almost died. Retaliation wasn’t a single option after I saw her bleeding out. I needed her in my life, alive, and without the tears that somehow made me feel powerless—which unfortunately meant I couldn’t just kidnap her again.
Killing her papa might push her away forever, and I refused to accept that. Though I couldn’t see Alexei dismissing his son’s murder. Fury washed through me at the impact it would cause. I couldn’t get Mila back while I was at war with her father.
Kostya clenched his teeth, but pain glittered in his eyes. “Dimitri was the one who killed Pasha on Alexei’s orders. And since you haven’t done anything but fuck his daughter, I took it into my own hands.”
I smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly one. I didn’t want to kill Kostya and leave Vadim with two deceased brothers, but there didn’t seem to be another option.
The knife slipped from Kostya’s fingers, his voice thick. “Pasha was my little brother . . .” A single tear ran down his bloody cheek. “I had to do it. And I’m ready to accept the punishment.”
He was ready to die for his brother. I glanced at mine, who watched me with a drily amused expression. He wanted to know how I was going to deal with this, because he and I would have done the same for one another.
Albert appeared in the doorway, his eyes grim above the shiner I’d given him earlier today. He’d accepted the punch as if it went along with a normal “thank you” before driving me here.
“We have guests,” he said.
He didn’t have to tell me who was visiting.
“Give us a minute,” I told Albert before shooting Kostya a hard look. “You’ve fucked up bad this time. Disobey my orders or talk about Mila in that way again, and I will end you myself in the most painful way I can think of.”
Kostya swallowed.
“Now get the fuck out of here,” I growled. “I’m so disgusted with you, if Alexei is here to kill you, I’ll let him.”
Kostya didn’t need to be told twice. He disappeared out the door, leaving a blood trail like crumbs.
A moment later, Albert returned with Alexei and Ivan in tow. My shoulders tensed at the sight of Mila’s papa. I’d almost killed him when he showed up in her hospital room—not for Pasha, but for Mila. She’d stumbled into my restaurant nearly a month ago and changed my perspective on everything.
Alexei stopped in the doorway and took a long look at his son’s head on the floor, a mixture of pain and rage crossing his face. The man looked like he’d aged twenty years in a single day.
He didn’t say a word as he moved to sit on the couch across from Kristian. Alexei had always voiced his disappointment in his sons. I’d even seen him shoot Dimitri in the thigh once for fucking up. I expected revenge on the simple principle. I did not expect the man to put his face in his hands and . . .
Alexei Mikhailov was crying.
It was awkward as fuck.
I met my brother’s gaze and nodded to Dimitri’s head, telling him to do something with it—like nudge it behind the couch. He didn’t. He gave me a dry look and sipped his vodka.
While Alexei was having his moment, Ivan leaned against the wall and stared daggers at me.
“Long time no see,” I drawled easily in Russian, then frowned in thought. “Although there was that one day you visited my home and left naked to crawl back to your owner . . .” My eyes narrowed. “And we can’t forget that other time where you almost killed Mila with your failed attempt to off me. But other than that, I’d say it’s been a while.”
His gaze hardened. “If you didn’t kidnap Mila, she would have never been in that position.”
Frustratingly true. “Maybe not. But we all know the position you want her in. Too bad you’d rather fuck Alexei than his daughter. Not that you would have had a shot with her anyway.”
I was sure I’d get a reaction from Alexei then, but the man was still immersed in awkward grieving.
Ivan shot a cautious look at Alexei before saying, “I could have had multiple shots. I just wasn’t interested.”
I laughed. He couldn’t have her, so now he wasn’t interested. “You know, you remind me of a two-faced bitch. I’m beginning to wonder if you even have a dick.”
“Because I chose Alexei’s side? You call me a bitch, but you’re