Page 96 of Deceptive Vows

“Yes, Father. It makes sense, and now’s not the time to second-guess or pussyfoot around the shit. It makes sense. It would have been someone in our circle who would have known our movements or been feeding information. I don’t know if it’s one person or a group, but we need to watch our backs.”

“God in Heaven. This just gets from bad to worse.”

“I know.”

“Where are we at now?”

“I want to keep this between us for the moment, and I suggest an investigation on everyone who’s working for us.”

“Everyone.” He says this more like a statement than a question.

“Yes. We can’t afford to slip up. Eric is still checking things out.”

He nods. “Okay. And agreed. I will speak to Aiden Romanov personally and thank him for lending us one of his finest men.”

I dip my head. “Father, you know Eric would have helped outside of our alliance of the Bratva.”

“Yes. It’s a shame we can’t have such faith in our own men. I can’t begin to tell you how this makes me feel.” He bares his teeth and balls his hands into tight fists that shake more because of his ailments. “Someone we know and trusted with our lives was watching us, and they took your mother away from me.”

“I know how you feel, Father.”

He shakes his head. “My son, I know you loved you mother and sister with all your heart. It’s commendable how you took care of them. But you don’t know how I feel. Your mother was the love of my life, and you kids were the result of that love. The only way I could show my love for her was in my art. When I couldn’t do that any longer, I took comfort in just being with her. When you meet the woman who feels like the other half of your soul, nothing can describe what it feels like when you lose her.”

Few things grip me to the point where I feel in touch with my soul. He always seems to guide me to that place. I have no words of comfort for him, and I feel inadequate for it.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s enough to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Because nothing is enough, my son. Nothing will ever be enough. Loving her was my strength, and now it’s my weakness. Weakness is a curse in the Bratva. To be weak is to sign your death certificate, yet I chose it, and now it’s crippled me. There’s a hole in my heart that can never be filled again. Now that she’s gone, all I look forward to is death.”

The lifeless tone of his voice buries a hole into my own heart and disarms me. He’s right about weakness and love. Love is the fastest way to become weak because your enemies use it against you to destroy you from the inside out.

My father looks destroyed.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice warns me not to allow the same thing to happen to me. It’s laughable, though, because I always thought I was incapable of such love. But perhaps the voice beckons to me now because I’ve encountered my match. A woman I’ve been obsessed with owning and staking my claim to her body since the first look I got of her.

This is a dangerous thing that could cost me, and I can’t allow that to happen.

Father draws in a measured breath and tries to calm himself. I can tell he’s still worked up. I expect him to be, and it must be eating him up from the inside out that he can’t be the ruthless leader he used to be.

If he were his old self, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else besides him to be out on the street searching for the truth and justice.

“I promise you I will fix this,” I tell him, and he nods.

“I know you will. I’m grateful for the way you’ve literally come back from the dead and taken this on.”

“Thanks, Father. Remember we still have control of the cartel. That’s a big win the enemy never anticipated. They also never anticipated me. I wasn’t supposed to survive.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“So, take comfort that I have this in hand.”

I need him to believe me and trust my capabilities. Especially for the goal I have in mind. Like fuck am I going to allow him to choose Ivan to be Pakhan when I have all the skills it would take to lead the brotherhood the way our forefathers did.

That’s why I need to stay focused. It’s imperativenowmore than ever that I do.

He rests a hand on my shoulder and nods.

“I do, Mikhail. I do take comfort in all you do. And I trust you to figure this out. You have my permission to do whatever you see fit and use whatever resources you need to, to accomplish this task of securing the company and the Brotherhood.”