been in a daze.
I knew rebuilding the Bratva would be a pain in the ass the first time after finally crushing Anton’s coup. Our ranks had been fractured, brigadiers scattered, loyalties frayed thin. Men who once cowed to my name like it was law had been left to mutter in the shadows, counting the cost of their allegiance now that they were ostracized or thrown back to the bottom of the totem pole.
I expected it. Hell, I planned for it.
What I didn’t plan for was the gnawing emptiness that clings to me like a second sin.
Ivy.
It’salwaysIvy.
Every time I close my eyes, I see her face, twisted with regret, and hear her voice telling me she no longer wanted a life with me.
I could fight armies.
I could outlast coups.
But I can’t fight the echo of the woman I love telling me she wishes she hadn’t.
So, yes, my head isn’t in the game. Some mornings, I wake up like my body is chained to the mattress. Some nights, I walk the halls of my family’s estate until dawn’s light tires my eyes. I’m haunted, imagining Leo’s cries when Mikhail pressed the barrel of that gun to his head, and the aftermath it brought me
My inner circle notices my absent mind, Lev most of all. He watches me quietly, the silent questions staring me down that I have no answers to give. Roman is quieter than usual, giving me more space than he ever has after our last talk. Even Katya with her bloodthirsty, sharp tongue bites her remarks down before they can reach me.
They’re wise to keep their mouths shut.
But not everyone shares that same wisdom.
Alisa and Luka, for example, seem determined to test the limits of my patience. Every meeting, every report, every minor disagreement, they needle me relentlessly. Luka with his smug smirks, Alisa with her biting commentary.
It’s almost like they want me to break.
And today, I actually do.
We’re in the council chamber, the long table lined with papers, dossiers, ledgers of names of the contacts we’re establishing connections with. The topic is straightforward—rebuilding our ranks. So many men were lost in thefallout between factions, some killed, some fled, some defected to Anton’s loyalists before the tide turned and they were crushed too. We need new blood, new training, new systems in place to prevent weakness from taking root again.
It should be routine.