Page 118 of The Wrong Brother

I rub a hand across my face. The problem remains, as much as I want to ignore it: Andrei.

None of this will be over until I decide on my plan of attack. There is one very clear path forward, but…Emma. The baby. Kate.

All three feel like a sacrifice. Not to mention the woman I last knew was tucked away in a trailer miles from here, doing her best to stop existing. Could I do that to her? To these people I’ve come to care for, just to take my brother down over a feral past?

I step out onto the porch, close the door carefully, and double-check that I have reception. Stepan answers after three rings—a little slow on the uptake, but then, it is earlier morning there.

“Boss.”

“You’re awake.”

A snort comes through the speaker. “You trained me.”

I move toward the front window, trying to see past the gauzy curtain if Emma has stirred at all yet.

“Do we still have the file? The one on Kate and her mother.”

Silence. Stepan isn’t confused. He knows exactly which file I mean. But I’ve never spoken of it, not since Kate came to live with me.

“Yes.”

Sunlight is just starting to break through the pines and dapple the forest floor. A dart of motion pulls my attention, and I turn quickly.

A doe bounding into the deeper shadows.

“How extensive?” I ask, distracted by the fact that this feels like sacrilege. Talking about this in the middle of such a gorgeous morning, a gorgeous place.

“Extremely. It’s detailed. There are photographs from the original police reports, and interviews with the officers about their initial doubts on his account.”

Of course, it is. I hired competent people.

The file on Shannon has existed for years. It’s been insurance, leverage. A weapon I always hoped I would never need to use. Even though I don’t know exactly where she is, I have an idea, and that’s enough.

It was also supposed to be a peace offering if Kate ever had questions about what happened before I came into her life.

Now I find myself thinking about it every day.

“You’re considering it.” It isn’t a question. Either way, Stepan shouldn’t be asking. Or at the very least, shouldn’t sound as approving as he does.

When I remain silent, he sighs heavily.

“You should know something.”

“Go on.”

“If you decide to use it, nobody will question you.”

I lean against the window frame. The words offer no comfort, and my brow knits, wondering why my second-in-command bothered to bring that up. I know it as well as he does.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“No,” Stepan agrees. “But it’s what you need to hear. And what’s to say that if you don’t expose him now, he won’t get away with it again? Marriage doesn’t fix problems, Boss; it often worsens them.”

I wouldn’t know, but Stepan has been married to the same woman for twelve years. A firecracker that I’d hire in his stead if something ever went sideways.

The forest beyond the porch remains peaceful, completely indifferent to the war brewing beneath the surface of my life. For a long moment, neither of us speaks, but it’s Stepan who has to break the silence once more.

“For what it’s worth, boss, I support whatever decision you make.”