Filthy Lies (Akopov Bratva Book 2)

In my world, “changes everything” usually means someone’s about to die. The question is who.

The gravel driveway crunches under my tires as I pull up to our secluded lake house property. Security scans reveal no immediate threats, but my instincts scream danger.

I’ve survived this long by listening to them. I don’t intend to stop now.

I step out of the car, hand resting on the gun at my hip…

… and freeze.noveldrama

Another vehicle sits parked in the shadows. Not Rowan’s. A black Mercedes with bulletproof windows and diplomatic plates.

I know that car.

My blood turns to fucking acid.

“Welcome, Vincent,” a voice calls from the porch.

The voice of Grigor fucking Petrov.

I draw my weapon in one fluid motion, aiming at the shadow-cloaked figure. “Give me one reason not to empty my clip into your skull right now.”

Grigor steps forward into the moonlight, hands raised slightly. He’s not armed—at least not visibly—though I’m certain he’s as dangerous unarmed as most men are with a machine gun.

“Perhaps because this meeting was not my idea,” he says calmly, as if my gun is a minor inconvenience. “I received a message claiming you wanted to discuss matters of mutual interest.”

The realization slams into me like a freight train. This is a setup. But who would dare⁠—?

“Take a breath, Vince.”

Rowan’s voice cuts through my fury as she steps out from inside the house.

Not just Rowan—but Rowan with Sofiya in her arms.

“What the fuck is this?” I direct the question at my wife, though my gun doesn’t waver from Grigor’s chest. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

Rowan’s green eyes—the same fucking shade as the man standing across from me—flash in the gloom. “If either of you cared about Sofiya, you’d both put away your egos and come inside. The FBI has eyes everywhere these days.”

“I’m not setting foot under the same roof as him,” I spit.

“Then you’re a fool,” Grigor replies. “And I had hoped you were smarter than your father.”

The mention of my father sends a fresh surge of hatred through me. “You don’t speak about him in my presence.”

“Gentlemen,” Rowan interrupts, “the FBI is building cases against both your organizations. While you’re busy measuring your dicks, Agent Carver is preparing to destroy everything you’ve built. Now, are you coming inside, or should I take Sofiya and leave you both to your pissing contest?”

I’ve never heard Rowan speak this way—with the authority of a woman who knows exactly how much power she wields.

It’s infuriating.

It’s also fucking intoxicating.

Reluctantly, I lower my weapon. Grigor steps aside, allowing Rowan to enter the lake house first. I follow, keeping myself between Grigor and my family, my body tensed and ready to strike at the slightest hint.

The living room is dimly lit, with files spread across the coffee table. Rowan settles into an armchair with Sofiya on her lap, leaving Grigor and me to take seats opposite each other.

Neither of us relaxes. Two lions circling, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

“I assume this little ambush was your idea,” I say to Rowan, not bothering to mask the anger in my voice.

“Would you have come if I told you Grigor would be here?” she counters.

“No.”

“Precisely why I didn’t mention it.” She shifts Sofiya to her other knee. “You’ve both been played by the FBI. They’re using each of you against the other while building cases against both families.”

Grigor’s eyes, so unnervingly similar to my wife’s, narrow slightly. “Explain.”

Rowan points to the files on the table. “That right there is a fuck ton of evidence that the FBI has been gathering on both the Akopov and Petrov organizations.”

I lean forward, scanning the documents with growing disbelief. “Where did you get these?”

“That’s not important,” Rowan says. “What matters is what they tell us. The FBI isn’t just targeting the Solovyovs. They’re using them as a test case for a new approach against organized crime families. You’re both next on the list.”

I slump back in my chair, frowning. I’d made a deal with Carver, traded the Solovyovs for my family’s safety. But these files suggest that Carver had no intention of honoring our arrangement. He was collecting evidence against me even as I handed him the Solovyovs.

Grigor picks up one of the files, his expression darkening as he reads. “This is troubling, certainly. But why bring us together? Our families have been enemies for generations.”

“Because together, we have a chance,” Rowan says simply. “Divided, we all fall.”

She stands, moving to place Sofiya in my arms. My daughter’s warm weight grounds me, even as confusion and anger battle for dominance in my mind. Sofiya reaches up to pat my face. She’s happy, utterly oblivious to the tension crackling through the room.

“Look at her, both of you,” Rowan commands. “This is what matters. Not your vendetta. Not your territories. Not your damned pride. This little girl carries both your bloodlines. She’s the future of both families, whether you like it or not.”

I gaze down at my daughter, at her blue eyes, set in a face that somehow echoes Grigor’s features through Rowan.

“What do you propose?” Grigor asks after a long silence.

Rowan returns to her seat. “That we erase the lines between us and draw new ones.”

“You expect me to trust him?” I can’t keep the incredulity from my voice.

“I expect you both to be pragmatic,” Rowan replies. “The FBI doesn’t need to destroy you directly. They just need to keep you fighting each other while they pick apart your operations one by one.”

Grigor studies Rowan with an expression I can’t quite read. “Your wife is quite the strategist, Vincent,” he remarks.

He’s not wrong. She’s forcing us to see beyond ourselves. Beyond our hatred. Beyond the blood-soaked legacy we both inherited.

“We do this for Sofiya,” I say finally, meeting Grigor’s gaze directly. “For my daughter’s future.”

“On that, at least, we are in agreement,” Grigor replies.

For the next two hours, we hammer out the framework of a truce that isn’t quite peace but is far from war. Territories are divided with precision. Information channels established. Rules of engagement defined for when conflicts inevitably arise.

Through it all, Rowan guides the conversation with a diplomat’s touch. I find myself watching her more than Grigor, marveling at this side of her I’ve never fully appreciated.

A queen making bold moves on a chessboard occupied by kings.

When the meeting concludes, Grigor stands and offers his hand—not to me, but to Rowan.

“Your mother would be proud,” he tells her. “She had the same gift for seeing paths where others saw only walls.”

Rowan accepts his hand briefly, then steps back to my side, where she belongs.

Grigor nods once, then turns to me. “Take care of them, Akopov. They are precious beyond measure.”

“You don’t need to tell me how to protect my family,” I growl.

A hint of a smile flits across his lips. “No, I suppose I don’t.” He moves toward the door, pausing on the threshold. “I’ll have my man contact Dimitri with the FBI surveillance updates, as agreed.”

And then he’s gone, leaving only the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

No one says a word as we listen to Grigor’s car fade into the distance. When I’m certain he’s truly gone, I turn to face my wife, who stands defiantly before me, chin raised and shoulders squared.

“You manipulated me,” I accuse. “You lied to get me here.”

“I did what was necessary,” she counters. “What neither of you was willing to do.”

I close the distance between us, looming over her. “You don’t make these decisions, Rowan. Not about my business. Not about my enemies.”

“They’re not just your enemies anymore.” Her eyes flash as she pushes a finger into my chest. “Grigor is my father. My daughter’s grandfather. And whether you like it or not, my family.”

Sofiya stirs in my arms, disturbed by our rising voices. I rock her gently until she calms. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, quieter now. “Why go behind my back?”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened,” Rowan says simply. “You’d have seen it as a betrayal rather than the opportunity it is.”

“Opportunity?” I scoff. “To what? Hold hands with Grigor Petrov and sing fucking kumbaya?”

“To create a network neither of you could build alone.” Rowan paces the room as she speaks, passion igniting her words. “Think about it, Vince. I bridge both worlds. I have access to information neither of you can get. Connections neither of you can exploit.”

“You should have trusted me.”

“Like you trusted me about your plan to kill him?” she fires back. “Like you trusted me about your offshore accounts?”

I have no choice but to sigh. We’ve both kept secrets. We’ve both manipulated the truth to get what we want.

We can move past that…

… if I let us.

I place Sofiya in her portable crib, ensuring she’s settled before turning back to Rowan. The fight sluices away from me, replaced by a grudging admiration I can’t suppress.

“You’re terrifying,” I tell her. It’s the highest compliment I can offer.

“Takes one to know one.”

I close the distance between us again, this time with different intent. My hands find her hips and drag her roughly against me. “Don’t ever go behind my back like that again.”

“Then don’t give me a reason to.”

Her defiance ignites something in me. I crush my mouth to hers. It’s punishment; it’s praise; it’s both; it’s everything. She responds instantly, her body melting into mine even as her teeth nip at my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

I lift her until her legs wrap around my waist. We collide with the wall, but neither of us notice or care.

“I should be furious with you,” I growl against her throat, leaving marks that will bloom purple by morning.

“You are,” she gasps as my fingers sneak beneath her skirt. “But you’re also impressed.”

I thrust two fingers inside her, feeling her clench around me. “You think you’re so fucking clever.”

“I am.” She throws her head back as I curl my fingers against the spot that makes her shudder. “I— Fuck, Vince.”

My cock strains against my pants, desperate to be inside her. I free myself with my other hand and hike her leg over my hip.

“What you did today,” I say, pausing at her threshold, “was either the bravest thing I’ve ever seen or the stupidest.”

“It was necessary.” Her nails dig into my shoulders through my shirt. “Now, stop talking and fuck me.”

I drive into her with one brutal thrust, swallowing her cry with another kiss. There’s no gentleness between us now. We’re long past that.

I fuck her against the wall, her legs locked around my waist, her body taking every punishing thrust like she was made for me.

And she was, I realize. Made to challenge me. To defy me. To complete me in ways I never knew I needed.

“I want you pregnant again,” I growl into her ear as I feel her tightening around me. “I want to put another baby inside you. Tonight.”

Her eyes fly open, meeting mine as I drive deeper. “Yes,” she gasps, and I can’t tell if she’s agreeing or just responding to the pleasure until she adds, “Yes, Vince. Give me another baby.”

The words send me over the edge. I come with a roar, spilling deep inside her, making her mine in the most savage way possible. She follows before I’m even halfway finished, her body convulsing around mine, milking every drop.

“Next time,” I murmur against her lips, “tell me before you invite my worst enemy to dinner.”

Rowan smiles, the wild, dangerous smile I’ve come to crave. “Where would the fun be in that?”