“What if she chooses not to go to Yaromir at all?” Lev asks.
“She will,” I say confidently. “Like I said, he has resources and men. She needs both. And apart from that, she will feel a sense of ownership where the Ivanov Bratva is concerned. She’ll assume she’s the rightful heir, and she’ll come for what is hers.”
Lev snorts. “Rightful heir, my ass. Rodion may have doted on the bitch, but he was too smart to ever have made her the heir to his Bratva.”
“Which was why he married her off to me,” I say. “So that I would be the one to run both operations.”
“Except you couldn’t control Marina,” Yulian says.
I glare at him, and he flushes with color and turns away.
“I was trying to control her while she was trying to control me. It was a marriage made in hell.”
“What do you think she wants?” Lev asks suddenly.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Yulian asks, looking at Lev incredulously.
“No, it’s not,” he retorts. “She’s made an intentional decision to come after Anton. She’s started a war that she doesn’t have the means, the men, or the skill to finish. It seems poorly thought-out. It seems almost like…”
“Suicide,” I finish for him.
Yulian looks between the two of us with a baffled expression. “Maybe she thinks she can win?”
“How?” I ask. “Yaromir controls the Ivanov Bratva, and he’s been legitimized with my support. The men may have fantasized about sleeping with Marina, but they’re not going to follow her into a hopeless war.”
Yulian’s expression twists and he considers that for a moment. “Maybe she’s thinking less about control and more about revenge.”
“She was never one to forgive an insult,” I agree with a nod. “And I suppose telling her I was divorcing her and kicking her out of my house was insult enough.”
“Not to mention you killed her father,” Yulian says.
It’s possible, I know, but somehow, I think there’s a deeper reason to Marina’s madness. She’s punishing me for something far greater than the threat of divorce. Something greater even than the death of her father.
Because as much as Rodion loved her, I’m not sure that Marina was ever capable of loving anyone apart from herself.
“Her reasons are her reasons,” I decide. “And frankly, I no longer care what they are. All I want now is to see the life drain from her eyes. She’s backed into a corner. The noose is tightening and she’s going to make her move sooner rather than later. She’ll have to be on the offensive if she has a hope of surviving this.”
Lev frowns. “What are you thinking?”
“I have to force her hand. Get her to go to Yaromir sooner than she might have done.”
“How are you going to make her do that?” Yulian asks curiously.
“By taking something from her.”
Just then my phone beeps and I look down at the lone text message on my screen. Just as I suspect, it’s from Misha. Four short words.
It’s done, Don Stepanov.
I can text back, but for the benefit of Yulian and Lev, I call instead.
“Don Stepanov,” Misha answers courteously.
“Can you see the land?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And it’s all set up?” I ask.