“That is precisely what I want.”
I nod. “Okay. Then—”
“Anton.” Lev hasn’t moved, but he’s tense.
Rodion turns his attention to him. “No, it’s time I know the truth. Let your don talk.”
Like anyone could fucking stop me.
“The truth is that Marina Ivanov was a spoiled, selfish, violent, narcissistic whore.” Rodion’s expression goes black with anger, but I keep talking anyway. “She was as ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside. And I realized within weeks of our marriage that I could never love her. But as much havoc as she caused, as close to hell as she made my life, I did not kill her. I was relieved when I heard she was dead, but I did not kill her. What I was planning on doing… was divorcing her.”
The revelation hangs in the air for a moment as Rodion processes that. “You were going to divorce her?”
“Yes,” I say. “And I told her so myself. That’s what prompted her to commit suicide. Though, in all honesty, I agree with you: Marina was not the type to take her own life. Like I said, she was too egotistical for that. My theory is that she wanted to scare me. She wanted to punish me for our last fight. So she tried to attempt a suicide in the hopes it would get my attention. I don’t think she meant to actually go through with it.”
Rodion looks like he doesn’t know how to react to any of this. Both Lev and Yulian are on edge. The little puppy, Yaromir, who has the unfortunate disadvantage of being the only heir Rodion has left, looks like he’s about to shit himself.
I appear to be the only calm one in the room.
And why shouldn’t I be? I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. I’ve been ready.
Slowly, Rodion stands. I don’t follow suit. I was ready for this meeting to be over half an hour ago. His hands tremble a little as he adjusts his coat.
“Yaromir,” he says, addressing his nephew. “We are finished here.”
The young man stands, but he keeps quite a distance between himself and his uncle. Apparently, he’s worried that anger might be catching.
“I have made a decision,” Rodion tells me with the kind of self-righteous flare that reminds me of his dead daughter. “From this moment, I am breaking with the Stepanov Bratva. All our joint business ventures will be liquidated. All our current contracts will be dissolved. And all my money will be pushed into other Bratvas and mafias in the city that are in direct competition with you.”
“I have no issue with the first two decisions,” I tell him. “That is your prerogative. But the third is an open call to war.”
“So be it.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Have you gone fucking mad, old man? You really want to come at me like that?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“And who’s going to run your Bratva after you’re gone?”
He glances grudgingly at his nephew and I burst out laughing. Yaromir twitches visibly, his expression turning sour.
“This one?” I cackle. “I’ll chew him up and spit him out.”
“You’re underestimating the strength of my blood,” Rodion says fiercely.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling out my gun. “And you’re underestimating the strength of my anger.”
Then I point the gun at the old man’s face and pull the trigger.
His brains hit the white wall behind him. His body collapses seconds later. Yaromir stares at Rodion’s crumpled form, his eyes wide with shock. Even Yulian seems paralyzed by what I’ve just done.
Only Lev seems to understand. He moves to my side and nods. “I’ll get the clean-up team in here.”
I nod. “Yaromir?”
The man pivots to face me, still drenched in pale-faced horror.
“Congratulations. You are now the don of the Ivanov Bratva.”