His Darkest Obsession (Baryshev Bratva #1)

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Page 48 of His Darkest Obsession (Baryshev Bratva #1)

ANATOLY

ONE WEEK LATER

I take another sip of vodka straight from the bottle, not bothering with a glass as I watch the sun making its slow and inexorable descent into the horizon from my office in Manhattan.

Indigo has slipped away from me like water through my fingers. She barely looks at me anymore, and keeps herself wrapped tight in layers of clothes even inside the mansion.

The fire that burned between us has gone cold.

Last night at dinner, she sat as far from me as the table allowed, answering my questions with single words before excusing herself early.

I keep replaying the morning after the election in my mind. One moment she was warm in my arms, whispering my name like a prayer.

The next... nothing.

She moved back to her own room without explanation, and I've been sleeping alone ever since.

God, was that really just a week ago?

Roma tells me that this might be for the best. This way, I can devote all focus on the bratva and the war with the Volkovs that's bleeding us dry. I crumple up the paper telling me that we lost another three more men yesterday.

As for Bennet…

That snake keeps delaying our agreed appointments with bureaucratic excuses. Each time I call, it's the same bullshit about "processes" and "timing."

I slam my fist against the desk, papers scattering to the floor.

"Fuck!"

Victory has turned to ash. The city that should be mine still slips from my grasp.

And the woman that I love…

But at the thought of that single cursed word, the fucking bratva oath returns and hangs over my head like a sword on a string: "I care for no one but the bratva, and I shall love none other than the bratva."

But that's not fucking true, is it? It hasn't been fucking true since the moment she drew that razor across my throat.

I want to fucking tell her that. But we haven't been able to get a single moment with each other for the past week. It's almost like she's deliberately avoiding me.

It's Bennet, I think to myself. It has to be. She's heard that he won the re-election, and that must be why she's becoming withdrawn like this. It has to be.

My thoughts are interrupted by shouting and shuffling outside my door. Moments later, the door bursts open and in come both my brothers.

Roma looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, and Vassily has a shit-eating triumphant grin that tells me that I'm not going to like whatever the fuck is about to come out of his mouth.

Sure enough, he struts over to my desk and tosses a manila folder down with a theatrical flourish. Several sheets of paper slide out. Each one seems to be an official-looking document.

"What the fuck is this?" I ask, even though I have a suspicion that I know exactly what I'm looking at.

"This," Vassily says, practically bouncing on his heels, "is the NDA that Romochka couldn't get his hands on. The one you've been so desperate to see."

My blood freezes in my veins. I look from the folder to Roma, who's staring at the floor, then back to Vassily's triumphant face.

"I gave you a direct order to keep this quiet."

"Don't blame him, Tolya." Vassily waves his hand, grinning, and then grabs the bottle off my desk. "Romochka didn't fuck up. He was a good little boy who does as he's told."

"How the fuck did you find out, then?" I demand.

"After that stunt you and your wife pulled at the gala, Bennett suddenly refused all Volkov money. Naturally, Taras got curious, so he put Grisha on it."

Vassily plops himself down in the chair across my desk, kicks his feet up on the surface uninvited, and takes a swig before he keeps talking.

"And Grisha, that fucking idiot," he says. "Just couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Once he started talking, Mother found out. And she turned to me."

He taps the folder with one finger.

My fists clench at my sides. "You had no right—"

"You should thank me," Vassily interrupts. "Count your lucky stars it was me who uncovered the truth and not one of our enemies."

He leans back, a smug grin on his face. "You know, I've got to hand it to you, Tolya. I thought you just married her to stick it to Lola. When I first saw your little blue-haired bride, I figured she was just a sweet piece of ass you wanted to fuck to humiliate the Volkovs."

"That's my wife you're talking about." My jaw tightens. "Watch your fucking mouth or I'll give you another beating."

"Fucking relax." Vassily laughs, unfazed by my warning and the fact that I beat the shit out of him last time. "I'm actually giving you a compliment. Because after reading this?" He taps the folder again. "You're a fucking genius. Seriously."

I want to grab his fingers and break them one by one for the way he's talking about my fucking wife. But more importantly, I want to break his fingers for knowing something about Indigo that she hasn't chosen to share with me.

"I've already read through the whole thing," Vassily continues, his eyes bright with excitement. "And holy shit, does it have some good stuff in it. With this information in our hands, Bennet will dance to every fucking tune we play."

He starts counting on his fingers.

"Police commissioner? Done. District attorney? All yours. You want a judge in every borough? Just fucking ask. Fuck, you could probably shoot someone on 5th Avenue in broad daylight with a thousand witnesses, and Bennet would tell the whole city that it wasn't fucking you."

He whistles low.

"I can understand why Bennet wanted this shit quiet. And the best part of it all? This is the only fucking copy!"

What?

That last bit of information is surprising as hell.

The only copy? What the hell kind of an NDA is this that there's only a single copy? The only explanation I can think of is that Bennet was scared as shit about the information leaking out.

But that also means…

I remember Indigo telling me that Bennet had her parents murdered to cover something up. But what exactly was he trying to hide? The contents of the NDA or the NDA's very existence?

"Well?" Vassily leans forward, practically vibrating with excitement as he drums the desk. "Are you going to read it or what?"

I hate how eager he looks, like a fucking kid on Christmas morning waiting to watch someone open the booby-trapped present he's wrapped.

This is my fucking wife's past he's talking about here. Not some juicy tell-all published in the tabloids.

"Vasya, take another drink, and calm down," I tell him. "Let me read it."

Vassily grins, takes a long pull from the bottle, and smacks his lips as he throws his head back. He offers the bottle to Roma as the shit-eating grin on his face grows wider.

"Want a pull, Romochka? You look like you could use one now that you're back to being the least useful one of the three of us."

Roma crosses his arms over his chest, his expression stone-cold. "Shut the fuck up, Vasya."

I look down at the manila folder resting on my desk. Inside are all the answers I've been searching for - the secret that both Indigo and Bennet have tried so fucking hard to hide.

My fingers hover over the edge. Once I open this, there's no going back. Whatever's in there cannot be unlearned.

I think about Amara's journal entry from all those weeks ago when I broke into their apartment: "Miels is crying again tonight. She's been doing that a lot this summer. Ever since she got that internship."

I need to know what happened to her.

I pull out the document and start reading. Each word makes the blood in my veins burn hotter. Red bleeds into my vision as I read, and by the time I finish just the first line—and there are many more—I slam the folder shut with enough force to make the desk shake.

My hands are trembling with rage.

I'm going to fucking kill him. I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM!

Vassily looks at me with a disappointed pout. "What the fuck, Tolya? Aren't you going to read the rest?"

"No." My voice sounds strange even to my own ears. Deadly calm when there's a hurricane raging inside me.

"What do you mean, no?" Vassily's eyes widen in genuine confusion. "This is fucking gold! This is everything we need to—"

"I DON'T NEED TO READ ANOTHER FUCKING WORD!" I stand up quickly and send the chair crashing behind me.

Vassily recoils at my sudden anger, and even Roma uncrosses his arms.

"I have a job for both of you." I look at them as I bring my voice back to a semblance of steadiness. "Roma, go back to the mansion and make sure Indigo is safe. Don't let her out of your sight."

Roma nods.

"Vasya. You're coming with me."

"Where are you going?" Roma asks.

I look down at my hand and see that it's balled into a fist. The knuckles are white, but all I want is to see Bennet's blood on them.

"I'm going to fucking kill Grant Bennet."

"What? Why?" Roma asks. "Vasya just told us this will give us control over Bennet! And you're going to kill him now?"

"Yes, now." The rage is so thick in my throat I can barely breathe through it. "That motherfucker needs to die!"

"Only if you tell me what's in there that's worth throwing everything away," Roma persists.

"Romochka is right, Tolya." Vassily joins in. "You need to see reason! I didn't go through all this fucking trouble just so—"

I'm around the desk before he can finish, haul him out of his seat by his expensive silk shirt, and slam him in the window so hard that that it cracks.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU WENT THROUGH!" I roar into his face. "I WILL NOT ALLOW GRANT BENNET TO LIVE ANOTHER DAY!"

The color drains from Vassily's face. For the first time since we were children, I see genuine fear in his eyes. He swallows hard and nods quickly.

"Okay, okay, spokoina." He raises his hands, trembling, but I refuse to let him go. "We go kill him. Fuck, just put me down."

Roma moves toward the desk and reaches for the manila folder.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!" I bellow, still pinning Vassily to the cracked window. "Don't you fucking dare touch it."

Roma freezes, his hand suspended in mid-air. "What could possibly be so damning in there, Tolya?"

I release Vassily, who slumps slightly against the window, straightening his collar with trembling fingers.

"Get the fuck back to the house," I say to Roma. "Now. And stay there."

Roma doesn't move. He just stares at me, trying to understand what could drive me to this breaking point.

And when he still refuses to move, I shout. "ETO MOI PRIKAZ!"

Roma finally nods and heads out the door. The moment it closes behind him, I release Vassily, and shove him away from me with disgust.

"Don't think you're off the hook, Vasya," I snarl, straightening my jacket. "We'll deal with Bennet first, but after that, you and I are going to have a conversation about your habit of snooping around without orders."

Vassily wipes at his mouth, a nervous gesture I've known since we were children. "I was just trying to help the bratva—"

"Don't." My voice cuts through the air like a blade. "Don't fucking talk right now."

I stride toward the door, my mind replaying every single word from that NDA. It was nothing but clinical language and legal terms that all tried to sanitize an awful reality.