The Sokolov Brothers: The Complete Series Page 9

  “No,” Viktor interrupted. “Kostya is like a rabid animal when it comes to violence. I just do what I must.”

  “Kostya takes after Father, then.” Niko’s gaze slipped from the cup of coffee in his hands, down to the Persian rug at his feet.

  “What are you talking about? Father was no stranger to violence, of course, but you do what you have to do when you have a mafia to run.” Viktor’s brow furrowed. What was his brother getting at?

  “What does beating his son have to do with running the mafia?” Niko’s gaze shot to Viktor’s, and the pain behind his brother’s dark eyes caused the air to flee from Viktor’s lungs.

  “He… he didn’t beat us.” Viktor said softly.

  “No, Viktor, he didn’t beat you or Kostya because you were good little mercenaries, but he beat me.” Niko set his coffee down and wrung his hands in his lap. His posture slipped a bit, and he slouched as though trying to hide from his own memories.

  “What? Why?” The father Viktor had known was a stern man, but a sensible one. Viktor had sat with him through closed-door meetings when he was of age, and he’d gleaned that his father was to be feared… but to think that he would beat his own son? Viktor thought he’d known him better than that.

  “Because he said I was too feminine. He said I needed to ‘man up’ so I didn’t disgrace the family. I wasn’t strong, like you, or quick to act, like Kostya. He saw me as a failure, and intended to whip me into shape.”

  “He never raised a hand against me unless I deserved the punishment.” Viktor pressed his lips together and watched Niko in disbelief, waiting to catch telltale signs of a lie in progress. But Niko didn’t twitch or fidget. He didn’t look off to the side nervously, either. There was a pained, distant look in his eyes that Viktor had always seen in glimpses, but had never connected to a broader context.

  “So in the summers, when we were younger, and you always wore long sleeves even when it was boiling hot in the shade…”

  Niko was silent. He’d been bold enough to meet Viktor’s eye previously, but now he looked into his coffee again. Viktor didn’t know what to say. Life hadn’t been easy for any of them—the nature of their family business had assured it—but he’d never thought that Niko had been through pain like that… or that their father, as iron-fisted as he could be, could have been capable of such an act toward his own child.

  Before Viktor could react, there was a scuffling sound outside the door. He turned his head to watch as the doorknob twisted and the door pushed open.

  It was Alexandra.

  “Am I… interrupting? I’m sorry, this is like the tenth time I’ve done this. Either I need to learn how to knock, you need to learn how to lock the door, or both.” Alexandra’s tone was light-hearted, if not a little awkward. She offered a sheepish smile.

  Viktor felt guilt strike him in the gut like a cannonball. He had just been talking about potentially injuring her father. If she hadn’t interrupted, they’d inevitably have been discussing the murder of her family now.

  Guilt turned to confusion, then cemented itself into stinging frustration as Viktor struggled to weigh his burgeoning love for his wife against his duty as a mafia boss and his duty to avenge his father. He didn’t know what to say to Alexandra. Luckily, she seemed all too eager to fill the silence for him.

  “If I am interrupting, I’m very sorry, but this can’t wait.” She cast a pleading glance to Viktor. “Can we please speak alone?”

  Niko and Alexandra both watched Viktor for a response. His jaw clenched for a moment, his neck muscles taut and his face tightened into a momentary scowl. Rather than send Alexandra away, however, he wanted to address this; he was curious as to what could possibly be so urgent, so important, that she would barge in like this—again, knowing how upset he’d been before.

  “Niko, my wife needs me. Would you mind?” Viktor looked to his brother and gestured toward the door. There were secrets kept in his brother’s heart that he wanted to discover, but the situation at hand required his attention as well.

  “It’s no problem at all.” Niko’s expression was downcast, but nowhere near as plain as it had been moments before. His mask had gone back up, and he’d returned to being the same brother who Viktor was so familiar with. The transformation was jarring, and it left a mark on Viktor’s soul.

  Every family had secrets, but the ones he was in the process of discovering about his own? They made him all the more aware of how much was now riding on his shoulders. He’d inherited the family business as well as its reputation, and it was up to him whether that reputation would be preserved, or whether it would change. He needed to fix his father’s mistakes. Ruling with an iron-fist was a necessity, but to go so far? To sink so low.

  No.

  Viktor would not allow it.

  Niko made his way toward the door while Alexandra entered and stood near Viktor. Before he shut the door behind him, Niko poked his head back in and added, “Thank you for listening.”

  Viktor offered a tight-lipped smile and a single, deep nod.

  Niko disappeared from the doorway, and only after his footfalls grew distant did Alexandra let out a whoosh of breath. Though she seemed flustered, Viktor saw both tenderness and resolve in her big blue eyes. He patted the couch cushion next to him. “Come, tell me what’s so important.”

  Alexandra plopped into the deep cushion so that they were side by side and put her hand on his thigh.

  “I know how to prove my father’s innocence.”

  17

  Alexandra

  Alexandra had been surprised to find Viktor wanted to hear what she had to say instead of resorting to yelling at her to leave or slamming the door in her face, as he had the evening after their wedding. Pride swelled in her chest—they were making progress. Her fingers played against the black fabric of his pants, tracing the outline of his impressive thigh muscle.

  “I can appreciate your eagerness to talk, but it is unnecessary,” Viktor said. His mouth was a tight line across his face, the expression revealing no emotion.

  “What do you mean unnecessary?” Alexandra demanded, but suddenly it occurred to her what he might mean, and she felt her eyes widening. “Please tell me you didn’t do something horrible already.” She froze, her hand still on his leg, and fought to keep her gaze firm, searching his face for an answer.

  “No, not horrible. I am simply doing what must be done.”

  Alexandra felt tears coming, and shook her head. “That isn’t very reassuring, you know.”

  “It isn’t meant to be reassuring. It is just the truth,” Viktor said. Even though he hadn’t turned to pure ice, and even though he was taking the time to talk to her, Alexandra sensed his emotional walls rising high. Dread blossomed in Alexandra’s chest, but she refused to be overcome by it. She would save her father, would clear her family, and then she would finally be able to break through to Viktor and build the marriage she’d been striving for her entire life.

  “I saw Elena today,” Alexandra said, rather than pushing Viktor to explain himself. “Her father, Uncle Tolya, can prove my father’s innocence. All you need to do is—”

  “No.” Viktor was firm, bordering on sharp. His eyes blazed at Alexandra, matching her resolve with his own. “I have already made up my mind.”

  Alexandra’s pulse spiked. She wanted to argue with him, but knew his stubbornness well. So far, the only times she had been able to break through to him was through sex.

  “Please, Viktor, you haven’t even listened to what I have to say yet!” Her voice had grown softer, lower, silken, the words lingering in the air long after they’d passed her lips. She gazed at him with partially-lidded eyes, purposeful in every breath now. The hand on his thigh slipped teasingly against the fly of his pants. Alexandra shifted her weight and posture to put her breasts on display.

  Their bodies were close. The high notes of his cologne mingled with the rich leather smell of the furniture and the intoxicating musk of his sweat. She scooted nearer to pr
ess against him.

  “Then I will listen.” Viktor licked his lips and cocked his head. “But only listen. As I said before, I have already made up my mind.”

  Alexandra used a single, delicate finger to trace the outline of his hardening cock. “Uncle Tolya knows my father well, and I know he knows something about what’s going on.” She kept her words vague. Images of the cardboard boxes and movers in uniform at Elena’s apartment flashed through her mind’s eye, and she wondered just how much to reveal to Viktor. It was bad enough he was making threats against her family; she didn’t want to endanger Elena, as well. All of her strange behavior, now compounded by her sudden move, suggested that something was wrong. The Elena Alexandra knew was more sympathetic than she’d been in their last few meetings, and Alexandra wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she snapped. She was already showing signs of being under tremendous pressure. Adding on to that would be cruel, and Alexandra wanted better for her friend than that.

  “And what exactly does he know?” Viktor’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper. Alexandra felt the steady thrum of blood in his erection, and began to tease it with greater pressure. He lifted his hips and pressed back to rub himself against her palm. Hopefully, his arousal would buy her a moment to think.

  Alexandra faltered for words. She didn’t know exactly how Uncle Tolya was involved, or what information he may be privy to, but if he had instructed Elena to leave, then he must have heard something. Surely that, combined with his relationship with her father Sergei, would be enough to prove her family’s innocence.

  Her perfectly manicured nails clasped the zipper to his fly. She unzipped it slowly and dipped her hand into his pants. With only a thin layer of cotton between his powerful erection and her hand, she could feel the warmth from his body, and purred against his ear.

  “You’ll have to ask him that. I am certain my father is innocent, and I am certain that if you would just take a little, tiny bit of time to talk to Uncle Tolya, he would be able to straighten this whole thing out. I’ve known him since I was little, and he’s a good man.” Alexandra’s fingers slipped past the front slit of Viktor’s boxers to caress his aching cock unhindered.

  Viktor’s hand closed around her wrist. When their eyes met, his face had grown callous and his eyes had narrowed. He slowly wrenched her hand away and placed it in her lap, then zipped his fly back up. “Stop this. I have already given word to have your father brought in, and that is final. Batting your eyes at me and jerking me off isn’t going to change anything.”

  The fear, sadness, frustration, and hurt bubbled over in Alexandra’s chest and melted into horror. Her eyes watered, verging on tears. She pulled back from Viktor, leaning away from him into the far side of the couch and staring at him as though he had just kicked a kitten.

  “You’re a monster,” she whispered.

  He just glared at her with that familiar, icy expression; it was the same look he had worn when they’d first met, on their wedding day. Hope for a happy marriage, for becoming a respected matriarch in the Sokolov family, crashed down around Alexandra and drained into bone-deep anguish.

  All of his tenderness up until now had to have been an act. He had almost fooled her, and she resented herself for falling for his deception.

  “Go ahead, then. If that’s what you’re going to do, if that’s who you really are, then just kill me. Isn’t that what you do?” Alexandra’s voice cracked as tears finally spilled down her cheeks, carrying her hope with them as they fell, and she wiped at them uselessly with her hands.

  “I am not killing your father, Alexandra. Only questioning him,” Viktor said flatly. But Alexandra wasn’t sure if she believed him, or if she even had reason to.

  “Oh, questioning? That’s all, just questioning? Are you going to question him with a knife, with a gun, or with a car battery?” Anger crept into her voice. She stood slowly, her legs trembling with adrenaline, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

  “Just questioning.”

  “And when are you bringing him in?”

  “I have already given word.” Viktor remained seated, and stone-like.

  Maybe this marriage is beyond saving, but I still have time to save my father, Alexandra thought. She pursed her lips and took a few deep breaths while Viktor continued to stare at her with his freezing gaze.

  “How long?” she asked.

  Viktor did not respond. Alexandra wanted to scream.

  “How long?” she repeated, louder this time. Viktor’s eyes narrowed further.

  “Soon enough.” He reached to the endtable and retrieved his cup of coffee, then took a nonchalant sip. Alexandra wanted to slap the cup out of his hand, to grab him by the lapels and shake him, but knew it would accomplish nothing.

  “Just hold on. For me, Viktor,” she added. Then Alexandra whirled and raced for the door, and disappeared down the hall at a sprint. She heard Viktor’s booming voice echoing behind her, demanding she come back.

  She kept running.

  18

  Alexandra

  The crisp night air was cold against Alexandra’s tear-stained cheeks. She wished she had brought a jacket, but had no time to spare. Viktor might order the gates around the mansion closed, and so she had to hurry.

  Her feet scuffled and smacked against the pavement with each stride. She ran past the guards, past flowerbeds, and down the slope of the drive until she was past the gates, and she kept running. For the second time today, she was grateful she had worn flats.

  First, she would get to Uncle Tolya. After that, Alexandra was uncertain what would happen, but if she had any chance at helping her father and her family, it was through Uncle Tolya. For a moment, she contemplated calling Elena, but after reflexively reaching to where her purse would have hung, it dawned on her that she didn’t have a phone to use.

  Only after the Sokolov mansion was a speck in the distance, and only after Alexandra had received a few odd looks from passers-by, did she slow her pace. And that was only barely. She bit down on her lip to try and keep her emotions in check and wiped her cheeks again when a family walking past her on the sidewalk stopped to ask if she was alright.

  “I-I’m fine, really. Where’s the nearest subway station?” she asked them. They pointed down the street, gave her a few short directions, and she took off jogging again to get to the subway. Her lungs burned and her muscles were starting to cramp, but she pushed on.

  By the time she reached the subway station, she was gasping out sobs. It took a few minutes of leaning against the wall and focusing on her breathing to pull herself together.

  Then, she realized she had no way to pay for the train.

  Letting out a long sigh, she only hesitated briefly before deciding to duck under the turnstile for now, and pay for two tickets the next time she took the subway. She doubted anyone would say something to her or make a scene; who wanted to disrupt a crying woman?

  Her plan went over without a hitch. As she trotted along near the tracks then, looking for the correct train, she did a mental double-check of Uncle Tolya’s address. Elena had told her in passing that he lived on Oakdale, and while Alexandra wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of the address, she figured that she could check the mail until she found the right place. Not only was Elena’s mail being redirected, but Uncle Tolya would have his name on whatever letters came in or out of the house, too. It was a short, exclusive street. She only hoped she could find the place quickly enough. Viktor had said soon, but how soon was that, really?

  Would they tie him up? Would they torture him on the way to wherever they took him? She couldn’t imagine her father being very violent or resisting, but…

  Alexandra felt dizzy with trying to juggle all of the pieces of the puzzle, and instead focused her breathing again. One thing at a time. Right now, all that mattered was getting to Uncle Tolya.

  The train approached. Alexandra watched it come closer, her heart heavy as she considered all that she knew.

  Viktor was a monster
for taking her father. She felt like she had to do something, anything, to save him. Even when her father was at his worst, even on the day he’d threatened to throw her brother Andrei out of the house, he had never been capable of murder. Sergei Volkin just didn’t have it in him.

  Yes, it was true she hadn’t known about his debts, and yes, she doubted he would ever be able to repay them, but there was no way he would murder his friend. Money was just money; Father would never betray a friend like that. Alexandra knew he was innocent with every fiber of her being, all the way to the core of her bones.

  What she wasn’t certain about was Viktor. His words were slippery and elusive, like a snake disappearing into tall grass. Viktor had said he was ‘bringing Sergei in’ but not much more. Would he torture her Father until he confessed, even if only to drive out a false confession?

  Worse yet, if her father refused to confess, would they start hurting Alexandra’s mother or brother until her father yielded?

  Alexandra hadn’t known it was possible, but her heart sank further as she realized that Viktor might even resort to hurting her just to get to her father.

  Their shared meals, their shared bodies, their conversations, even the look Viktor got in his eyes when he gazed down at her in bed—like she was dearly loved and precious—had that all been a ruse? He’d asked way too many questions about her family. And she had answered them honestly. What if that information got her family hurt now?