Page 45 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

KOVAN

“I’m sorry for just dropping in like this.”

Richard Lovell looks like hell. His white hair sticks up at odd angles and dark circles ring his eyes. The man clearly hasn’t been sleeping well since taking over as board president.

Not that I blame him. Working for me comes with its own set of pressures.

“Not at all,” I say. “My door is always open. Take a seat, Richard. What brings you by?”

It’s been weeks since I’ve set foot in Krayev Headquarters.

My personal assistants practically jump out of their skin when the elevator doors open and I walk onto the floor.

Clearly, they’ve gotten comfortable slacking off during my recovery.

Their usually pristine desks are buried under stacks of files, documents, and neon Post-It notes stuck to every available surface.

I make a mental note to have a conversation with Henry and Maggie about productivity standards.

“You told me to keep you informed of any updates, particularly regarding…” Richard pauses, lowering his voice. “… Ihor Makhova.”

My jaw tightens. “He made contact.”

“This morning. He cornered me in my office and introduced himself.” Richard pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at his forehead. “Very charming fellow. Real smooth talker.”

“I bet he was. Did he mention the Keres organization?”

“Not directly, but he laid the groundwork. Said he was interested in developing a ‘strong working relationship’ with me, just like he had with Jeremy Fleming.”

“Of course he did.” I start spinning a pen between my fingers. “Anything else?”

Richard reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He slides it across my desk with shaking fingers. “He wants to make an investment.”

I unfold the paper and scan the contents. A check made out to St. Raphael’s Hospital for ten million dollars, signed by Ihor Makhova.

“How predictable,” I mutter, tossing the check aside. “Did he bring up anything else?”

Richard shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “He asked a lot of questions about your wife.”

Every muscle in my body goes rigid. “He mentioned Vesper?”

“Don’t worry,” Richard rushes to assure me, mopping his forehead again. “I told him I wasn’t at liberty to discuss any of my staff with anyone outside the board.”

“I’m sure he loved that response.”

Richard actually shudders. “There’s something very unsettling about that man, Kovan. He looks at you like he’s deciding whether you’re more useful alive or dead…”

“Don’t worry about Ihor. I’ll handle him. All you need to do is your job.”

Richard swallows hard. His knuckles are white where he grips the arms of his chair. “Am I at risk here? Because I have a wife, two daughters, and an ailing mother who depends on me.”

I study his face for a long moment. The man is terrified, and I can’t blame him. Ihor has that effect on people.

“I’m a little offended you’d even ask that question, Richard. Aren’t I paying for your daughters’ private school tuition? Aren’t I covering that mortgage on your Marin County estate? Did I not personally arrange for your mother to receive care at the most exclusive facility in the city?”

“Of course! I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just?—”

“I understand. Ihor got inside your head. He made threats and convinced you that you have something to be afraid of.” I stand up and walk around to the front of my desk.

“But trust me, Richard. No matter how scary you think Ihor is, I’m ten times worse.

You and your family are safe. I guarantee it. ”

Richard nods gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Krayev.”

“I take care of my people. All I ask in return is loyalty.”

“You have it.”

“Good to know.” I glance at my watch. “Now, tell me—did you contact the doctor Vesper recommended? Dr. Walters?”

“I called her office just before coming here,” says Richard. “Made her an offer she’d be crazy to refuse. She said she’d get back to me within the next few days.”

“Make sure she says yes. I want Dr. Walters on staff at any cost. It’s the only way Vesper will be able to enjoy her maternity leave without worrying about her patients.”

“Understood. I’ll make it happen.”

“Excellent.” I grab my car keys from the desk. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to get home. My son is expecting me for dinner.”

Richard’s face brightens. “How is young Luka adjusting to everything?”

“Better than expected. He’s excited about becoming a big brother.” I shake Richard’s hand. “Thanks for the heads up about Ihor. Keep me posted if he contacts you again.”

“Will do, sir.”

We leave the building together, Richard heading to the parking garage while I climb into my SUV. Everything is proceeding according to plan. The one variable I can’t control is Ihor and his proximity to Vesper.

But I intend to address that problem very soon.

The first thing I notice when I walk into the house is Vesper perched on the mezzanine bridge overlooking the formal living room. She’s trying to stay hidden behind one of the marble columns while spying on whatever’s happening below.

I snap my fingers to get her attention, but she’s too focused on her surveillance mission to notice me.

Pavel emerges from the kitchen, carrying a bottle of beer. “She’s been up there for thirty minutes,” he tells me. “Yana brought a bag full of video games for Luka.”

“Let me guess: Grand Theft Auto and Call of Duty ?”

“Worse. Some new game where you play as a cartel leader building a drug empire.” Pavel takes a swig of his beer. “Real wholesome stuff for a nine-year-old.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Luka’s not having any of it, though. Kid’s got good instincts. He keeps suggesting they play chess instead.” Pavel grins. “You should see Yana’s face every time he rejects another violent game.”

“The kid likes pushing her buttons.”

“Can you blame him? Every time I see that woman’s face, I want to set something on fire.”

“We need to keep the peace for now, Pavel. Antagonizing her won’t serve us in the long run.”

Pavel sighs. “Try telling that to Luka. He’s the one who has to sit through these visits with her.”

I glance up at Vesper, who’s now crouched behind the column like some kind of pregnant spy. “Get her out of there. I don’t want Yana spotting her, especially with her belly showing.”

“I already tried twenty minutes ago. She told me exactly where I could stick my suggestions, using some very colorful language. For a doctor, I don’t think she knows a lot about anatomy, though, because some of her ideas were just not physically possible.”

I shake my head. “She’s gotten so much more stubborn since the pregnancy.”

“‘Stubborn’ is one word for it.” Pavel drains his beer. “Good luck getting her to move. I’m staying out of that particular battle.”

“Coward.”

“Smart,” Pavel corrects. “I’ve learned not to argue with women, pregnant or otherwise. Charity taught me that lesson real quick.”

“Speaking of Charity, how are things going between you two?”

Pavel’s entire demeanor shifts. The teasing expression disappears, replaced by something more serious for a change. “Really good, actually. She’s different from anyone I’ve ever been with. Makes me want to be a better man, you know?”

“I’m happy for you, brother. Truly.” I pat his shoulder. “Now, go get my stubborn girlfriend away from that balcony before Yana sees her. I’ll deal with the witch-in-law.”

Pavel groans but heads upstairs while I slip into the living room through the side entrance.

Luka sits cross-legged on the Persian rug, surrounded by discarded video game cases. Yana has claimed the leather armchair across from him, dressed in a skin-tight wrap dress that leaves nothing to the imagination.

She looks ready for a nightclub, not a visit with her nine-year-old son.

“That sculpture over there—is it new?” Yana asks, pointing to the abstract bronze piece I purchased a few months ago.

Luka shrugs. “I dunno.”

“Isn’t that a Jeff Koons? The man is incredibly famous. I met him at a gallery opening once. He spent the entire evening trying to get in my pants.” She examines her manicured nails. “If I’d known how much his work would be worth one day, I might have let him.”

What a charming story to share with a child.

Luka looks confused. “I don’t know any artists.”

“Of course you don’t,” Yana says dismissively. “What about that chair? Is that an original Eames?”

The woman might know her designer labels, but she clearly has no idea how to talk to a kid.

“I don’t know what that is,” Luka admits quietly.

“For God’s sake, Luka, look around. This place is filled with expensive things. It’s borderline wasteful. So this is what he’s doing with my money.”

“Your money?” Luka asks innocently.

“Yes, my money. Your uncle stopped my monthly allowance, so now, I can’t afford anything. I’m about to lose the house, too.”

Luka stares at her without responding.

“Say something, boy!” Yana snaps so suddenly that Luka flinches. His eyes go wide with alarm.

I’m about to step in and end this conversation when she continues her rant.

“It’s not right, Luka. Your father loved me. He would have wanted me to be taken care of financially.”

“Ihor can take care of you,” Luka suggests.

I have to bite back a grin. Whether intentional or not, that was a perfect response.

“Ihor can’t, baby. Do you want to know why? Because of your uncle. He’s trying to destroy us. And for what? Because he wanted to steal you away from me.”

“Uncle Kovan didn’t steal me,” Luka says quietly.

Yana ignores him completely. “It’s not right. I should sue him. He has an obligation to support me, especially since I’m your mother.”

“No, you’re not,” Luka blurts out.

I freeze. Did he really just say that? Out loud? To her face?

“Excuse me?” Yana’s voice turns dangerous.

“You’re not my mom!” Luka’s voice grows stronger. “Vesper’s my mom. She’s the mom I want.”

Yana looks like someone just slapped her. Her mouth falls open, her gray eyes flash with fury, and red blotches appear on her neck and chest.

“Whether you like it or not, I am your mother,” she hisses. “That little bitch might think she can replace me, but?—”

“Don’t call her that!” Luka jumps to his feet. “She’s not a bitch! You are!”

Yana’s eyes bulge with rage. She springs from her chair and lunges forward, grabbing Luka by the ear and twisting hard. He drops to his knees, his face contorting in pain. “How dare you speak to me that way, you little shit? How dare you?—”

“Yana!” I roar, stepping into their line of sight. “Get your hands off him. Now.”

Her eyes narrow when she sees me, but she doesn’t release Luka. “He’s my son.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.”

With a sneer, she shoves Luka away from her as if he’s something disgusting she found on her shoe. “You have no right?—”

“I have every right,” I cut her off. “You had rights, too, until you decided to put your hands on my kid. Now, you’re done.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means these little visits you’ve been insisting on having with Luka are finished. You’re no longer welcome in this house or anywhere near him.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“I’ll go back to court. I’ll appeal to the judge. I’ll tell him?—”

“Tell him what exactly?” I interrupt. “That you need these visits so you can intimidate and abuse your nine-year-old son? Because that’s exactly what I’ll tell the judge. Better yet, that’s exactly what Luka will tell him.” I place my hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right, son?”

Luka straightens his spine and faces Yana directly. “That’s right.”

Yana’s face goes pale, then red, then pale again. “Luka, I’m your mama?—”

“No, you’re not. You’ve never really been my mama. I don’t want you anymore. The only mama I want is Vesper.”

Yana’s hands clench into fists. She backs away from us, her face twisted with rage. “You can’t do this. You’ve brainwashed my son. You’ve turned him against me. It’s that bitch you’re sleeping with. She’s the one who?—”

“If you want to blame someone, Yana, take a long look in the mirror.” I step between her and Luka.

“I was willing to honor the court-ordered visitation as long as you behaved yourself. Since that’s apparently impossible, I’m revoking that privilege.

I don’t want you anywhere near my woman or my children. ”

The last word slips out before I can stop it. Children —plural. After weeks of drilling discretion into Luka, here I am spilling our biggest secret because I’m too angry to think straight.

“ Children ?” Yana pounces on the mistake immediately. “Don’t tell me you knocked up that whore.”

“Stop calling her that!” Luka cries out.

I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly while keeping my attention on Yana. “I’m having a son,” I tell her, knowing the information will hurt her exactly the way I want it to.

All the color drains from her face. Her lips compress into a thin line, and her eyes widen with shock and fury.

“This isn’t over,” she snarls.

She spins around and stalks toward the front door. The rap of her stilettos sounds like bones breaking.

“Papa.” Luka grabs my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”

“Stop right there. You did nothing wrong, Luka.” I crouch down to meet his eyes. “Do you hear me? You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

“But did you see the look on her face?” Tears start forming in his eyes. “What if she tries to hurt Mama or my baby brother?”

I pull him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to worry about that, son. I’m going to take care of them. I’m going to take care of all of you.”

Luka sniffles against my shoulder. “You promise?”

“I swear it on my life.”