NIKOLAI
The wind whistles around me as I stare up at the Soviet Era building in the middle of St. Petersburg. It’s huge and elegant, with columns at the front and so many fucking windows it’s like the eyes of Russia are watching. I hope fucking not, not for this meeting.
Luckily for us, it’s now an exclusive gentlemen’s club where deals are made and secrets stay buried.
“You sure about this, Nik? Sure Volkov can be trusted?” Dima asks from beside me, his voice gruff as he looks around us, mistrust in his gaze.
“No, but what choice do we have? We need help to take down Sergi, and Alexei has his own need for us,” I answer, squaring my shoulders and heading inside.
I’m greeted by a host, a young woman who doesn’t check for weapons, which is surprising, but they either are confident no one would start trouble or they just don’t care. She takes me to the private room that Dima swept for bugs earlier this morning. The tension as we enter lets me know that Alexei and his men are already here, and when the host steps aside, I see him lounging in a leather wingback chair on one side of the roaring fireplace with a chessboard in front of him. There is also a bottle of unopened vodka and two frosty glasses.
His two men stand on either side of him, and it surprises me to find that neither looks immediately Russian, no typical Russian tattoos like myself, Dima and Alexei have. One has skin the colour of driftwood at midnight, his eyes a bright piercing blue, and I get the feeling he sees everything. He’s staring at me with a slight tilt to his lips.
Something about his eyes looks familiar, but I can’t quite place them. The other man has dark hair and a devilish grin on his face. With his thick arms crossed over his chest, his black shirt seems ready to burst at the seams.
“Nikolai, good to see you again,” Alexei greets, a feline grace about him as he stands up, hand outstretched. “These are my associates, DeAndre Washington and Riordan Sullivan.”
Both men give me a nod, but don’t speak.
“Pleased to meet you. This is Dima Ivanov. My other man is dealing with some other business, so it’s just us this morning,” I tell Alexei, and he inclines his head, holding out his arm in a sign for me to sit in the other chair.
“Excellent. Now that the introductions are done with, shall we get down to business?” Alexei asks, taking his seat and reaching for the bottle. “How rude of me, I almost forgot to ask. How is dear Roman? And Iris? I hope they are finding Russia to their liking. That cabin you have is rather large, enough for the other key members of the Shadowmen, so I assume they are enjoying their stay so far.”
My breath stills inside my chest, his grey eyes fixed on me and that slightly crazed smirk playing on his lips. The sound of the fire crackles, the twist of the cap from the vodka the only sounds in the room.
“Now that you know I know all of your secrets, I shall tell you one of mine so that we are even and can get past the whole trust bullshit,” Alexei says, pouring me a glass and then himself. “You may know me by another name, as well as my associates, and I don’t need to tell you that the number of people who know our true identities is tiny, almost nonexistent, in fact.” He looks up at me, and something familiar about his grey irises and silver hair tickles the back of my mind. “If you share them with anyone other than your immediate circle, i.e. the people in that cabin in the woods you have, then you will all die. Horribly.”
“Understood,” I reply, my palms sweating as I hold his unnerving gaze. My stomach is tight, a chill washing over me as the knowledge that he knows impossible things sinks in.
“I am known as Belial. To my left is Azazel, and my right is our glorious leader, Lucifer.”
It’s like all the air rushes from the room, because now I know how he knew all those things that no one should. Before me is The Fallen. What these men don’t know…well, it doesn’t exist because they know everything, if the rumours are to be believed.
“You are The Fallen,” I state, just to confirm with him.
“The very same,” he replies, picking up his glass and giving me a small salute with it before knocking back the vodka. “So now we both know something about the other that could prove hazardous to our plans. Shall we get down to how we kill our fathers and usher into a new era?”
Fuck. He really is as crazy as they say. Just dropping bombs like confetti at a party.
“Okay,” I say, my voice unwavering, even though my insides are in turmoil. “Aside from the fact that my cunt of a father kidnapped and raped Iris for three weeks, he’s becoming more greedy and paranoid by the day, grasping at all and any information that gives him a hand up, killing innocents with no thought, eroding connections, and ruling with fear because he understands nothing of loyalty. His methods are outdated, he refuses to embrace any new technology, and is giving the Bratva a bad name.”
Alexei smiles that creepy fucking smile at me. “I hear congratulations are in order too. I just keep making these faux pas, don’t I?” He laughs, and it makes all the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end. That and the fact that, yet again, he knows something that should be a secret. “My sperm donor is similar, a dinosaur, never mind his recent blunders in the Caucasus region, which lost us millions.” His jaw tightens and his lips pull back, baring his teeth. It’s fucking terrifying. “The old ways, and thus our fathers, are becoming a liability.”
“Agreed,” I answer, reaching for my glass and taking a sip of my drink. The vodka burns in the way that only top shelf does. “I recently came across some evidence, not just incriminating for Sergi, but for Viktor as well.”
Alexei raises a brow, though I would be surprised if he doesn’t know about his father skimming from the Russian government’s defence contracts the Volkov’s have.
Dima hands me the folder I prepared with all the evidence to see Viktor arrested by the Federal Security Service—the successors of the KGB and just as ruthless, especially when someone has tried to fuck over the government.
Alexei takes the folder, setting down his glass and opening it. His eyebrows raise, a small, dark chuckle falling from his lips.
“We’ll be having the Trials soon. You should think of applying. This is good intelligence gathering and not something we knew,” he muses as he reads. His brows are raised, a hint of perhaps pride in his tone. I’ve heard of the Trials to become one of The Fallen. You pass or you die.
“As much as I’m flattered by your offer, I intend to settle down once this issue has been dealt with,” I reply, and his lips twist into a grin.
“Yes, I suppose you’ll be a father, well, brother technically, and I hear newborns are hard work.” His eyes are still on the file, but there’s that manic grin playing around his lips again. I tighten my hand around the glass, taking a deep breath through my nostrils. I fucking hate that he knows so much, but then given who he is, I’m not surprised. Alexei reaches into a black briefcase beside him, taking out a similar folder to the one I handed him. “Here’s all you need to prove that Sergi has been a very naughty boy indeed, dealing with certain terrorist groups that are banned, even by the Russian government.”
I take the folder, my heart thudding inside my chest. This, along with all the other evidence I’ve got against him, should be more than enough to sever his ties with the only people who might offer him protection outside of his men—who I’ve turned to my side. Half anyways. I want to handle this myself, but with this, I believe I can reach an agreement with the relevant parties to switch over their support to me and not intervene when I make my move.
“I believe a combined strategy would work best. That way, neither one of them can seek the help of the other, or take control of the other’s assets,” I suggest, shifting in my seat. Everything in me says that Alexei differs from our sires, more like me, but he’s a wild card, unstable according to all the rumours of his time in jail.
“Agreed,” he answers, and the tightness inside my chest loosens a little. “Winter is coming.” He giggles, and I swear babies die at the sound. I’ve no fucking idea why he’s laughing. It’s a fact, winter is approaching. “Which is when business usually slows down, so it’ll be the perfect time for a coup.” He’s placed the folder on his lap, and now rubs his hands in glee, that fucking smile which promises death on his lips. “The FSS will let me dispose of Viktor, how I choose, and what masterpiece I shall make of him.”
A shiver threatens to overtake me, but I hold it in. “As they should with Sergi once I give them everything I have.”
We all freeze as the door opens, a waiter in a white shirt and a long, black apron tied around his waist enters with a tray that has a selection of nibbles on it. My hand moves over to my gun holster at my hip, and I spot, out of the corner of my eye, Dima doing the same, as does Alexei and the others.
“I thought I said that we were not to be disturbed?” Alexei says, his tone dark and menacing. The waiter pauses, the plates on the tray clinking as his body shakes.
“A–apologies, I w–was told to bring these up for y–you,” he stammers out. He doesn’t look like someone who our fathers may have sent. He’s young and frankly fucking terrified. Although, if he’s been trained his whole life, it’s not a stretch to think that this could be an act.
“By who?” I question, and his head snaps to me, his throat bobbing as he swallows.
“M–my b–boss, s–sir,” he stutters, his face drained of all colour.
“Well, we don’t want anything, so take it away,” Alexei says, his body coiled like a snake watching its prey as he stares at the young man.
The guy says nothing else, just spins on his heel and rushes out of the door.
“Azazel,” Lucifer growls out, his voice like the rumble of thunder.
Azazel follows the man out of the door, presumably to make sure he doesn’t actually know anything, or isn’t a spy.
“Where were we?” Alexei says, lounging back in his chair, all tension gone. I take a breath to calm my racing heart, the adrenaline draining out of me slowly but still leaving me on high alert. “Ah yes, patricide.” He giggles again, and I know at least some of the rumours of his madness are true. “I suggest we put in place a dead man’s switch, just in case anything happens to either of us before our plan comes into effect. I’ll give a copy of the evidence, sealed of course, about Sergi to a trusted associate with instructions to release to the federal authorities if anything happens to me. And you do the same.”
It’s a clever suggestion. As well as ensuring everything goes ahead regardless of what happens to either of us, this way, neither of us can betray the other without consequences.
“Agreed, and to just be clear, we are taking over what our fathers have, the territories that they already hold. No more, no less.” My tone is firm. I want to put a stop to this ridiculous rivalry between our families. It’s partly why we haven’t moved forward, because our sires are so focused on taking from each other they’re not looking at improving what we already have.
“Agreed. I don’t need nor do I want any more responsibility. My hands are rather full as you can imagine,” Alexei states, picking up a chess piece, the queen I believe, and idly playing with it in his inked fingers. “I suggest a three-month timeframe just to get all our ducks in a row.” Again, that giggle, which sends shivers down my spine. “Azazel will establish some secure channels of communication so we can stay in touch. He’s a whizz with technology.”
The man himself walks back through the door, a hint of red on his knuckles that I don’t care to know the answer to how it got there. He gives Lucifer a small nod, then resumes his position behind Alexei. The situation with the waiter has clearly been dealt with.
Three months should give me time before the baby is born. It’ll be close, as Iris is six months now, but I still have pieces to put into place, resources to gather, and loyalty to win before I dispose of Sergi.
“Agreed.”
“Oh!” Alexei exclaims, his eyes gleaming as he sits up. “Let’s do it on New Year’s Eve! I love to celebrate the new year with some bloodshed, and it’s a new era after all, new beginnings and all that.”
He’s practically bouncing with excitement, and honestly, it’s just another terrifying thing about the man. Don’t get me wrong, I will take great joy in watching my father’s face as his world comes tumbling down before I end him—or help Iris end him as she deserves a piece of him too for what he took from her—but there’s a difference between the satisfaction I’ll get and the look of sheer excitement in Alexei’s pale eyes.
“Okay, New Year’s Eve it is,” I agree, my mind already racing with what I’ll have to get done before then.
“Excellent!” he crows, my blink the only sign of my surprise at the sudden noise. There is definitely something wrong with Alexei Volkov. “A toast then, to celebrate our new friendship.” He pulls out three more small glasses from fuck knows where, sets them on the table, and fills each of them to the brim with vodka, including ours. “Za nashu pobedu,” he says with a dangerous smile, raising his glass as the men behind him reach for theirs and copy the move.
I pick up my glass, the weight of it feeling heavier than the shot that it contains. Our agreement hangs between us, the deal we’re making is abhorrent in the normal scheme of things, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and Sergi’s reign of terror needs to end. It’s the only way Iris will be safe. That our unborn child will be safe. Our family. “Za nashu pobedu,” I echo, clinking my glass against Alexei’s.
To our victory.
We all bring our glasses to our lips, then drink in the traditional Russian way—the entire glass in one swift motion, followed by a moment of silence. My pulse races around my body, my mind still unbelieving that this is finally happening after all these years.
Alexei sets his glass upside down on the wooden table to show it’s empty. There’s a finality to the gesture. I do the same; the others following until all five glasses are there, glinting in the firelight.
The deal is agreed, our fates now intertwined.
And Sergi’s and Viktor’s are now sealed.
