Page 40 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

KOVAN

Leo Vega.

The name stares back at me from the fake passport photo—Luka’s serious face beneath a stranger’s identity.

He’ll probably get a kick out of the star sign reference.

The kid’s obsessed with the cosmos, always has been.

Maybe, when he’s forced to use this passport, the name will offer some small comfort…

… when he’s running for his life without me.

I flip the passport closed and add it to the stack of forged documents spread across my desk. The Vega family—complete with birth certificates, Social Security cards, driver’s licenses. Everything Pavel, Vesper, and Charity will need to disappear with Luka if this war with Ihor goes sideways.

The office door creaks open and Luka walks in carrying a wooden box that looks ready to burst. His arms strain under the weight.

“What’ve you got there, kiddo?”

“Some of my old toys.” He hefts the box onto my desk with a grunt. “For the baby.”

I stuff the fake documents into my desk drawer and turn the lock. The key goes into my pocket while Luka starts unpacking his treasures.

“Look—I brought books we can read to him. And my first telescope. Oh, and the star projector from my room.” He holds up each item reverently.

“Luka.” I lean back in my chair. “You love that telescope. And the projector. What’s this really about?”

His hands pause on a worn picture book. “They’re good toys. The baby should have the best stuff.”

“The baby is still in Vesper’s tummy. These would be wasted on him right now.”

“I know.” His face falls. “I just wanted you to know I’m okay with sharing.”

“Thank you, malysh. That’s incredibly thoughtful of you.”

He digs deeper into the box, pulling out wooden blocks and a stuffed dinosaur. “Actually, if you want to give him my room, that’s fine, too. It’s bigger than the guest rooms, and it has the garden view. Babies probably like looking at trees and flowers, right?”

“You’d give up your room?”

“He’s your real son.” Luka won’t meet my eyes. “He should get the best of everything.”

I push back from the desk. “Stop digging through that box and come here.”

“I’m just trying to help?—”

“You can help from over here.” I snap my fingers, and he shuffles his feet around the desk. I grab him under the arms and lift him onto the surface in front of me. “What’s going on, Luka?”

He shakes his head, staring at his hands.

“Yesterday, you called me Papa. Remember?” I wait until he looks up. “If that’s true, then you can talk to me about anything.”

“I just want to be helpful,” he mumbles. “I don’t want you to love the new baby more than me. So I thought, if I gave him all my stuff, maybe you’d still want me around.”

I put my hands on his knees. “It’s great that you want to help with your brother.

It’s great that you want to share. But never at the expense of your own happiness.

” I touch his chin to make sure he’s still looking at me.

“You’re as much my son as this baby is. Actually, you’re the firstborn.

The big brother. That’s a harder job, but I’m not worried because I know you can handle it. ”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“I do. You want to know why?”

He swallows. “Why?”

“Because it’s in your blood. You know who else was a big brother?”

“Who?”

“Your father.” The pang of grief in my chest surprises me. I haven’t let myself think about Vitalii this way in months. “Your dad spent his whole life being an older brother, and he was damn good at it.”

Luka starts picking at his cuticles. “How?”

“He listened when I needed to talk. He called me out when I was being an idiot. He protected me when I couldn’t protect myself.” I pause, remembering. “He always had my back. Always. That’s what big brothers do.”

“Was he a good pakhan ?”

The question catches me between truth and kindness. Luka deserves honesty, but he also deserves to think well of his father.

“He did the best he could,” I offer eventually.

“That’s your way of saying no, isn’t it?”

I ruffle his dark hair. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

He grins. “Vesper tells me that all the time.”

“Leadership didn’t come naturally to your father. He would’ve preferred to just be your dad.” I choose my words carefully. “He cared more about taking care of you than taking care of the Bratva.”

“Is that why he died?”

“In a way.” I grip the edge of my chair. “He died because he trusted people he shouldn’t have trusted.”

“Papa…” The name still sounds strange coming from him, but good strange. “Does this mean I’ll be pakhan someday? Or will the baby be it?”

“That depends on you, Luka. This isn’t royalty where leadership gets passed down automatically. In this family, you fight for what you want. You earn what you get. And nothing is decided for you. You get to choose what matters.”

He turns toward the window, staring out at the garden. He looks older than nine. He looks like Vitalii at that age—serious, thoughtful, carrying weight that shouldn’t belong to a child.

In a few years, he’ll be a man. I’ll know then if I did right by him or if I failed him the way this world failed his father.

“Papa? Can we go outside and play soccer?”

“Give me a couple minutes to finish up here, then we’ll go.”

He jumps down from the desk and heads for the door. I watch him walk away, noting how much he moves like his father now. The resemblance gets stronger every day.

Vitalii thought he wanted to be pakhan once. He was wrong about that.

I never wanted to be pakhan , and here I am.

The question that keeps me awake at night: Which one of us will Luka take after?

I pull out the fake passport again and stare at Leo Vega. The boy who might have to learn to answer to a stranger’s name because I couldn’t protect him any other way.

The relentless accumulation of it all—the fake documents, the escape plans, the possibility that I might lose everything I’ve fought to build—is enough to drown me. But more overwhelming still is the thought of Luka paying the price for my choices.

Outside, I can hear him kicking a ball against the garden wall, practicing alone while he waits for me. The rhythmic thump echoes through the house.

I lock the passport away with the rest of the Vega family documents and stand up. Whatever’s coming, Luka deserves these last normal moments. He deserves to just be a kid playing soccer with his father.

Even if that father is planning for the day he might have to let him go.

Even if that day comes sooner than either of us is ready for.