Page 31 of The Bratva's Captive

I knew better than to cling to the silly hope that he’d want to ensure I was safe and protected ever again.

I only had myself, and somehow, that would have to be enough.

14

MAXIM

The first day after my father’s poisoning should’ve been a low-key one where we would all take a chance to get used to the trauma. We had to hold it together and appear strong for each other. My grandmother was no dainty thing who’d cry at violence. And my brothers were just as strong and determined to succeed after this strike on our turf, at our home. It took a lot to get to us because we were hardened by the lives we lived and the deaths we’d suffered.

My mother had been gunned down executioner style. Someone slit my grandfather’s neck after hejustsurvived cancer. Countless other Ivanov men had been hit or attacked over my lifetime.

Still, this was a major incident that came with the roller coaster of fear and anger that should be broken up with a chance to relax and desensitize to the constant threat level we experienced.

However, we didn’t sit around and hawk over my father resting in his bed. With the nurses and doctors in the mansion, we had adequate care for him. His recovery would take time.

Meanwhile, we all set out to downplay any possibility that we had been weakened or that the Ivanov family was now vulnerable.

Along with a few select leaders within the organization, my brothers and I set out to spread the word that Grigory Ivanov was alive. Letting others in the community hear about this was a risk and a necessity. While it wasn’t good to let any other family learn about how we hadn’t been able to prevent an intruder from sneaking in and poisoning him, it was critical to let them all know that he was still with us and was expected to return to his position as the boss again.

It was also imperative that we inform all of our friends and foes that I was now in charge. Some might have expected Grandmother to take the lead, but this still was a man’s world. She had influence and impact over us, and she was no dismissed figure in the family, but I was the next in line. And we all made sure to spread the word that if anyone wished to speak with the boss of the Ivanov Syndicate, I was the man they would be hoping to get an audience with.

Between our efforts of spreading the word that Father was alive and that I was in charge for the interim, we all tried to catch any gossip running through our associates. Any little idea or clue could help us in this investigation, but nobody was saying anything. When people expressed surprise at the news of Grigory Ivanov being poisoned, I caught myself watching them skeptically, wondering if they were only acting surprised or if this had actually caught this many others off guard.

Everyone was a suspect as far as I was concerned.

My brothers seemed to share that sentiment.

And still, by the end of the second day after Father was poisoned, we had no clue who could’ve been behind this incident. It was automatic to think of the Romanos and the Kozlovs, though, and with Nik and Saul spying on those two families the best they could without giving it away that they were spying, I wanted to believe that someone would let something slip sooner or later.

Because the second I knew who’d done this and tried to kill my father, they were dead.

After dinner, where I listened to what Nik and Saul had learned—which wasn’t much—I glanced at my grandmother and noted how stressed she looked.

Damon entered then, late to the meal because he was busy torturing someone Saul had brought in for questioning. He shook his head, giving me a silent answer for what I wanted to ask.

Negative.

Nothing new.

No answers and no clues.

I squeezed my hand in a fist and tapped it to the table, barely reining in the anger and urge to slam it instead. I couldn’t be hot-headed now. I was in charge and I would do right by my father. He’d be disappointed if I let my rage and emotions get the better of me. He’d led by example for too long for me to not know that I had to stay calm and logical in this position of temporary leadership. Too many men and families depended on the Ivanov power for me to act like an idiot and be impatient to identify the person who’d poisoned him.

Damon sat without a word, digging into his late meal. Nik and Saul spoke some more, filling him in with all they’d tried to find out. Hugo appeared, too, commenting about his lack of answers.

Once my brothers left the dining room, I remained with my grandmother for a little longer.

“You are handling this well, Maxim,” she said as she set her now-empty wineglass down.

I exhaled a long breath, not in the mood to agree with her. “I’m trying,” I said instead.

She nodded, regal as ever, but I saw the stress on her face.

“You must remain calm and wait,” she advised.

That was exactly what I was fucking doing.

“And these things take time,” she conceded with a heavy sigh. Looking at the empty chair my grandfather used to occupy, the one next to her so he could be close to her instead of being seated where I was, at the head of the table, she almost smiled wistfully. “I remember the long, hard days after we lost Andre,” she said. “Everything had to be investigated. We had to dig deep and question so many until we could figure out the path of who’d killed him. And why.”

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