***
I arrived at Nero’s, an upscale Mediterranean restaurant, where I found my mother and my woman having a very serious conversation over martinis. I hurried to their table as quickly as I could without drawing attention to myself, unsure whether my mother had already told her. Given the fact that Brooke looked surprised to see me, rather than angry, I suspected I had arrived just in time. Mama means well, but subtlety was not her forte.
“Privet, Mama.”
My mother turned and smiled. “Hello, Ilyusha, darling. Missed me?”
“What’s wrong?” Brooke posed the question to my mother, but her gaze flicked up to mine in search of answers.
I kept my attention on my mother, greeting her appropriately, with a smile and a kiss. “You are beautiful, Mama. As always. I am, however, surprised to see you.”
Her lips tugged into a wide, satisfied smile. “Yes, well, it seems as if I am not the only one full of surprises, as you so clearly haven’t told Brooke your news yet.” Her pale blue eyes assessed me carefully. “You are looking well, Ilyusha. Very well. America suits you.”
“Ilya.” Brooke’s voice was low and shaky. “You haven’t told me what?”
I glared at my mother before turning back to Brooke. She deserved the truth and she deserved to hear it from me. I sat down beside her and gathered her hands in mine, kissing her knuckles, her wrists, and then her soft lips. “I planned on telling you this over the weekend when we had plenty of time to talk it out, but fate has other plans. Apparently.”
“She has a right to know what she’s getting herself into, Ilyusha.”
“I know that, Mama.” She was right, but her timing was terrible. I tried for a smile I didn’t feel. I wasn’t often nervous, but right now that’s what I felt, nervous that Brooke would think this was too much. That she would bow out and I would lose her and become a part-time father to my daughter.
“What is it, Ilya? You can tell me anything. Anything,” she emphasized.
“Yes. Okay.” This was harder than I thought it would be, but I brushed another kiss to her lips to summon my courage and then I smiled. “Since I killed Oleg.”
“Which he fucking deserved,” she muttered.
“Yes, he did. But Oleg interrupted the line of succession when he killed my father.”
“He what?” My mother’s shocked question reminded me we had an audience.
I nodded before I continued. “I am next in line to head the Kuznetsov bratva. It is my legacy to be pakhan. My father spent his life preparing me for this role and now it is mine. Not officially yet, but it will be. Soon.” My heart rattled in my throat as I waited for Brooke to say something.
“Wait, so you’re going to be the head of the Russian mafia? Is that what you’re saying to me right now?”
“Not the whole thing, but our organization, yes.”
She looked thoughtful, which I took as a good sign. I was half expecting her to run off. “Does this mean Karina and I will always be in danger? Is there something special I have to do now that we’re together? Will people come after you for handling Oleg?” She paused and fixed me with a loaded look, “Are you to return to Russia?”
“I am staying here. You and Karina are my top priority. Always. No harm will come to you, not on my watch, I promise you that.” I cupped her face in my hands, so our eyes were locked on each other. “There will always be a certain level of danger, but nothing you have to worry about. I promise that every night I will come home to you. I will go to sleep with you in my arms. Every fucking night.”
She laid one hand on the side of my face and her smile came slowly but it was full of love and heat. “I believe you, Ilya. I trust you.” And then she kissed me, and it was the sweetest fucking kiss of my life.
Brooke trusted me, which meant that every day until I took my last breath, I would have to work hard to never ever betray that hard-earned trust.
I’d almost forgotten my mother was sitting there with us until her dulcet tones interrupted our moment, “How lovely. I believe that deserves a toast,” she snapped her fingers imperially summoning a waiter who rushed off to get the bottle of Dom Pérignon she requested.
My eyes went to Brooke and then to my mother, both women were smiling at one another. Brooke still looked a little like a rabbit caught in the headlights, but as far as bombshells went, I think that all in all, I handled it reasonably well.
As the next pakhan of the Kuznetsov bratva should.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Brooke
“This is a lot,” Lara whispered, and motioned around Club Envy where it seemed that every Russian, businessman, and celebrity in the state of New York had convened to celebrate Ilya.
Or rather, the new head of the Kuznetsov Group. Some of those attending only knew him as the legitimate business magnate, others knew what this position really meant, as pakhan of the Kuznetsov bratva, he now ran the whole state, possibly the entire East Coast. To be honest, I wasn’t all that sure what it meant even though Ilya had explained it to me multiple times. Maybe because each time his explanation ended with me naked and screaming his name.