Page 90 of Shadows of the Past
I had Vera…until I put a bullet in her head. Akim tried to be there, but our friendship was forged in battle, not comfort. We were soldiers watching each other’s backs, not brothers pouring out our hearts.
"Alexei Borisov didn't want a defective child, and Ivan had too much influence for me, at fifteen, to do anything. That's why I never made contact. When you took the reins, I started implementing my plan," I admit, because the truth is, Roman couldn’t have helped me back then. His own power wasn’t secure, and enemies were circling like vultures. I would have only dragged him down.
“What this monster did exceeds any limit of humanity. I went through it. Julia went through it. But if I get my hands on everything he has, I can finally end this chapter. That's why I needed Luna. I can't legally inherit his empire if there is suspicion surrounding his death. The bastard fortified his will well."
I realize I’m almost spitting the last words out. The whole conversation drags up every moment he made me wish I’d never gotten up off the floor.
"Do you need help with anything?" Luna’s voice pulls me back. There’s no pity in her eyes, only quiet understanding, and for someone who’s survived monsters too, I find myself respecting her more.
"Ivan died last night. We need to go back to Russia to attend the funeral, but after we'll return here." Julia meets my eyes, searching for confirmation.
This is our clean break. Russia will be just another line in our past.
I give her a slight nod. We both need a place where the ground isn’t soaked with blood and memories.
"Why involve Tim?" Roman asks.
I don’t even get a chance to answer. Julia steps in again. "The guy drugged young women in clubs to take advantage of them. We needed someone to facilitate a meeting with Luna. The planwas to have Tim bring Luna to a meeting point and resolve everything then."
I know what we would have done with Tim after—a fate involving either a grenade or Julia’s submachine gun down his throat.
There are all kinds of monsters in our world, but the ones who prey on the weak, who need their victims helpless first, have earned a special spot in our arsenal of nightmares.
"How the hell do you know all these things?" Niko blurts, frustration warring with something like awe.
I almost laugh at the amazement in his voice. They have no idea how much I’ve learned just to keep an eye on them all these years.
I know where Victoria’s ballet studio is, and which song—Debussy’s “Clair de Lune”—she plays on repeat when she’s having a rough day. I know Roman rescued Niko’s secretary and the secret she’s hiding from him. Hell, I even know under which tree in that quiet park they all meet when a big decision looms.
“We’re pretty good with a keyboard and computer,” I admit, unable to hide the pride in my voice.
I’m about to turn and leave the office when Roman stops me with a question.
“When will you return here?”
I don’t know my brother that well—not really—but I recognize that tone. It’s the same one I use when I need something but don’t want to ask outright.
“You need something.” There’s no edge to my voice, just genuine curiosity.
“We have a mole, as you already know. I might need assistance in this area that you and Julia excel at. Luna won't be able to handle it alone.”
I can’t help the way my heart tightens, knowing he actually needs me, that he’s asking for my help straight out.
I glance at Julia. She gives me that warm look, the one that says she understands everything about what it means to finally have a real bond with a sibling. Just knowing I can help, that I’m no longer on the outside, does something strange to my chest.
“We need to leave now for the airport if we want to reach Moscow tonight,” Julia tells them, pressing a slip of paper into Roman’s hand. “If you need anything, you have our numbers here. We'll be back in two days.”
Together, we head toward the door.
Roman calls after us, “Any idea why your company would line the Irish's pockets to push us out?” My twin is suddenly all business, shoulders squared like he’s back in a boardroom.
I always knew Ivan had his fingers in a dozen companies in Russia, always looking for an in, never satisfied with the ground he already controlled.
“As you know, Ivan has connections with the Russian Bratva. Aleksandr is his nephew, and he handles everything that happens here. My suspicion is he wanted to steal the territory to impress Ivan.”
That reminds me that I have zero idea where Aleksandr is now. Last I heard from Akim, he wasn’t in Moscow, but I know he’s been told Ivan is dead. I’d bet my life Ivan left him nothing, which makes him unpredictable.
“I'll clean up with the Irish after the funeral,” I tell Roman, and I see his brow crease.
