Kat
Ana bounces up the stairs, her excitement barely contained as she reaches the second floor.
“Which one is mine?” she asks impatiently.
I gesture down the hallway. “Come see.”
She grabs Camille’s hand again and practically drags her along, her little legs working double time trying to keep up with Camille’s long strides. When we reach the room Pavel suggested, I push open the door, stepping aside so she can take it all in.
The moment Ana sees it, she gasps. “Whoa.”
The space is airy and bright, the large windows allowing natural light to pour in. The view is amazing, the towers of Midtown peeking up from behind the city in the distance.
Ana beelines for the windows. “I can see everything!”
Camille chuckles, resting a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “It is quite a view.”
“We’ll have it decorated however you want. And Uncle Vlad is going to make sure all your toys and things are brought here later today. Do you like it?”
Ana spins around, a big, beaming smile taking up her entire face. “I love it.” She hops onto the bed, bouncing once before flopping onto her back with a satisfied sigh. “It’s so comfy.”
I laugh. “Good, because you’re going to be spending a lot of time here.”
She shoots up onto her elbows, suddenly serious. “Do I really get to stay here forever?”
My breath catches. There’s so much she doesn’t know, so much we haven’t told her yet. “For as long as you want, sweetheart.”
That seems to be enough for now.
Camille watches her fondly before giving me a knowing look. “You did well.”
I exhale, relieved. “I hope so.” I nod toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go see your room.”
Camille follows me to the room next door. I take in her reaction carefully as she surveys the space. The moment she spots the reading nook—a cozy alcove with built-in shelves and a deep window seat—her eyes light up. “This is…” she trails off, stepping farther inside. “It’s lovely.”
“You like it?”
She runs her fingers along the shelves before turning toward the ensuite. The moment she peeks inside, I hear her gasp. “That tub,” she muses. “I might never leave.”
I smirk. “That was the idea.”
Camille turns to me, appreciation softening her usually composed features. “Thank you, Kat, truly.”
I give her a warm hug. She deserves it. “You’ve taken care of Ana for a long time. It’s the least we can do.”
She returns the embrace. “I’ll make sure she settles in.”
We head back to Ana’s room. “I need to meet with Pavel and Vlad. Stay close?”
Camille nods. “Of course.”
I slip out into the hallway, my thoughts tangled. My daughter is finally safe and home with me where she belongs, but the weight of everything else going on crashes down the moment I step outside that little cocoon.
I pause at the top of the stairs, my hand tightening on the railing. I should have told Pavel about Ana sooner. I almost did more than once. But now we have another baby on the way. Springing two children on him in one day feels like too much.
Ana’s arrival alone has turned his world upside down. Adding another layer right now could push him over the edge, but is there ever going to be a perfect time to tell him about the baby?
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shaking off the hesitation. One problem at a time. Right now, I have to focus on what’s in front of me. If what Darya said is true—if Piotr orchestrated not only the Bratva war but also our parents’ deaths—then we’re facing something far worse than I ever imagined.
I make my way down the hall. The door to Pavel’s office is slightly ajar, and I can hear the low murmur of voices inside. He and Vlad are already talking. With a quick breath, I raise my hand and knock before pushing the door open.
Inside, the room is bathed in the golden glow of the lamp on Pavel’s desk. He stands near the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Vlad leans against a bookshelf, his own drink loosely in his grasp. Both men turn as I enter.
“Kat,” Pavel says, setting his glass down. “We were just about to call you.”
Vlad lifts his drink in a half-salute. “Hey, sis.”
I clear my throat. “Sorry for taking so long. I just wanted to make sure Ana and Camille were settled.”
“How are they?” Vlad asks.
“Good, I think,” I reply, “considering they were both moved across the city without any notice.”
The corner of Pavel’s mouth lifts slightly. “She’s a good kid,” he says, almost to himself. “I’m glad she’s here, where she’s safe.” His jaw twitches, darkness shadowing his features, and I know he’s thinking of Piotr’s involvement.
“I am, too,” I step farther into the room. “So, I guess it’s time to talk.”
Pavel gestures for me to sit. “Would you like a drink?” he asks.
“No, thanks,” I say. “My stomach’s in knots.”
Between the worry over Piotr, the baby I haven’t told him about, and the swirl of guilt about how this day went down, alcohol is not an option.
Vlad raises an eyebrow. “You’re passing on whiskey?” He tries for a teasing tone, but it falls flat. He knows me well enough to register something’s off. I’m not known to refuse a glass of bourbon.
I force a half-smile. “I’d just rather be clearheaded right now.”
Pavel nods, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler. “Alright then. Let’s get to it.”
I claim one of the armchairs while Vlad remains standing. There’s an unease in the air, and I’m eager to get the conversation started.
“Vlad,” Pavel begins, “you and I have always gotten along. Even when Kat and I parted ways years ago, you never treated me like an enemy.”
Vlad nods his head slowly, acknowledging the statement. “I always believed you were decent, despite what Piotr said.”
Something about that sentence rattles me. Despite what Piotr said. He’s been poisoning the well for a long time.
Pavel continues. “I’m going to tell you something you’re not going to like.” He spares me a glance, and I know exactly what he means. He’s about to disclose the conversation with Darya and what she revealed about Piotr.
Vlad straightens. “If this is about the attacks, I’m already on board. I know Piotr arranged them. Darya might have confirmed it, but we’ve had suspicions for a while. The men targeted were in smaller shops in Fetisov territory, not Andreev. It was meant to create discord, to weaken your influence.”
“So you believe that part,” Pavel says, a bit surprised.
Vlad nods grimly. “Yes. Piotr’s never hidden his desire to expand. He wants to push you out. I’ve had my doubts about whether he’d go as far as staging attacks, but I’m not surprised.”
I exhale a sigh of relief.
Then Vlad’s gaze shifts to me. “Kat, you must have suspected something. Why else sneak around to find information? You brought Darya here, after all.”
I purse my lips. “I suspect Piotr is capable of a lot more, of things we don’t know about,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “He used Ana as leverage against me, so there’s no question he’s willing to cross lines. But what Darya said was…” I let my words trail off, glancing at Pavel for help.
He picks up the thread. “She implied Piotr might have had a hand in your parents’ deaths.”
Vlad recoils, disgust taking over his expression. “That’s bullshit.”
The abruptness of his response is like a punch to my stomach. He’s never accepted that Piotr could be involved. He’s always tried to see the best in him—even after everything he’s done.
“It’s what she overheard,” Pavel clarifies. “He was bragging about how young he was when he became pakhan, how he ‘helped it along,’ insinuating your father’s death wasn’t just an accident. That’s all we know.”
Vlad looks at me as if asking me to refute what Pavel just said. I purse my lips and give him a pleading look, watching the light nearly go out in my brother’s eyes.
Pavel rakes a hand through his hair. “I never believed your father’s accident was random, but we’ve always suspected outside involvement. The Novikov Bratva or some other group that wanted to break the alliance, never Piotr.”
Vlad shakes his head vehemently. “You’re telling me my own brother killed the man who raised him? Our father? That’s…” His voice breaks for a second. “That’s insane.”
I lean forward; my hands clasped tightly in my lap. “Vlad, you know he’s changed. We all know. He’s not the boy we grew up with who cared about alliances and bridging our families. He’s a different person now. He has been for a long time.”
Vlad presses his lips into a thin line. “It’s one thing to orchestrate attacks in order to push you out of power. But to murder our parents? That’s monstrous.”
“Exactly,” I say. “And that’s why I don’t want to believe it either. But with what we know, it is possible.”
“We have no proof other than Darya’s word,” Pavel says. “And it sounds like she’s not even sure what she heard. But just think about it for a minute. If he is working with Viktor Novikov or some other faction that wants to see us both weakened, it’s not that big of a stretch to doing something as extreme as removing your father from power.”
Vlad’s face contorts with anger. “He’s convinced your father or someone in your family had a hand in it. That’s been his story for years.’
“I loved your parents, Vlad. They were like a second family to me. I’d never—” He clenches his jaw. “You know me better than that.”
Vlad exhales sharply, running his hand over his face. “I do, but Piotr doesn’t, or at least he pretends he doesn’t. He’s been on a warpath about the Fetisovs’ guilt forever.”
“He’s the one who told me your family killed my parents, which gave me all kinds of reasons not to trust you. For a while, I believed him,” I quietly admit.
Pavel turns to me slowly. “But now you know better.”
I swallow hard. “I do.”
Vlad sighs heavily, setting his whiskey down on the nearest shelf. “What exactly are you asking me to do here? Accept that my brother could have murdered my parents?”
Pavel takes a deep breath before speaking. “No, not just accept it. We want you to look into it. Discreetly. See if you can uncover anything. If we confront him outright with no evidence, he’ll just spin it. But if we have something tangible…”
Vlad clenches his hands into fists at his sides. “That would make him a traitor and guilty of patricide, the worst kind of scum.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want it to be true either. But we have to face the possibility.”
He stares at me, eyes burning with fury. “Darya said all of this?”
Pavel nods. “Yes. She was here. She refused my protection and left. We can’t force her to confirm or clarify anything further, that’s if she even lives much longer. Piotr will be after her soon, I would imagine.”
Vlad rakes a hand through his hair again, staring out the window. “Fine. I’ll go home. I’ll watch him, ask nondescript questions. I’ll tread carefully. But if he did kill our parents…”
I stand and approach my brother, placing a hand on his arm. “Be careful. He’s already used Ana to threaten me. Who knows what he’ll do if he suspects you’re snooping around.”
He looks at me with haunted eyes. “I will.” Then he turns to Pavel, extending a hand. Pavel takes it, the handshake is brief but firm.
“Keep me informed,” Pavel says quietly.
Vlad nods. “Of course.”
Before he leaves, he brushes a kiss against my cheek. “I don’t know where this is headed, Kat,” he whispers, “but I’ll protect you and Ana, no matter what.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Thank you.”
He offers me a tight, sad smile, then slips out the door. The air instantly feels cold in his absence.
I feel helpless. The possibility that my own brother murdered our parents, that he’s a traitor to our family and the Bratva, and that we’re standing on the precipice of a war with him, is all too much to bear.
Ana is safe for now, but at what cost? We’ve escalated the conflict by taking her away. He’ll be furious when he finds out she’s living with us. A warm hand settles on my shoulder. I turn, blinking back tears. Pavel is looking at me with warm concern in his eyes.
“Kat,” he says, and that’s all it takes for my composure to shatter.
A sob escapes before I can choke it back. I hate how vulnerable I feel. “I’m sorry,” I manage, my voice quivering, “for all of this.”
He pulls me into a tight hug. It’s warm and solid, and right now, it’s exactly what I need.
