Page 99 of Demitri

“You stole my bottle of vodka,” I say to Sasha.

“I haven’t had a drop out of it and will make sure it finds its way safely back to you.”

Demitri squeezes my hand and looks at his uncle. “Why are you here? Why did you come back? What do you want? Is it about the money?”

The older man laughs, ending in a cough. Aunt Linda hurries to get out of the booth and runs over behind the bar, pouring the man a glass of water. She returns and sets it in front of the older man before taking her seat next to him. It’s like she’s taking care of him. Like she cares for him.

“Demitri, I don’t need your money, nor do I want it. I have my own, dear boy.”

“Then why?”

“To protect you. And yourledi.” He gestures to me. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“To protect us?”

“Yes.”

“Why should I believe that?Dyadya, I watched you. For years, I saw what you did. The women you hurt.”

“You saw what I wanted you to see, Demi.”

Demitri flinches at the nickname. One he doesn’t use. Dem? Yes. Demi? No.

“What does that even mean?”

“You saw me remove women. You saw me hand them over to other men. Men you assumed were just as evil as yourotetz.”

“Exactly! You sold those women to other men without any remorse or resistance!”

“Demitri, those men? They were government agents. I was helping those girls get out. To safety.”

Demitri’s head flings back like he’s been punched. I feel the blow, too.

“You killed Mika!”

“No, I didn’t. That wasn’t me. That was your father and Andrey.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, like the weight of the world has been on his shoulders for way too long. He gives me a look asking for forgiveness as he reaches for the bottle Aunt Linda left on the table and pours another shot. After downing it, he turns to Aunt Linda, who nods her head with a gentle smile on her face.

“I guess I should start at the beginning.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

DEMITRI

I look at Mia,who raises a brow at me. Challenging me to say something to him about his comment. Guess it runs in the family.

“That is usually the best place to start,” I tell him.

“You know some of the family history. You know that our great-great-great something-or-other worked for that man’s great-great-great whatever.” He nods his head to Daniel, who sits up straight, listening hard. “You know the families broke ties when one of ours and one of theirs ran away together in the name of love.”

I nod. I’d heard the family history my whole life.

“Our father was sent back home. He was told to raise the good Russian sons and not come back until we were powerful enough to take over from them.” He looks at Daniel again. “My father was a cruel man. Hard. Taught us in fists and blood, power and money. He did not love us, only loved what we would be able to do for him when we were big and strong.”

I know very little about my grandfather other than the old stories. I nod at Sasha to continue.

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