Page 53 of His Ruthless Vow

"But he is a Sokolov, no?" His eyebrows rise as my blood pressure creeps up. "Did you spread your legs for that swine, Alana?"

Rage bubbles up in my chest. I clench my hands into fists and refuse to react. My mind is tracing through every thought, every response I could have, and I can't find a single one that feels appropriately weighted for this moment. I won't turn into him, but I also won't fawn anymore.

"Did you? Tell me, is that Dimitri Sokolov's baby? Did you fuck him?" He leans forward, bottle fisted in his hand, and I picture the warm smile of the man I love in my mind's eye. I feel his hand slide into the small of my back, and I take confidence knowing when I leave this place, that's who I get to go home to.

"Yes. I did." I say it confidently, with no fear in my tone and no shame in my chest. "And you're not touching a hair on his head." This war just heated up, and now my sister and two Sokolov men must stand together to prove the next generation knows how wrong our predecessors really are.

And we have to do it before they do something so astronomically stupid like stealing my child.

34

DIMITRI

When the bell rings, I cross the room and pull open the door. Alexei stands there with Natalia beside him, both of them looking around like they expect an ambush. We're in a mostly safe neighborhood, but after the response our fathers have had to this second attempt to stop their nonsensical feuding, we can't be too careful. I step back and gesture them inside, and they walk in together.

"Come in," I say, taking Natalia's coat as she sheds it. It's getting colder out as winter and the holidays approach, and it seems fitting that almost a year later, we're back at the same plot, sneaking around to stop a war we don't want raging anymore. "Alana's in the kitchen," I tell them, and like magic, she walks in.

Alana appears in the doorway, smiling when she sees them. She makes this very serious meeting of conspirators feel like a social call, though the way Alexei and Natalia are being friendly with each other doesn't hurt, either. "You made it," Alana says, crossing the room to embrace Natalia. She hesitates in front of Alexei before offering him the same. He accepts, stiff at first, then relaxing into it.

Hugs aren't my brother’s—or any other Sokolov's—favorite thing, but I have a feeling with these Volskaya women around, he's going to have to loosen up. I chuckle at him when she pulls away, and he scowls at me.

"We need to talk," Alexei says, but Misha chooses that moment to let out a wail from the bedroom, a sound that means business. He's been constipated and Alana gave him some juice this afternoon to get him moving. I bet he's filled his diaper and needs a nappy changed, and I'm trying to dodge that duty today.

"I'll get him," Alana says, but Natalia's already moving.

"I've got him," she calls over her shoulder, disappearing into the back room. We hear her cooing at the baby, and then the sound stops abruptly. "Oh, no," she says, and her voice carries back to us. "Oh, Misha, what have you done?"

Alana laughs and moves in that direction, asking, "That bad?"

"That bad," Natalia confirms, and she appears in the doorway holding Misha at arm's length, her nose wrinkled. "This is a disaster. A biological disaster." I can smell the stench from here. It makes both me and my brother raise an arm to cover our sensitive noses. How can such a noxious odor come from something so small?

"I'll change him," Alana says, but Natalia shakes her head.

"No, I've got it. Where are the supplies?"

"Under the changing table," Alana says, and she points. "Wipes are in the blue container. Good luck."

Natalia disappears again, and we hear her talking to Misha in a high voice, something about explosions and toxic waste, and Alexei actually smiles. "She's good with him," he says. I get the feeling that he's sore about us crashing his wedding. Something tells me my little brother is really ready to settle down. It makes me feel more comfortable with my plan to be with Alana long-term. I haven't told her—I'm waiting for the right time, and right now seems to not be it. But I'm going to tell her soon.

"She's had practice," Alana says. "With cousins, with family friends. She's always been the maternal one."

We settle into the living room, where Alana has tea service set up. It's a bit frivolous and posh, but I can see it means something to her. My brother must too because Alexei takes a cup and warms his hands around it. When Natalia returns with Misha clean and content, sucking on his fist, I know it's time to get down to business.

"He's napping now," she says, and she settles onto the couch beside Alana. "That was a crime against nature."

"Wait until he's eating solid food," Alana says, and she shudders. "Then you'll see crimes against nature."

It makes us all chuckle, but when the laughter dies down, the room takes on a serious tone. There's an elephant in here with us that we need to address and I have to lead this discussion. I've been leading since I was a child. Now isn't a time to stop.

"We need to talk about what we're going to do next," I say, and the levity fades because we all know why we're here. "Our fathers are going to destroy everything. If they continue this feud, there will be nothing left for any of us."

Alexei nods and sets down his tea. "I've seen the numbers. The Korelovs have taken three more blocks in the last month. We're bleeding money, losing men, and Father refuses to see it. He just wants more blood."

"I've seen it too," Natalia says, staring at her hands as she picks at her fingernails. "Batya paces at night. He doesn't sleep. He's obsessed with destroying Mikhail, and he doesn't care what it costs."

"Well, we have the evidence," I say, standing to retrieve the folder from the desk. "The council has already seen this, but we can offer it again." I'm not sure what good it will do to offer the same thing a second time, unless the four of us present a united front. We are the children of these Pakhans who are running rebellious in the streets, destroying the city we love. It's up to us.

I spread the papers on the coffee table, and we gather around them like conspirators. Alana touches the pages, and her finger traces the lines that detail what was done to her, what was hidden, what was sacrificed for the sake of pride.