Chapter 4 Episode 4

Her daycare is not official. I tried to find a place registered with the state, but they were all tooexpensive. Krista seems nice. Her place is clean, Theo always tells me he has fun at her house, and Ihave no other options. So, I take Theo to her every day, hoping she takes care of him and doesn’teventually get shut down by her apartment complex or the city. Krista lets us in when we buzz and has the door open when we walk up the stairs. Two other kids,both younger than Theo, are sitting at a table eating oatmeal. Krista’s hair is pinned back with a clipat the base of her neck, and she is in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. Theo gives me a quick hug and darts past Krista to take his place at the table. “We’ll probably go to the park down the block, if that’s okay?” she asks.“Yeah, that’s fine. Have fun.” I wave to Theo. “I’m running behind, so I better get going. Thanks “Molly?” she says, moving towards the door. Her lips are pressed in a nervous line.“Yeah?” I prepare myself for bad news. Devastating news. Years of life kicking me while I’mdown has taught me to keep my expectations low. If I imagine the worst possibility, I can’t be caughtoff guard. “You’re behind in payments,” she says, voice low so Theo won’t hear. “You said you’d pay me “Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and shake my head. “Theo got a cold, and I had to take him to the urgent care center. The appointment cost almost one hundred dollars, and I just—” “I can manage for another week,” she says, sympathy written in the lines of her face. “But beyondthat, I can’t make any promises. He’s a growing boy, and he eats a lot. Twice what the other kids do. Ijust—” “I understand,” I say, holding up a hand to stop her. “I’ll get you the money. Thanks for being Krista gives me a tight smile, and I run down the stairs and jog five blocks to the diner where I will slave away for eight hours, making only enough money to wake up and scrape by all over again. etr kicks his feet up on the corner of my desk and leans back in his chair, arms behind hishead. If he was anyone else, I’d kick his feet off the table and threaten to break his kneecaps.As it is, he’s not only my consigliere; he’s mine and Fedor’s only living cousin. I trust him more than almost anyone else in the world. “You never checked in last night,” he says accusingly. “I had to call the maid to make sure you “Since when do I answer to you?” I ask, the words harsher than my tone.“Since you decided to go on solo missions and handle s**t your enforcers should be taking care of.” Petr raises a brow, meeting my gaze without fear. I can hear my father’s warning in my ear—Don’t let anyone challenge your authority. It’sweakness.—but I ignore it as I so often do. “The guy was middle-aged, fat, and alone. If I can’thandle him on my own, I don’t deserve to be the head of the Bratva.” Petr laughs, showing off the front tooth he chipped in a wrestling match gone wrong with Fedor when they were teenagers. “That’s true.” I lean forward, hands folded on the desk. “But I guess you’re here to tell me that certain people don’t think I deserve to be head of the Bratva, anyway.” “Don’t worry. I’ll tell them about the fat old man you killed. That will change their minds,” hesays in a teasing voice as he drops his feet to the floor and sits up. Petr has a hard time being seriousabout serious things. But then his smile fades. “People are upset.” “When aren’t people upset?” I growl. “I swear, half of my job is making sure people’s feelings “Fedor is in prison, and they worry who’s going to be next. It’s a legitimate concern.”“No, it’s really not.” I stand up and run a hand through my hair. When I turn back to face Petr, he’slooking at me like I’m an animal he’s afraid will jump the barrier and escape the enclosure. “Fedorput himself in prison.” I don’t often speak the truth about my brother. Definitely not to the Bratva. I don’t want people tolook at Fedor and feel sorry for him. Or roll their eyes at him. I don’t want people to think he’s acomplete joke. Even now, I’m trying to protect the reputation he has spent most of his life trying todestroy. “Fedor acted recklessly, didn’t cover his tracks, and refused to leave the city when I orderedhim to. He was arrested because of his own arrogance,” I say. “As long as no one else behaves thatway, they won’t be arrested. I’ll protect them.” Petr nods. “I know, but—” “But what?” My voice is loud and sharp, and Petr flinches.“The witness,” he says, meeting my eyes and then looking back at the floor. “A witness stood on the stand and identified him. That has never happened before and—” “And I took care of it last night.”“That’s too late,” Petr says, quickly adding, “according to a lot of people, anyway. He should have been taken out before the trial.” “I didn’t know his f*****g name before the trial.” I flop back down in my chair and swivel back and forth, full to bursting with nervous energy. “I know.”The words leave an unspoken echo in the room. Your father would have known his name.That’s what everyone thinks, no matter how much I’ve done for the Bratva. We have strengthenedour ties to the Mazzeo family, something my father worked hard to establish and I’ve worked evenharder to maintain. Though, I admit our alliance with the Mazzeos might be on shaky ground. There are whispers that the head of the family wants me to marry his beautiful, vivacious, and out-of-control daughter, Maria. As attractive as she is, I can’t imagine marrying her. I can’t imaginemarrying any woman. I have doubled the Bratva’s profits and fostered a sense of respect and partnership with our various business associates. Yet, I fear I will never be as good as my father in the eyes of my men. My father was feared. He called it respect, but to him, the words were interchangeable. As long as people cowered and gave him what he wanted, he was pleased. I want more than that.I want to live a life where I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting to be taken out bya rival or one of my own men. I want my men to be loyal to me because they respect me, not becauseI’ll kill them if they aren’t—though I certainly will do that if I’m betrayed. When I took over after myfather’s death, I wanted to build an actual family, and maybe I have done that. My father always saidfamilies were nothing but heartache. The Bratva has certainly been that and then some. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to meet them in the middle,” Petr suggests.I raise a brow. “What does that mean?”“Half of your men are uncertain of the future of the Bratva. They need to be reminded that you’re on their side. Let them cut loose. Have some fun. Terrorize some people.” I snort. “We aren’t boogeymen. I’m not just going to let them run free on the streets. That’s exactly what got Fedor locked up. We only strike when provoked.” Petr nods, and I can tell by the tension in his shoulders that he disagrees.“What is it?” I groan. “Just say it.”He folds his hands, thumbs tapping together. “Your father scared people so they knew what toexpect if they crossed him. Perhaps, under your style of leadership, people are forgetting what thoseconsequences look like. Perhaps,” he continues, “it would work better if you reminded them every sooften.” I’ve spent the last five years of my life thinking only about the Bratva. Focusing solely on whatwould be best for this criminal family of mine. Everything seemed to be trending towards thepositive… until Fedor got himself locked up. Suddenly, doubts are creeping in. At the first sign oftrouble, my men want to return to the lifestyle that got their previous leader shot between the eyes by arival. Maybe I should remind them of that. I have my father’s autopsy pictures locked away in a drawer somewhere. Perhaps I should remind them what his style of leadership led to. “Sorry,” Petr says. “I mean no disrespect.”I wave away his concern. Maybe I should be angry, but I’m not. I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting tokeep hold of a Bratva that seems reluctant support me, and I’m damn tired of cleaning up the messesof a brother who refuses to see the error of his ways. Speaking of Fedor, my phone buzzes, alerting me to my next meeting. “s**t,” I mumble, grabbing my phone and dismissing the alarm. “I need to go.” Petr nods and holds open my office door for me. He walks next to me down the hall and out to the