Page 145 of Bratva Menace

“Yes.” Father nodded, answering my question. “He’ll be in charge, and given leave to act as he sees fit. Once a quarter, he’ll report to me with the business earnings and inventory levels.”

“That will keep him pretty busy. Shit’s calm now, but it always picks back up again eventually.”

“True.” Aleksandr placed his elbow on the table and touched his chin thoughtfully. “But Mikhail can handle it. I don’t think he would have offered unless he was sure he could do it.”

Hmm. Maybe. People agreed to shit all the time without truly understanding what they were getting themselves into.

For as long as I could remember, Mikhail only had to worry about himself and his business. He was a cool dude. I liked him. He was kind of like our designated uncle because our real one was a piece of shit. Mikhail ran his own business as a loan shark. He would lend people money—outrageous, obscene amounts of money—and give them ample time to pay it back. Some did and some didn’t. The ones who didn’t had to work off their debt in other ways. He was fair, and didn’t abuse those who worked for him like a lot of other people did, but he could also be vicious as hell when the occasion called for it.

“It’s not like he’s getting nothing out of it. I doubt he would have even offered if that were the case.” Father chuckled. “He’ll be working closely with our clients, both new and old. The potential to build up his own business in the process is staggering.”

“It is,” Aleksandr agreed. “Nikolai ran the numbers. Fucker’s likely to pull in more than us by the end of the year.”

We were just entering March, so that was saying something. “Guess he’s not totally selfless.” I laughed. “When does he leave?”

“He already has.” Father reached for the glass of water on the desk, and struggled. I rolled my eyes as I got to my feet and grabbed it, handing it to him. “Not one word,” he warned, taking it and relaxing back instantly.

I raised my hands in surrender, walking back to my chair.

He gulped it down like a man getting his first taste of water in days before exhaling heavily. “He left a few hours ago. I’ve been in touch with Rurik. He was my contact in Sergei’s ranks before the takeover. He will show Mikhail the ropes until he can do things on his own.”

“And you’re sure Rurik can be trusted?”

Father nodded and held out his glass to me. I took it and placed it back on the desk. “He’s loyal. He was loyal to me even when Sergei was alive.”

Didn’t hurt to ask.

The sound of a door slamming shut made my father jump.

“Dimitri-fucking-Volkov, you better not be out of that bed!” Autumn’s voice rang throughout the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Father blew out under his breath. He waved his hands back and forth in the air quickly. “Help me up. Help me up.”

“Uh-uh. No. Way,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not getting on that woman’s bad side. I heard about what she did in California three years ago to that MC gang. She slaughtered all sixteen of them on her own, all because she was pissed off.” I continued to shake my head. “I ain’t getting in her way. Sorry, Pops. You’re on your own.”

Aleksandr arched a brow in surprise, no doubt at the Pops comment, before chuckling softly.

Father glared at me.

“What?” I asked innocently. “I’ve got a point. You know I’ve got a point. Zander, tell him I have a point.”

“He has a point,” my older brother agreed immediately. “Even I wouldn’t cross her.”

“Scaredy-cats. The lot of you,” Father hissed.

Loud, thunderous footsteps followed next, and then Autumn stormed into Aleksandr’s office like an inferno, eyes zeroing in on Father like a sniper scope. “I knew it!” she blasted, marching forward. “I knew you wouldn’t stay in bed. Dimitri! The doctor was very clear! No strenuous activity, and you’ve already reached your allotted time for the day!”

Father smiled. “Hi, baby.” His voice was soft and sweet—two things I would have never associated with him in the past.

Autumn narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you ‘baby’ me. You promised.”

“Technically, I didn’t break that promise,” he rushed out, holding a finger in the air. “I’m sitting down. I’m still resting.”

“Oh, really?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Grab that glass on the desk.”

Father’s eyes darted to me and then back to Autumn. It took everything in me to hold in my snicker as Father reached forward, his face twitching as he tried to hold back the agony he was so clearly feeling at the movement. A pain-filled groan rumbled in the back of his throat. He still kept trying to reach for it despite the pain, refusing to admit what we all already knew—he shouldn’t have been out of bed.

Stubborn old bull.