Sevastian turned his back on our family. He considered himself stronger alone, better without the Bratva at his side. So now, he has to know exactly what it would feel like to be on his own.
There can be no mercy, no holding back.
Starting now, Sevastian is not my friend or my brother. He is my enemy, and I would do well to remember that.
By the time the front door opens, I’m sitting down in an armchair in the den, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded in my lap. I’m at ease. Visibly, at least.
Sevastian appears in the doorway first. “Dmitry.”
The lieutenants fall away beside him, hanging back, and I see Sevastian glance around. His brow furrows, and I know he is suspicious. As he should be. Sevastian has always been a smart man, and I have no intention of fooling him tonight. Surely, he has to suspect what is coming for him.
“Sevastian,” I say warmly, beckoning him into the sitting room. “Come, sit.”
He hesitates. “I was told there’s some kind of emergency?”
“Did they say that?” I ask, eyebrow raised, looking around him to where my lieutenants are lurking in the shadows of the entryway. They won’t interrupt the proceedings unless they have to. Unless Sevastian puts up more of a fight than I expect. “Very dramatic. It’s hardly an emergency.”
“Okay,” he says, his tone somewhere between a statement and a question. “So, what’s up?”
I gesture for him to sit on the sofa next to me. “You missed our meeting tonight.”
Sevastian’s forehead wrinkles as he sits. “I didn’t know there was a meeting.”
“I sent a message to everyone in the Bratva. Did you not get one?”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls through it. “No. Strange. This piece of shit phone is always acting up on me.”
He scrolls to the top and then looks through his messages a second time. I wonder if he’s worried about any messages he may have missed from the FBI. Though, if he’s smart, he’ll have a second phone to communicate with them. He won’t use the same phone he uses for Bratva work. It’s too big of a risk.
“It wasn’t anything too important,” I say, waving my hand. “I just wanted to call you in here and make sure you were still alive. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out the way we used to.”
“It has,” he agrees. Sevastian runs a hand through his spiked black hair, the gelled strands returning to their previous spikiness the moment his hand moves past them. “I’ve let myself get a little busy.”
“I’m not giving you too much work, am I?” I ask, leaning in.
Sevastian swallows. “No, no. Anything for the Bratva, you know that.”
He smiles, but his eyes are wide and alert. Everything about his body language tells me he’s uncomfortable. Probably because I’m being kind to him. Sevastian knows me well enough to know that, if I’m being kind, there is an ulterior motive.
He plants his palms on his knees and sits forward on the couch. “So, you just brought me here to check up on me? I’m flattered to hear you care so much about me.”
“I care about those who care about me,” I say, reaching out and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “And I’m loyal to those who are loyal to me.”
I see him process the words, and his smile slips. Sevastian goes pale, and he swallows a lump in his throat before taking a deep breath. “Why am I here, Dmitry?”
“Because I sent for you,” I say simply.
He nods, his hands lacing together in front of him. “What for?”
I sit back in my chair and stretch. Then, I turn and grab the crystal globe sitting on the side table. It’s a trinket from my father’s office. Something given to him as a gift from another boss, maybe a past leader of the Japanese Yakuza. It means nothing to me, but I’ve kept it around. I spin the globe with my finger, watching it turn slowly.
“Why?” Sevastian repeats, his voice shaking. “What is going on? And why is everyone waiting in the other room? What is this about? Have I done something?”
“Have you?” I ask quietly, tilting my head towards him.
He licks his lips, and I can see his fingers shaking. Slowly, the tremor moves up his body, claiming him inch by inch. He can’t stop it. Soon, his head is twitching back and forth, too.
Sevastian is terrified.
“Who told you?” he asks.
I appreciate his not trying to lie his way out of things, even if it’s not like he stood a chance if he made the attempt.
“Does it matter?”
He bites the inside of his cheek.
“What did you tell them?” I ask calmly, letting my duty to the Bratva wash away everything else.
There are men waiting in the other room, expecting me to look out for them. To take care of them.
Who knows what Sevastian told the FBI? Who he turned over? Any one of my men could be hauled in for questioning and it’s entirely Sevastian’s fault.
And ultimately, my fault.
For trusting a traitor. For being loyal to a man who wasn’t loyal to me.
Now, I have to rectify it.
“Does it matter?” Sevastian asks, repeating my own question back to me. “You’re going to kill me regardless of what I say.”
I nod. He isn’t wrong. “I would respect you more if you confessed. It might lessen the severity of your punishment.”
“Bullshit,” he spits. “I’m dying tonight regardless. So, go ahead, Dmitry. Do what you brought me here to do.”
When I don’t move, Sevastian leans forward, his top lip pulled back in a snarl. “What? Are you afraid to hurt your best friend? Because that’s what we are, right? Best friends. You know I only did what I did to save my own ass. It had nothing to do with you or the Bratva. I wouldn’t have gone to the FBI if they hadn’t found me first. That’s why you didn’t kill me the moment I
