“Talia is the daughter of Ivan Tolstoi, granddaughter of Matvei Tolstoi, of the Russian Bratva kings. They are our long-standing enemy. I understand that many of you will not understand how I could marry the granddaughter of the man our people were conditioned to hate. But know this: the Tolstois saved me from Jakhua.” Zaal looked to me and flicked his chin. I walked forward, pulling the attention of the crowd. With my head held high, I stood by Zaal’s side.
“This is Luka Tolstoi. He is the knyaz of the Bratva, and the brother of my fiancée.” Zaal dropped his hand,and added. “He too is now my brother.” My hands curled in my pockets as some of the men shook their heads.
“Luka Tolstoi saved my life, and thus I have pledged my loyalty to the Bratva. If you pledge to me, know that you also will be pledging yourselves to the Bratva. It is they who are providing the housing at Brighton Beach, and it is they who will help us find Zoya, and bring our dis, our taken sister, safely back home.”
Zaal stepped forward. With arms folded, he said, “If you cannot join me and make peace with the fact that our grudge against the Bratva has ended, then you are not welcome here. If you cannot live under my new ways, then you can leave, right now.”
The room was silent as the men looked to one another. One by one the men knelt, showing their allegiance to Zaal. When all the men, bar two, had expressed their loyalty, Zaal stepped forward. Otto rushed forward and took the men by the arms, lining them up against the wall.
They held their heads high as Zaal stopped before them. “You will not pledge?” Zaal asked. As he finished, one of the two older men spat at his feet.
“You disgrace your father’s name marrying that Russian whore! It is because of them that your family was killed. The Bravta cast us aside and let Jakhua destroy us.” He leaned forward. “You will never be the Lideri your father was.”
Blood boiled in my veins as that fucker called Talia a whore, but just as I fought to rein in my anger Zaal lunged forward, snapping each of the men’s necks in seconds. The dead bodies fell to the floor. Breathing hard, Zaal faced the gathering. “Anyone else feel this way? Does anyone else dare to call my Talia a whore!”
The men stayed bowed on the floor, none of them moving. My muscles jumped at seeing Zaal kill the men. My instinct to shed blood was hard to taper down.
I worked on breathing, releasing the knuckle-dusters from my hands. Zaal walked back through his men. Avto rushed forward, and with Zaal standing at the front each of the men, one by one, came forward and kissed Zaal’s hand to pledge his loyalty.
When the last man had bowed at Zaal’s feet, Zaal ordered them to gather around closely. I moved beside him. Zaal’s body was still tense when he said, “You will have two days to gather your things and move to Brighton Beach. Avto will be given the assignment of houses and place you in your positions of work.” The men all nodded.
“Then our priority will be finding my sister. Starting with any information we can find about the Georgians that have recently moved into town.”
Zaal had opened his mouth to speak again when a male, about thirty years old, raised his hand. “Lideri,” he said timidly, “I currently work here on the docks. My father, who has not long passed, placed us here years ago to watch out for any signs of our enemies. The Jakhuas.”
“And?” Zaal pushed.
“I saw Jakhua when he came back last year. He stayed in a house not too far from the docks. I didn’t see you, Lideri, but I saw him. My cousin”—he pointed to a man across the room—“my cousin works at the airfield, refueling the planes. He was there weeks ago when a private plane landed.”
I focused on the cousin and asked, “Who was in it?”
I’d spoken to him in Georgian, and stepping forward the male said, “There was a woman that dressed in all black, with what looked like a private protection of men, dressed in black, too.” He shook his head. “But there was also someone else. A hugely built man that was dressed all in black, a hood covering his head. But it was strange. He looked like he was their captive. The men were pushing him by his arms, his wrists cuffed behind his back.”
The male shook his head and raised his hand to his throat. “I saw a quick glimpse of his face when he passed. He didn’t look Georgian.” The male pointed at me. “He looked more Russian, like the knyaz. But what was strange was that he had a metal collar around his neck. He had a number of scars that were slashed down and across his face. He was the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever seen in my life.” The male looked to his cousin, then back to us. “His sweatshirt was open, and across his chest he had a tattoo. It was a number, one nine … something else. It just all seemed really weird.”
My eyes snapped to Zaal, but Zaal was already watching me. I knew what he was thinking. Who the hell was the male? If he had a tattoo, he was a slave to someone. He was one of us. Ice filled my veins when Kisa’s words from earlier circled my head: I have this awful feeling that there is more still to come. Nothing about this entire situation feels right. Right now I was having the same damn feeling.
Zaal looked to the male who’d first spoken, and said, “Why did you mention Jakhua to me?”
The male’s eyes widened, but he explained, “My cousin, before he worked at the airfield, worked with me at the docks. He recognized the woman from the plane, as the woman that would frequently visit Jakhua at the docks.”
Zaal’s hands balled at his sides. Seeing the brother about to lose it, I flicked my chin to Avto and said, “Take the men away. Have them moved to Brighton Beach as soon as possible.”
The men looked confused but left the room following behind Avto. When the door shut, Zaal threw his head back and screamed out. I stood beside him, waiting for him to calm down. Instead he paced.
“A female that knew Jakhua!” he spat, his voice low and rough. “The Pakhan was right. Jakhuas had someone coming for me, and instead they have taken Zoya. They’ve taken my fucking sister!” Zaal panted, and his hands ripped open his jacket and he threw it to the floor. He loosened his tie and, turning to the nearest wall, sent his hand plowing through the wood.
“Even from death that cunt is destroying my family!” He stopped, then faced me. “And the slave with a tattooed number across his chest? Who the hell is that? Did Jakhua have more than me? Or does he belong to this female that dresses in black?”