Page 55 of His Ruthless Vow

My father grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. "You don't speak to him that way. You don't speak to anyone. You gave up that right when you ran away like a scolded child."

"I gave up your right to control me," I say, and I shake off his hand. "I didn't give up my right to speak the truth."

Shouting and pushing explodes, all of us talking over each other, Father and Nikolai trading accusations while Alexei and I try to keep them separated. Natalia pulls Alana back, shielding her with her body, and Mr. Petrov watches from behind his desk with a dark scowl on his face as other council members watch the circus we've invited into his space.

"Enough!" Mr. Petrov slams his hand down, and the boom of his hand on the wood startles everyone. "You were summoned here at the request of your heirs. You will conduct yourselves with dignity, or you will be removed. Sit down. All of you."

Father glares up at Petrov, but a look of understanding washes over his face. He's lost this battle, but he's not happy about it. He sinks into a chair, and Nikolai does the same, but the two of them sit there glaring at each other like caged animals.

I feel Alana's hand find mine, and her fingers are ice-cold but steady. She's terrified. I can feel it in the way she holds my hand too tightly. Her breathing is shallow too, and I get the sense she's ready to get this over with. We came here to make a point and leave, and if our point is not acknowledged by this council, I'll know there's little we can even do about this war.

When Petrov nods at me, I nudge Alana. She came to speak on her own behalf, and this is when it happens, like it or not. She trembles as she steps forward, and I give her space, taking a seat next to Alexei and Natalia.

"Mr. Petrov, council members," she says, bowing from the shoulders, "I think you already heard what happened to me now six Christmases ago." She pauses, and they exchange glances. They all know because they were all there last year when we exposed the truth. I handed over the evidence myself, and this warring should never have been permitted to continue. The council should’ve imposed sanctions and boundary violations.

"Well," she says, clearing her throat. "The fighting that happened before the attempted marriage alliance was all due to that night when Ivan attacked me."

"Shut up!" my father hisses, and Petrov smacks his hand on the wood again.

"Keep your mouth shut, Mikhail, or I'll strip you of all power and hand it to your son."

"You can't do that," my father growls, but Alexei sits a little taller, knowing they very well can and might do that.

"The fighting that has happened for the past year has nothing to do with that event. It's been exposed. The council did nothing to rectify what happened or punish those who covered it up." She sucks in a breath and presses her lips to a line. When she looks me in the eye, I nod at her. This is her show now. She deserves someone to hear this and recognize it.

"You were given the evidence to show the coverup last year and you did nothing with it. Our families are dying and⁠—"

"Sit down, Alana!" Nikolai barks, and Natalia whips around and glares at him.

"You let her speak," Natalia hisses at her father, and I hear him shrink back in his seat as it squeaks.

"Our families are dying," I interject, standing beside Alana. I rest my hand on her lower back and square my shoulders. "As the Bratva council over this city, it's up to you to send down the directives to stop this before more precious lives are lost.”

Mr. Petrov clears his throat, and he looks uncomfortable. "Families often work these things out for themselves. The council doesn't interfere in internal matters unless⁠—"

"Unless what?" I ask, cutting through his excuses. "Unless they've destroyed each other completely? Unless there's nothing left to save?"

I step forward and feel the power in the room shift. The council members watch me with new eyes. "I can put an end to it," I say. "Immediately. Right now. All it will take is one phone call to show you that if the right leadership is in place, the fighting will cease." My chest is heaving as I think of the plans laid out ahead of time.

Every bit of this depends on how loyal those men who report to Alexei might still be to me. If Father has tainted their opinion of me significantly enough, all of this falls apart. Petrov's "let them work it out" ideology will persist until by survival of the fittest, one family dies and the other takes reign. If the Korelovs don't consume us all before that.

My father scoffs and snarls, "You? You have no power in this city. You ran away. You abandoned your family, your duty, your name. You're nothing."

"Am I?" I whip around to face him and pull out my phone, dialing a number Alexei gave me this morning. "Let's see." My throat constricts hard and my heart slams against my ribs. I've not tried to take control of a mission in over a year. These men barely took orders from me as it was—they weren't mine. They were and are Alexei's men. But the call connects, and I put it on speaker. "Sergei," I say, "status report."

"Whoa, Dimitri?" he says, sounding surprised. "Is that you?" The room goes silent as I look up at Mr. Petrov in a show of power.

"It's me, now give me a status report. Tell me what's happening." I know damn well they're about to attack Nikolai's men again, but this plan is about to change.

"Yeah, Boss. I'm glad to have you back. We're in position." Sergei's voice comes back, crackling with static. "Ready to move on your command." It's like I never skipped a beat at all. He's right there, ready to take my orders.

"Change of plans," I say, and I look at Father, watch his face as he realizes I still have loyalty he didn't know about. "You're two blocks east of the Volskaya warehouse. Correct?"

"Yes, sir. Ready to move on your command."

"Turn around," I say. "Head two blocks west to the old brick building on Loskaya Prospect and go in hard. Take them down."

"Sir?" The voice hesitates. "That's not the mission. We're supposed to be retaliating against⁠—"