Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 167

Fyodor’s looking down now, so I have no idea what he’s thinking. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have any idea even if he was looking right at me.

“You’re right, brother,” Fyodor whispers. “You’re right about everything. I did promise to make you my successor.”

Kirill is staring at me in shock. I just shake my head.

“Tell me: what changed your mind?” Vadim demands. “Why did you choose the boy over the man? After everything I had done to take care of you and your Bratva…”

Fyodor raises his head. There’s a wealth of emotion in his eyes and I can only pick out some. Sadness, definitely. Anger, yes. Regret, perhaps?

“The truth?”

Vadim’s eyes teeter to mine for only a moment before he wrenches them back to Fyodor. “Yes, the truth. It’s the least you can do for me now.”

Fyodor sighs. “At the end of the day… he is my son.”

Fuck. I’m not sure if it’s a terrible reason or the best one yet. I suppose it depends on which side of fatherhood you’re on.

Vadim nods. “I didn’t understand then. But I suppose, now, I do.”

I frown. “Why?”

“What do I always say?” he asks.

“Family is everything.”

He nods. “Exactly. Family is everything. I have always believed that and I always will.” A chill spreads through me as I start to put together the last piece of the puzzle.

How can I have been so damn blind?

“You chose your son, brother,” Vadim explains to Fyodor. “And I chose mine.”

“Adrik,” I whisper.

Kirill’s mouth is hanging open and Fyodor looks completely floored. “N-no,” Fyodor stammers. “That’s not possible. We knew his parents. Elisa and Gustav were friends.”

Vadim chuckles darkly. “They were your friends. I guess you could say that I was a lot closer to Elisa than I was to Gustav.”

“Blyat’,” Fyodor croaks. “All these years… you had a son…”

“I didn’t find out myself until the boy was a teenager. Elisa told me just before the cancer took her. Gustav had already been gone for years. The boy had only me.”

“You should have told me.”

“Why?” Vadim scowls. “So you could turn my only son into your son’s stooge, just like you did to me? I wanted more for him than to play second fiddle. I didn’t want him to live in someone else’s shadow his entire life like I have.”

Both brothers are glaring at each other now. It’s strange to see two old men, both closer to the ends of their lives than the beginnings, with so much hate and sorrow in their hearts.

Vadim clears his throat. “When it came down to it, you chose your son over me. I did the same. You can’t fault me for that.”

“Actually, I can,” I spit, getting to my feet.

Vadim watches me rise. I have no idea if all that calm is coming from confidence or if he’s simply play-acting like he has been from the beginning.

“Are you going to kill me, nephew?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

I glance at Kirill and give him a decided nod. He doesn’t stride forward the way he normally would. This time, he’s slow and uncertain, checking the pulse of the room as he approaches the man who betrayed us all.

“Ruslan, wait,” Fyodor protests, turning his somber eyes on me. “Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. He betrayed me. He betrayed the Bratva. When it comes down to it, he betrayed you, too.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts,” I snap fiercely. “There is no coming back from this.” I make sure I look my father in the eyes when I tell him what he already knows. “There is no saving him.”

A tear slips down Fyodor’s eye. “He is my brother…”

I clench my jaw and push away the storm of feelings roaring in the middle of my chest. “And I am the pahkan. Kirill, take him in.”

Kirill grabs hold of Vadim’s arm and pulls him up to his feet. He disarms him quickly, gives him one final patdown, and then leads him out of the room. Vadim doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t struggle or fight. He simply allows Kirill to lead him away.

I sit down in front of my father so that I’m at eye level with him. He seems to have shrunk in the last few minutes. Fear rips through me. The last time I saw him look this broken was when he first got the news about Mother and Leonid. And if Vadim isn’t here to hold him together now… what will happen?

“He’s been a good brother,” he whispers in a broken, quiet voice.

“If you’re asking me to spare him—”

“I’m not asking that.” He takes a deep breath. “I… I don’t know what I’m asking.” He lifts his gaze to mine. Every new line on his face seems to spell regret. “I should have seen this coming.”

“He played his part well.”

“It can’t have all been a lie.”

“In my experience, it’s all or nothing.”

His jaw trembles and tears start streaming down his cheeks. All the life I saw in him in the days after I introduced him to Emma and the kids seems to sag out of him. I rest my hand on his shoulder, trying to draw him out of the dark hole he’s slipping into.

“For now, he’ll be imprisoned. But I will make sure he’s comfortable,” I promise.

“It’s your decision,” he says reluctantly. “As you said, you are the pahkan.”

“This betrayal has hurt me, too, father.”

He shrugs my hand away. “Leave me now.”

I get to my feet, wondering if leaving him alone right now is the right thing to do. The only person who can give me advice is the one man I can’t trust anymore.

I leave my father’s house but once I’m in my car, I can’t bring myself to drive back home. If I go home, Emma will be waiting for me, expecting an explanation. How can I give her one when I don’t have the answers myself?

Fyodor and Vadim have always been close. Through the worst of times, they stuck it out together. It was a relationship I hadn’t thought twice about until after I’d lost Leonid. Then I’d watched both brothers with a distinct pang of envy.

That was the kind of love I understood. It was the kind of love I could get on board with.

But now? If it was all a lie… what did any of it mean?

When my car phone starts ringing, I nearly jerk out of my seat. I press accept and Kirill’s voice comes in. “He’s been situated in a cell across from Adrik. I made sure he was comfortable.”

I’ve never once questioned Kirill’s loyalty. Even tonight, he did everything I asked of him. And yet I find myself wondering if there will come a time when Kirill feels the need to act independently. Will there ever be a day, perhaps when he grows disillusioned with my leadership, when he would decide to forge his own path and set mine on fire?

“Ruslan? You there?”                                                           

“Yeah. I’m here.”