Page 83 of Deadly Knight

We’re about to take off. See you soon.

My phone gets tossedto the couch beside me as the plane starts with a rumbling sound, the jets whirring to life. Below, my father is in the luggage compartments so if he wakes before arrival, I won’t have to deal with him.

Anticipation thrums through me. The sooner I get my father locked away and dealt with, the sooner I get to see Katya.

The sooner I get to keep her.

Whatever Corsetti’smen drugged him with keeps him knocked out for the entire overseas trip to the Russian mountains, where, buried within the snow, a guarded metal door waits.

As soon as I step into the camera’s view, it opens with a beep, and the two soldiers who met me at the landing pad we have up north for such occasions drag my father in behind me. He’s groaning as the drugs wear off.

They take the first hallway in the direction of the Bratva’s wing while I head in the opposite direction to seek out the warden and pass on my instructions for their newest captive.

Once finished with the warden, I’m informed my father’s awake, so I head to one of the holding rooms—a temporary placeso we can talk. He’s upright in a metal chair, a soldier on either side of him. His gaze is unfocused as he blinks a few times, settling on me crossing the small space towards him.

I dismiss the men with a wave of my hand.

Once we’re alone, he coughs his greeting.“Syn.”

“Ivan.”

He licks chapped lips as he takes in the stone room, recognition settling in. “So it ends here then? Prison.”

“For now.”

“Failure. I should be dead.”

That’s something he’d do to captives because he’s unimaginative. “Death is too quick for your actions. Alive, you get to live with the pain of your actions every single fucking day untilIdecide to grant you mercy.” Exactly how Katya now has a lifetime of trauma to live with. “How’s it feel to be restricted to another’s control? You certainly spent a lifetime forcing your power onto others, so it’s only fair you feel it as well.”

He smirks, putting up his usual façade through the fear tinging his eyes. “Well, well, at least you’ve learned something. I appreciate this decision after hearing your reasoning. Though, if you weren’t so weak, this could have been over last week. Instead, you chose your whore.”

“I won either way.” I refuse to give him the pleasure of commenting on his insult.

“That you did.”

His gaze flicks to the door behind me, and I almost want him totry. Try to escape just so I can prove to him every reason why he’ll fail.

Instead, he crosses his arms and kicks one ankle over his knee. “Nice job in contracting the Corsettis to help you. It’s something true leaders do—use every resource possible.”

My jaw ticks, hating how he always seems to be one step ahead, right down to knowing about my deal with Nico.

“In a way,” he continues with a heavy sigh, “I’m pleased I’ve been caught. I’m tired,syn. Dimitri.” Something flickers in his eyes and, for the briefest moment, I catch a hint of the father I once cared for. When I was a child and didn’t know any better. “Look around. My brother is gone. Vanessa tore apart the Pakhan’s inner circle and replaced them all withchildren.” He shakes his head, a sneer lifting his nose. “You…you, I expected this from. But the Petrov kids? Lev is good, but he’s too focused on his technology, and Anastasia”—his tone sharpens with disgust—“she’s a woman. Her and Vanessa have no place in this world. They should both be wed off, made wives for connections to organizations around the world.”

I almost sigh at his continuous, repetitive raving. He’s the fucking definition of gender inequality.

“No matter what I do, Vanessa will not hand over the Bratva. Even if she did, it’s not likeyou’dstep up. You realize you’re allowing a bitch to steal your birthright.”

“Herbirthright,” I snap. “She’sUrsin’s heir.”

“A female willneverbe heir. It’s not how the Bratva works.”

“It is now.”

Shaking his head, he mutters, “Ursin should never have been leader either, but he was the firstborn, so it went to him. He was too soft, too much like our mama, never fit enough to run the organization. My papa wanted it to skip him and go to me, but his Elite got concerned about breaking tradition. Had Papa gotten his way,you, Dimitri would be the true heir.”

This pointless history lesson is simply a dead man’s final plea and changes nothing.

“Good thing I never wanted leadership.”