Chapter 12 Episode 12

When I finally dare to glance back, The Medusa is nothing more than a dark shape in the distance. I can’t even pick out individual figures, though I know they’re there. I duck my head and hurry down the sidewalk, past the beachfront houses and apartments. Laughter and music filters through a few windows, the sounds of carefree people enjoying their lives. How nice that must be. I leave behind the sand and sea and head to the main road. While I wait for my rideshare to arrive, I scroll through my list of texts and missed phone calls. The last call from Dane came in about three hours ago. Salma also called once, which makes me snort. As if I actually would have answered. That b***h can rot in hell for what she did. Despite my better judgment, I pull open my conversation threads and press on Dane’s icon. He’s sent me twenty-seven unanswered messages. I scroll down to the first one. It was sent right around the time I met Anton on the beach. Baby, u cant know how sorry I am. this is so f****d up. im so f****d up. If you’d just pick up ur phone, if u could just come back here, we can talk this out. Please believe me, I never meant to hurt u. It was one moment of weakness. And itll never happen again. i love u. I want you to be my wife. Remember our dream? Buying that house on Kinsey Road? Opening your own restaurant in Hudson Square? We planned a life together… remember that baby? There are more, but I close the conversation thread in disgust. How had I ever fallen for that manipulative schmuck and his lies? I won’t make that mistake again. No more shmucks. No more lies. Which is why I pull out my phone and dial the only person I know I can trust. “Chris?” I say when he answers. “Hey, Jess. I expected to hear from you hours ago. Is everything okay?” he asks breathlessly. I take a deep breath just as I see my Uber turn the corner. “No,” I tell him. “Not even close.” I stare at the spot where Jessa’s silhouette disappeared almost an hour ago. I’ve taken a risk letting her leave, but I wasn’t kidding about being able to control her. I don’t usually have a problem controlling anyone. Except, of course, the b***h this yacht was named after. “Are you worried she’s going to turn into another Medusa?” Lev asks, coming eerily close to reading my thoughts. I turn to him, catching a sudden gust of sea air. “No. This one is different.” “Is that you talking? Or your d**k?” “Are you mistaking me for my brother?” I demand. “I resent that,” Yulian complains as he joins us on the upper deck. “Maybe my d**k happens to be extremely smart, and that’s why I listen to it.” I have less than zero desire to talk about Jessa or justify my decisions with either one of them. “The body is gone?” I ask before I correct myself. “The bodies, rather.” “Gone,” Lev confirms. “Moved to our incinerator across town. In an hour, there won’t be anything left of Omer Solomon, Benyamin Meninsky, or his son.” “If the little s**t had kept his head, he might have lived.” Yulian shakes his head as though he thinks the boy’s killing was a waste. “His death is on Benyamin,” I say coldly. “The man decided to betray me and bring his i***t son along on the same night. It was a stupid move.” “The worse move was choosing the Ivanovs over us,” Lev says. I nod in agreement. “There aren’t many moves worse than that.” “You really think that Rodion had anything to do with this?” Yulian ponders. I glare at my younger brother, wondering how he could be so thick-headed. “The man has been a masterpiece in passive aggression since the funeral.” Yulian flinches at my tone. “Exactly. Passive aggressive. This move is more, I dunno… active aggressive.” “Except he didn’t move against us,” I point out. “Not obviously, at least. He had Benyamin do his dirty work so that we’d be stuck with faulty guns when the time comes.” “‘When the time comes’?” Yulian repeats. “What is that supposed to mean?” I ignore him. “There’s nothing to directly connect Rodion with the defective weapons or the f****d-up sale. He made sure that Benyamin would be the one in the line of fire. Literally and figuratively.” “Rodion is nothing if not shrewd,” Lev points out. “Which is exactly why we need to nip this thing in the bud.” “How do you propose we do that?” Lev asks. “I’ll need to meet with the man.” Lev and Yulian exchange a dubious glance. Yulian speaks up first. “You want to meet with your father-in-law?” he asks. “Why not?” I ask innocently. “I have nothing to hide. I didn’t kill his daughter.” “You can see why that might be a smidge hard to believe…” Yulian warns. I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you trying to say, brother?” “It’s no secret that you and Marina didn’t have the best relationship.” “The woman didn’t have the best relationship with anyone,” Lev chimes in. “Well… except maybe with you, Yulian.” Yulian rolls his eyes. “We barely spoke to one another.” “Which is why it worked, no doubt,” I say. Yulian snorts with laughter. “My point is, you and Marina were at each other’s throats through most of the marriage. And towards the end…” “You don’t have to remind me,” I say, cutting him off. “I know what happened. I was there.” “She told her father everything,” Yulian says anyway, as if I’d never spoken. “Every fight, every disagreement, right to his ears.” “The old bastard should have kept his nose out of my marriage.” “He’s a powerful man, Anton,” Lev advises. “Powerful men aren’t in the habit of staying out of anything, whether it’s their business or not.” “Don’t lecture me on the nature of power,” I snap. “I know very f*****g well how it works.” “Can I be honest?” Yulian asks, his expression growing wary. Lev whistles under his breath. “Oh, boy.” Lev and my younger brother are the only two men in the world who can get away with saying uncomfortable truths straight to my face. They know our respective bonds protect them. But that doesn’t mean I have to be cheery about it. “I’d rather you be silent. But I’ll take honesty if that’s the second choice.” “When I saw her body that first time, after she was found…” Yulian says, “my first thought was, ‘Anton has started a war.’” He shudders, obviously reliving the moment he stumbled across my wife’s lifeless corpse. I don’t give anything away. “You thought I had her killed?” I scoff in his face. “You know I do my own killing.” “You would have needed an alibi that night,” he says. “And you had one. You were with Lev on this very yacht.” “I do my own killing, Yulian,” I repeat, staring him dead in the eyes. He sighs. “I knew that. I know that. But I also knew how difficult things had gotten between you. I knew how tempted you were to—” “You really think, if I wanted out, I would have killed the b***h? I would have sooner divorced her.” “But s**t was bad and you didn’t,” Yulian says. “What point are you making, little brother?” I ask. “Get to it quickly. Because this is starting to sound more like an accusation.” Yulian gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m just making the point that even I, as your brother, assumed you were the one that killed Marina. What is everyone else supposed to think?” “I’m not going to defend myself to any other man on this goddamn planet,” I say. “But what I am going to do is make it clear that, if he insists on pushing this into a full-scale war, I’m prepared to fight.” “Can we win?” Lev asks, looking to me for reassurance. “We’re the Stepanovs,” I growl. “Of course we can win.” “Benyamin turned,” Yulian points out. “Benyamin and his son will be a stark reminder to everyone else of what disloyalty costs. In the meantime, we’re in the market for a new arms dealer. I want that handled ASAP.” Lev sighs. “I’ll have a list ready for you by tomorrow.” “That still doesn’t solve our bigger issue,” Yulian reminds me, even though I’m ready to put the subject to bed for now. I rub the bridge of my nose. I’m starting to get a headache. “The allies,” I mutter. “I’m aware.” “Exactly,” Yulian agrees, “the allies. Loyalties will be split down the middle. The Ivanovs are big players, too, brother. As big as us, whether you want to admit it or not.” “The Ivanovs are a tired old shitshow run by a tired old man who’s kept his wrinkled hands on the reins for far too long,” I snarl. “It’s time for Rodion to give up his crown.” “That crown was supposed to be yours,” Yulian says. “Isn’t it still?” Lev asks. “Rodion never publicly said anything, other than that his daughter’s husband would inherit the Ivanov Bratva. You are still his daughter’s husband. Technically. Well, technically-ish.” “What’s past is prologue,” I say. “None of it matters now. All that’s left is what’s coming. And what’s coming is war.”