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The further away from my father I can get, the better.
What irritates me—when it doesn’t scare me—is how he still manages to slip through the cracks of my persona. Small words, here and there, uttered before I have a chance to think about what I’m meaning to say in English. Grooming habits, like the way he oils his hair and meticulously manicures that thick beard of his.
The one time I let myself grow a beard, I sawhisface in the mirror. I shaved it off so fast I cut my cheeks to fucking ribbons.
“I figured you’d tucked tail and ran.” I keep my voice as calm and casual as possible.
“Feds didn’t give me much time to pack.” Oleg shrugs a shoulder and downs a shot of vodka. He chases it with a pickled egg.Disgusting.“Not if I wanted to keep my assets, anyways. They dug up so much shit with Tolya’s case, I didn’t need them sniffing around once they figured out my visa expired.”
I snort. “Wow. Big, bad Bratva boss couldn’t manage basic filing.”
“Shut your mouth and show some respect, boy. I didn’t come here to listen to your backtalk.”
“Whydidyou come here?”
Oleg does another vodka-egg shot and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Their fifteen-year ban against me just lifted a few weeks ago. Took me longer than I wanted to make arrangements, but the Feds are too busy chasing other criminals to notice an old bear loping back across the border.”
“I meant why did you comehere,Otets. You and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
He gives me a sidelong glance. “No, we’re not. But that needs to change, now that I’m back?—”
“If you’re thinking about reclaiming the Bratva, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Don’t worry,malyshonuk. I’ve done more than well enough back home. You can keep your little gang.”
The way he emphasizes the word “little” makes me want to backhand him off the stool. He’s always trying to one-up me, ensuring that he maintains his position as the “alpha” male in the family. I used to think it was because he wanted to keep Tolya and I in place as his sons, always second, always subservient.
It became obvious pretty fucking fast—when I took over the Bratva he abandoned—that it was because he’s not as confident in his leadership abilities as he wants everyone to think. He overcompensates on multiple levels.
Even though I was incredibly young at an unprecedented level when I stepped into Oleg’s shoes, I made it my mission to be a thousand times better than him.
Now, I don’t have to demand respect from the people around me—they just give it, willingly and without question.
Oleg turns in his seat to face me. “You want to know why I’m here? I’m here to get your brother out of prison.”
“How?” I scoff and gesture to the bartender for a bottle of beer. I need to slow down to keep what’s left of my wits around this asshole.
“I have my ways. Obviously better ones than yours, since you’ve failed to do even that.”
“What the fuck did you?—”
“Here you sit, drowning whatever fucking sorrows you think you have,” Oleg snarls in my face. He leans in close and keeps his voice low; I almost wish he’d burst into one of his infamous temper tantrums just so I’d have an excuse to chuck him across the goddamn room. “While your brother rots away behind bars.”
I smirk in his face. “He’s doing just fine,Otets. He’s had plenty of time to hit the gym and more than enough anger to fuel his workouts. They’re feeding him well, and he’s made plenty of friends. Don’t get me wrong—I want him out just as bad as you do. But he’s hardly suffering.”
Oleg studies me for a hard, long moment. “I see. I see you,malyshonuk, and I see right through you. You’d rather keep Tolya locked away so he won’t threaten your position among our men.”
“Mymen.MyBratva. I will never begrudge my own brother all the wealth and resources he rightfully deserves, but I worked my ass off to get where I am. Everything I have ismine.”
The second that word flies from my mouth, I feel bile threaten to quickly follow.
Not because I’m pretty drunk. But because the sound of that word reminds me of a similar proclamation I made to Clara Everett. About her. Alongside a promise—several promises, actually—that I’d never give her up to anyone else. Ever.
I used to think Oleg was the biggest fucking bastard on the planet.
Now, I think I’ve usurped him for that title as well.
“What do they say in this country?Slow your fucking roll.” Oleg laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “I was only kidding,malyshonuk. You shouldn’t be so serious all the time. It’s bad for your blood pressure.”
