Tigran picks me up from my main apartment early the next morning. “You look like shit,” he says and shoves a coffee at me. “Drink this. Uncle Garen’s going to rip you to shreds.”
“More like Aunt Sona.”
He snorts. “Yeah, her too.” He pulls out into traffic. The double shot of espresso helps wake me up, but not enough.
I spent the night pacing around thinking about what to do with Lena, but didn’t come up with any good options.
“You know I gotta ask,” Tigran says, watching the road as he drives. “But the girl?”
“I took care of her.” Which is technically true. I gave her water and crackers, and I put a blanket around her.
“Then we’re good?”
“We’re good.” It doesn’t feel right, lying to my brother, but there’s no way around it. If he knew Lena was still alive, he’d turn this car around, head over to her apartment, and end her life.
Tigran’s a good man. He cares about the Brotherhood as much as I do. But he’s sometimes too loyal and too strict. There are no shades of gray with him, only what’s right and what’s wrong, and his moral compass always knows the right way to aim.
In his mind, Lena’s a loose end, and our position is too precarious to fuck around.
Is that what I’m doing? Fucking around?
“Then we have something to celebrate.” He lifts his coffee. “To a successful hit, the end of a war, and the future of the Brotherhood. To a brother coming into his own and the future of our family. To strength, honor, life—”
“Tigran,” I grumble at him. Leave it to an Armenian to take a toast too far.
He grins at me. “Cheers, brother.”
We touch our coffee cups together and I take a sip.
Tigran rolls his car into Greektown, a little neighborhood in the eastern part of the city. He parks in front of a greasy diner with blue trim around the outside and peeling decals in the windows. The place is crowded, though, and we’re greeted with a blast of hot air when we step inside and the crush of people eating, laughing, and waiting to be seated.
The waitress knows me and nods with her head toward the booth in the back. It’s already occupied and I steel myself as I head over. I’ve been dreading this meeting since Saro’s death, but it’s the next step toward finishing things and driving the Brotherhood into further prosperity.
Uncle Garen stands. He’s a stocky man with thin black hair, a cropped beard, and a smile like a salesman. He claps me in a tight hug and slaps my back even though a few weeks ago he would’ve happily shot me in the head. Aunt Sona’s a bit more standoffish; she doesn’t get to her feet, only nods at me with a tight frown. She and my father were close back before things went bad, and she hasn’t forgiven me for the part I played in his overthrow.
“Sit, sit,” Uncle Garen says. Tigran slides into the booth and leaves me on the outside. I scan the place and notice a few guys I know, some from my side of the family and some from Garen’s. They’re eyeing each other with barely restrained animosity. “I assume everything went well?”
“As well as it could,” Tigran says.
“You are good at killing family, aren’t you, Arsen?” Aunt Sona’s glare is pure icy loathing. “I never for a second thought you’d fail.”
“I do what I have to.” I stare right back. Give her an inch and she’ll claw my fucking eyes out. The only way to handle her is with strength. “As you’ve found out.”
Her lips curl into an angry sneer. “We’ve fought you to a standstill.”
“Only because Saro’s been making trouble. With him gone, I wonder why I need this meeting at all?”
“Easy, everyone,” Uncle Garen warns, sounding amiable. He puts a hand on his wife’s arm. “We’ve discussed this already.”
She sits back with a frustrated breath and turns her chin. “You know my feelings on the matter.”
“Why don’t you go sit at the counter while we finish things here?”
That woman fucking hates me. She slips away with one backward stare filled with pure vitriol. I’m going to have to watch my back until the day that she dies—I can’t imagine she’ll ever get over this.
Which is a shame. I loved Aunt Sona once. She used to give me twenty bucks every time I saw her, which was basically every day. I grew up with her around the house, and now she looks at me like I’m a monster.
Like my father didn’t deserve what he got.
“Excuse Sona. She’s still grieving your father.” Uncle Garen relaxes slightly. If Sona’s the brains of their partnership, he’s the charm and the violence. Even though his smile is easygoing and disarming, I’ve seen Uncle Garen’s vicious side. That man is a bear and a lion, and he doesn’t hesitate.
There’s a reason the family’s split between following me and staying with him.
“The job’s done,” I tell him flatly. “Saro’s not a problem anymore.”
“Then everything’s coming along.” Uncle Garen smiles and spreads his hands. “I always knew you had it in you, Arsen.”
“If that were true, you would’ve followed me from the start.”
“Now, now, we don’t have to do this again,” he says, lowering his voice. “You threw this family into chaos, boy. When you helped those nasty Russians murder your father, you dragged the Brotherhood into the mud. Now you have to clean it up, and nobody said that would be easy.”
Arrogant fuck. If he had only come to my side from the start, there wouldn’t have been so much struggle.
Months and months of fighting. One death for another. Territory disputes, businesses burned, drive-by shootings, and a few targeted killings. All that has led us here, to this table, with my father’s blood on my hands and my cousin’s body decomposing in the harbor.
“I did my part. Now it’s time for you to follow through on your word. Tell your men to stand down. Tell them I’m the rightful patron and you pledge your loyalty to me.”
He holds up a hand. “Not so fast. There’s the small issue of a marriage first.”
My lips twitch. Lena’s face flashes through my head. “I’m aware of the terms of our deal.”
“Don’t you want to know who I chose? She’s a nice girl, Arsen, I promise. Clever and pretty.”
“So long as we’re not related.”
Tigran laughs, trying to lighten the mood, and elbows me. “Come on, blood is best, right?”
I glare at him and my brother’s grin falters.
“She’s the daughter of a trusted advisor. Don’t worry. Only half-Armenian, but that’s good enough.”
“I want to get this farce over with as quickly as possible. The day I marry this girl is the day you pledge your loyalty in public. Do you understand?”
Uncle Garen nods. He’s deadly serious now. “I want this truce as well. You’ve proven yourself a capable leader, even if you’ve made some questionable decisions in the past.”
“Don’t forget that then.” I lean toward him, staring at my uncle hard. “The only reason I’m accepting this truce is because I’m tired of spilling Armenian blood. But we both know who stands to win if this war drags on.”
“Careful,” Uncle Garen warns gently.
“Tell the girl we’ll get married in a week.” I push myself from the booth. “Does that work?”
“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”
“I don’t give a shit what she feels.” I turn away from the booth, already sick of all this. “I just want it done.”
“Congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Arsen. You’ll be a fine husband.”
I frown at him before walking off. Tigran hurries to catch up. I push out onto the sidewalk and slam the car door, struggling to keep my rage in check.
“What was that back there? You sounded like you wanted to blow weeks of negotiations.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure about that? Threatening Garen isn’t exactly smart. We need him.”
“We don’t.”
“But we both know we do. Even if we can beat him in the long run, what would the Brotherhood look like once half our numbers are dead or banished? Focus on what we need to do.”
I know he’s right. I just don’t like it.
No part of me wants to marry this girl. I don’t care who she is. Uncle Garen’s little quip about me being a fine husband only makes my fucking blood boil, because we all know it isn’t true.
That’s not the kind of man I am. Maybe in another life, in another world, I could have the kind of emotional depth necessary to sustain a real, loving, committed relationship, but all of those feelings were cut out of me a long time ago. I touch the scars on my arm and stare out the window.
I’m too broken to have a wife.
But the girl will just be a figurehead. Just a body to end this war. I’ll walk the aisle, say the words, and that’ll be the end of it.
I couldn’t kill Lena last night, even though I should have. My responsibilities as the patron almost demand that I finish her off.
But at least I can follow through with this alliance, because I know it’s the right thing for my people, even if I hate it.
