Filthy Lies (Akopov Bratva Book 2)

When Arkady told me that Daniil and Anastasia were at our perimeter, injured and desperate, I knew our stolen moment of peace was over.

Now, twenty-four hours later, I’m staring down the barrel of another kind of invasion.

“This is unacceptable, Vincent.” Mikhail Volkov’s fist crashes against the conference table. “Harboring a Petrov? In your home? With your wife and child?”

The emergency council meeting has devolved exactly as I expected. Twelve men, each with the power to command small armies, sit around my table, questioning my judgment. My loyalty. My commitment.

My fucking sanity.noveldrama

“Daniil has proven his value,” I respond, keeping my voice as level as humanly possible despite the rage boiling just beneath my skin. “And Anastasia is under my protection.”

“You speak of protection?” Boris Barsukovic sneers from across the table. “While housing the son of our greatest enemy? While your own father sits under house arrest?”

I don’t miss the way his eyes flick toward the door where I know Rowan is tending to Sofiya. Motherfucker is threatening me.

“My decision stands.” I maintain eye contact with Boris.

I dare him to push further.

He does.

“Perhaps fatherhood has made you soft, Akopov.” His lips curl into something resembling a smile. A snake’s smile, that is. “Perhaps that pretty wife and little daughter of yours have distracted you from your responsibilities.”

Every man at the table goes still. They recognize the line that’s been crossed.

I don’t move. Don’t blink. Don’t breathe. Until…

“Say that again.”

Boris shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of his mistake. But pride makes him double down.

“I said—” he begins.

I’m across the table before he finishes, my hand around his throat, squeezing just enough to remind him how fragile the human windpipe truly is. His eyes bulge as I drag him from his chair.

“My daughter’s name doesn’t belong in your filthy mouth,” I hiss, tightening my grip. “My wife is not a distraction. They are the fucking reason I’m sitting at this table instead of burning this organization to the ground and you along with it.”

Boris claws at my hand, face purpling. The other council members watch, frozen.

No one intervenes. No one dares.

“You think I’m weak because I protect what’s mine?” I continue. “You think love makes me vulnerable?” I lean closer, close enough to see the bursting capillaries in his eyes. “Love makes me more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”

I release him suddenly. He collapses to his knees, gasping and clutching his throat.

“Anyone else want to question my commitment?” I scan the table, meeting each man’s eyes in turn.

Silence is the only answer.

I straighten my jacket and return to my seat. “Good. Now, as I was saying, Daniil and Anastasia will remain under my protection. This is not negotiable.”

The rest of the meeting proceeds without incident. When it concludes, the men file out silently, giving Boris a wide berth as he stumbles toward the door, still massaging his throat.

Arkady stays behind until we’re alone. “That was effective,” he observes.

I stare at my hands. “Was it?” I ask. “Or did I just prove I’m exactly what they think I am?”

“You proved you’re not to be fucked with.” Arkady shrugs. “Sometimes, that’s enough.”

But it’s not enough. Not anymore.

I dismiss Arkady and make my way to the nursery where I know I’ll find them.

Rowan stands by the crib, humming softly as she watches Sofiya sleep. The sight punches me in the gut every single time. Today is no exception.

She turns when I enter. “How bad was it?” she asks quietly.

“Bad enough.” I move beside her and gaze down at our daughter. “Boris Barsukovic made the mistake of using you and Sofiya to question my commitment.”

Rowan’s eyes bulge. “Is he still breathing?”

“Barely.”

She studies my face. “You’re troubled.”

“I nearly killed a man in front of the entire council because he mentioned my daughter’s name.” I run a hand through my hair. “That’s not exactly the image of controlled leadership.”

“It’s the image of a father protecting his child.” Her hand finds mine, squeezing once. “And it’s the only language some of these men understand.”

I bring her hand to my lips. “The council wants Daniil and Anastasia gone.”

“And what do you want?”

What do I want? The old Vince would have eliminated the problem immediately. But that Vince died a long time ago.

“I want to protect what’s ours,” I say finally. “But I don’t know if harboring them helps or hurts that goal.”

Rowan turns to face me fully. “They came to us for help, Vince. They trusted us when they had nowhere else to go. That means something.”

“It means they’re desperate.”

“It means we represent something to them.” She touches my cheek, forcing me to look at her. “Hope. Possibility. The chance that maybe, just maybe, we can break this cycle of violence and revenge.”

I scoff. “You sound like a Hallmark card.”

“And you sound like your father.” Her eyes flash with challenge. “Is that who you want to be?”

The barb lands exactly where she intended. I step back, stung.

Sighing, I move to the window and peer out at the security lights cutting through the darkness. My world has always been divided into clear categories: allies and enemies, assets and liabilities, those who live and those who die.

Daniil and Anastasia blur those lines.

Just as Rowan did.

“The old ways aren’t working anymore,” Rowan says, coming to stand beside me. “Maybe it’s time for something new.”

I sigh as her head comes to rest on my shoulder. Her fingers are small and cool as she cups the crook of my elbow, but it’s exactly the balm I need against my heated nerves.

“Daniil saved my life once,” she reminds me gently. “He helped you find me when I was taken. That deserves something.”

She’s right. Again. Always fucking right in ways that demolish my certainties.

“I’ll speak with them tomorrow,” I decide. “Offer them protection, but with conditions. Clear boundaries. For now, we let them rest.”

Rowan nods against my chest. “It’s a start.”

In the crib, Sofiya stirs. Rowan bends to scoop her up.

“Hey there, little one,” she coos. “Did Daddy’s brooding wake you up?”

Despite everything, I smile. Rowan brings Sofiya to me, and I take her carefully, still amazed at how something so small can hold such power over me.

My daughter blinks up at me with unfocused eyes—my eyes—and I feel the last of my resistance crumble.

For her, I would rewrite the rules of my world. For her, I would become something new.

A man who keeps his promises, even to his enemies’ children.

“Alright,” I whisper to Sofiya. “Let’s try it your mama’s way.”