Page 186 of Tarnished Tyrant (Zhukova Bratva 1)

“He doesn’t suspect?”

I frown. “I don’t think so. But… the two men you sent are dead. I don’t know what you heard about what happened, but he killed them.”

“That’s what I get for not sending my best,” Xena says. She doesn’t sound especially put-out. More like she misplaced her car keys than sent two of her own mafia members to their deaths.

After weeks of talking to her, I’m not too surprised. From what I can gather, living in this world—a hellscape filled with Bratvas and mafias and death—skews your emotional range towards apathy. There’s too much horrible shit going on all the time to get upset about any of it.

“But you’re okay?” she adds.

“I’m not hurt.”

I haven’t been “okay” since Iceland. Xena knows that. It’s why she stayed in touch even after she handed me two plane tickets to Oklahoma City.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” she said the first time she called my phone. “If my brother thinks Nikolai is still hung up on you, I don’t know what he’ll do. So you have to tell me if Nikolai reaches out.”

“Can’t I just ignore him?” I had asked. Even though I’d had more than enough experience with the man, I was still naive. Somehow convinced it was possible to ignore Nikolai Zhukova.

“No,” Xena said, “you can’t. If he reaches out again, let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

Which is why, when Nikolai kidnapped me and brought me back to New York City, Xena was the only person I told. I snuck her a message as soon as I could, and she came up with a plan within the hour.

“I’m so glad to hear from you,” she says now. “I hoped you’d call, but I didn’t actually expect to hear from you so soon. I expected Nikolai to keep a closer eye on you."

“He did. Or he would have, probably. Something came up.”

“What?” Xena asks.

He confessed his love for me, and I stood there mute and dumbstruck.

“I’m not sure,” I lie. “But he’s out of the house. That's why I called. Are we still good for everything?"

"Of course. We had a minor hiccup, but I promised I'd take care of you."

I hear the echo of Nikolai saying the same thing. Yesterday morning, I thought it was because I was pregnant. That Nikolai only wanted to take care of me because I was carrying his baby. It probably had something to do with his bloodline and creating an heir or whatever-the-fuck. I was a means to an end.

But now? Now, I don't know what I think.

He loves me.

Does that change things?

"So the plan hasn't changed?" I ask.

"No," Xena says. "I'll obviously need to orchestrate another pickup for you, but the plan is the same."

New identities. A new life in Canada. Money to start over.

When Xena first suggested the idea, I shut it down. "I can't move to Canada. I've barely even been out of the Midwest," I argued.

"All the more reason to go," Xena insisted. "It will make you harder to track. And believe me—you want to be difficult to track."

Between the little Nikolai and Xena had each told me, I learned about what Giorgos had done to gain power. If he could kill his own parents in order to become the boss, what would he be willing to do to me?

“You there, Belle?” Xena asks. "I'm sticking my neck out for you. I need to know if you're going to pull out."

"I'm not going to pull out."

She sighs. Even without seeing my face, she can tell I'm torn. "You're living in his house now. You can't let him get to you. He's manipulative."

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