Page 74 of Scarred Redemption

“Don’t do that, Maxsim. I’m merely spouting off at the mouth. I would never intentionally…” Her words faded and I returned to studying her face, wishing I could meet the bastard in a dark alley. There would be no hesitation as to what I would do.

“Can you describe the ring?”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Thick gold, garish with ornate scrolls on both sides. The top was onyx with a symbol that I didn’t really see.” When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell on my scarred arm. “Snakes. On the two sides. Engraved in gold were snakes.”

The design sounded vaguely familiar, although I couldn’t put a finger on where or when. “Excellent memory.”

“Which is why I will remember him.”

“No bald man?”

“No bald man or anyone who could be. The masked men had full heads of hair.”

I took another sip while she reached for her wine, choosing the bottle of water I’d brought instead.

“I promise you that Mina is going to have the treatment she needs.”

“If you’re so worried, we could take her to the hospital where Hope works.”

Another gulp of my drink bought me some time. “Isabel, someone in my closeknit circle has betrayed me. I’m not certain as of yet who that is, but my instinct tells me that as elaborate as the scheme has been, he would have needed someone else to help keep his cover. Potentially someone who knows your schedule and the locations you frequent.”

I’d toyed with the idea for several hours while attempting to control my thoughts and my increasing fury.

It didn’t take her very long to comprehend what I was suggesting. She turned her head slowly, her chest rising and falling while her shoulders heaved. “How dare you insinuate that Hope has anything to do with what has happened. How dare you.”

I allowed her to think through the reasons I’d thought both Hope and Sergei had been working together.

“Hope has been my friend for years, a real friend, likely something you’ve never experienced in your life. She’s a nurse. She saves people. She doesn’t kill them. If you’re thinking her adoration for Sergei is fake, then you don’t know her very well. She’s not that good of an actress. Have you accused your man of this or are you hoping I’ll do the dirty work for you?”

Seeing her emotions shifting from one direction to another was understandable. And pushing her highlighted how loyal she was, which was good to see.

“What I want is to discover the truth. I was made aware of this betrayal when you were called my fiancée. Given I mentioned the possibility to two people, one of whom is someone your best friend has spent time with, the question had to be asked.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Trust me, my angel. I hope that I am. For if I’m not, then I’ll be forced to endure another type of suffering. The loss of someone I consider a true friend.”

The weight of what I was admitting wasn’t lost on her. “How can you spend all your days questioning whether you can trust people?”

“Because that’s what must happen to keep the sanctity of my privileged world.” I swung my arm out for emphasis.

“If you’re so unhappy with who you are, change it.”

Once again, I brought the rim of the dense crystal to my lips. “If only it were that easy, Isabel.”

“Why isn’t it? You are responsible for your own life. You’re brilliant. You’re wealthy. You’re powerful. You can do anything you want to do. You’re not in Russia any longer.”

“Even before I was born, my place in this universe was established. As the firstborn son, all those around me knew I would one day be Pakhan. I was trained, schooled, and forced to followed various protocols my entire life. It didn’t matter that we left Russia to come here. Nothing had changed. While I realize you don’t completely understand the hierarchy of the Bratva, it is of very little difference from that of a monarchy. I was once a prince and now, I’m king with responsibilities while holding the lives and livelihood of others in the palm of my hand.”

Isabel blinked once during at least ten seconds before looking away. “You mentioned the old ways, ways of your father and grandfather. Why not change the rules?”

“Because doing so completely would be a slap in the face. Considered as close to patriarchal murder in my country as there could be. I will not dishonor my family or my name. However,” I threw out while trying to lighten the tone, “I have changed certain rules and brought the business into the twenty-first century while adding legitimacy to the bottom line.”

She wasn’t accepting of my mood change, as frustrated as she was before. “So you’ll carry on this tradition into the future. There will always be a Bratva.”

“Yes, Isabel. That doesn’t mean the next generation won’t have the autonomy to make certain changes as I’ve done.”

“While being expected to carry on the family legacy. I understand.”