Page 44 of Cruel Russian King
“Since when did my side of the story matter when I'm a villain in everyone's eyes?” I snapped.
“It does to me,” she said softly.
My eyes narrowed.
“Artyom, please.”
That soft plea together with the look in her eyes loosened my tongue.
“Two years ago, Lev came to me for Vera’s hand, offering the Eastern European smuggling route as his negotiation. That route had been on my radar for years, so I accepted.
When Lev didn’t show up to the wedding, it wasn’t just an insult, it felt like he was spitting in my face, saying Vera, whohehad chosen, was no longer worth binding himself to. I’d already begun laying the groundwork with the cartel, using that route. When Lev changed his mind, it fractured my alliance, costing me millions.”
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“And then, to make matters worse, he had the audacity to call and tell me that he wanted to fix his mistake and annul his and Katya's marriage, and marry Vera instead. But he changed his mind…again…knocked Katya up and left me with a ruined deal. Do you know what came after?”
It was a rhetorical question but she answered anyway.
“No, tell me.”
Through clenched teeth I continued, “For months, the cartel didn’t just threaten me. They threatened my brothers and sisters. Lev’s betrayal put targets on all their backs. His choice cost me more than money….it cost me power, respect. And in this life, without those things, you’re already dead.”
I expected her to defend Lev but she didn't. Her eyes softened. “Is the cartel still after you and your siblings?”
“No, I was able to execute him, before he executed me.”
She didn’t even flinch. Ninel sat there as if I’d told her the recipe to a damn cake, not confessed to ending a man’s life.
I’d seen Bratva men wives break with less…seen them try to mold outsiders into our world, only to watch them shatter under the pressure of the blood and violence. But Ninel? She absorbed it. Accepted it. Because she was one of us.
It struck me then how much I craved this. Craved her.
How much I needed a wife who wouldn’t recoil from the truth of what I was. The monster I had to be. Someone who could look at me, covered in blood, and still see me…want me…
The only thing she sees is an evil son of a bitch, Artie. That's all you'll ever be to a woman. Fucking accept it. I trained to be a damn killer. Not some fucking emotional fratboy.
Ninel's voice yanked me back to the present. “Will there be a blow back from their allies? Do you still have to watch your back and your siblings’ from the cartel?”
It didn't go over my head that Ninel didn't just listen to respond, she listened to understand why I wanted revenge on her brothers. And with each question she asked and each soft gaze of understanding that she gave I felt my control slipping.
“For every one person we kill there is a possibility that at least two of their allies retaliate. But as a faction leader, I'm on top of it.”
I didn’t tell her that my parents’ deaths weren’t some tragic accident, but the result of a negotiation gone to hell. That the bastard my father trusted turned on him at the last moment, sold him out and aligned with another organization, leaving my father standing alone in the crosshairs of fury.
I swore then that I’d never let myself or my siblings end up the same way.
In our world, a man’s word is his fucking bond. Break it, and you’re nothing but a walking corpse waiting for the bullet. I may be a manipulative bastard, but I live by a code. A code that had helped me to keep myself and my siblings alive this fucking long.
“And with Jaroslav,” she said hesitantly. “Why are you angry with him?”
“He kidnapped Vera, made her believe that she was responsible for Lev's decision to marry Katya. When I realized that Vera had gone missing I tore through Vegas inside-out looking for her.”
I leaned back and closed my eyes as I remembered the helplessness I felt thinking that the cartel had taken her. How Ihad to keep Kira preoccupied because she was in her last year of college. If anything had happened to Vera I knew Kira would break.
My voice was cold when I spoke again. “Because Lev and Jaroslav couldn’t handle their business like men, their games made me look weak. Without a clean negotiation, without respect on paper, the founding families started to whisper, to question if I had lost my edge, if I deserved my position.”
I strummed my fingers against the wheel wanting her to understand.
