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I find myself in the bizarre position of facing off against my own friends, with my enemies by my side.
The truth is, I like Kade Petrov better than Bodashka, and I fucking despise Vanya and his father, who are conniving rats, always trying to improve their own standing within the Bratva by tearing down those above them.
I only met Dominik Petrov for a moment, but he seemed like a man of honor. Besides, Ivan Petrov is one of the most feared bosses in all the Bratva. He controls the entirety of St. Petersburg, as well as massive holdings in America where he capitalized upon the legalization of marijuana to open seven of the largest dispensaries on the west coast. I highly doubt his brother would be stupid enough to embezzle money from him, or whatever the fuck Vanya’s trying to imply.
“Back off,” I snarl at Vanya. “If the high table has a problem with Dominik Petrov, then they’ll convene a council.”
“They are,” Vanya smirks. “My father is heading it.”
“Then let them decide if there’s been any malfeasance. It’s not up to you to make accusations.”
“Why are you defending him?” Bodashka says, glaring at Kade. “He and his brother are both the same. Arrogant. Grasping. Above their station.”
“You’re just mad because Adrik beatyourbrother in theQuartum Bellumthree years in a row,” Ares says, staring down Bodashka.
The petty rivalries amongst the Bratva are almost as vicious as those against their foreign foes. There’s antipathy between St. Petersburg and Moscow, between the Paris Bratva and London, and intense jealousy against our brethren in the States.
I’m not familiar with the drama Ares is referencing, but I’m sure he’s right.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve gotten enough shit from the children of Bratva over my own family’s standing. I’m not gonna watch Vanya heap the same abuse on Kade’s shoulders.
“Keep your ignorant opinions to yourself,” I say to Vanya, who has climbed to his feet once more, his handsome features distorted with anger. “It’s none of your concern how the Petrovs run their business.”
“It’s you that should watch yourself,Dmitry,”Vanya sneers. “You ought to learn where to make allies. The Antonovs are risingin Moscow. If you pay your respects, I might find a place for you when Danyl makes me lieutenant.”
I snort. “I’ll find a place for you shining my boots whenIearn that spot.”
Vanya opens his mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Snow clapping his hands sharply, calling the class to order.
“My apologies,” he says. “I was delayed by the Chancellor. I hope you all took the opportunity to warm up, because we’re going directly into drills. Pair up.”
I nod to Kade Petrov. “Want to join me?”
“Sure,” he says, surprised but gratified. I haven’t voluntarily sparred with him before—it’s usually Snow who rotates the more experienced fighters through the younger students.
Snow orders us to grab pads. I slip the targets on my hands so Kade can go first for the drill.
I take him through a jab, hook, cross combo. Kade punches the pads viciously, exorcizing his residual animosity against Vanya.
“Never mind him,” I say to Kade. “He’s a fucking asshole, everyone knows it.”
Kade throws me half a grin. “I thought that’s what everybody says aboutyou. How come you stood up for me?”
“I may hate everybody, but I hate Vanya the most,” I shrug.
Kade laughs. He hits the pads in combination again, hard enough that my palms sting. His punches are getting cleaner.
“You drop that right shoulder too much,” I tell him.
Kade tries again, this time keeping his shoulder in better alignment. His punch pops the center of the pad with a satisfyingthwack.
“You’re a good teacher,” Kade says. “Like Snow.”
“I’m not like him,” I say. “I’d never have the patience to teach a bunch of degenerates.”
Particularly Bodashka and Vanya, who are lazily going through the drill with sullen glares in our direction.
Glancing at Kade again, at his clear, youthful face, I think how passionate he was in defending his father and brother.
