Page 103 of Maksim
“Please, come in,” he deadpans, shutting the door.
I grab him by his shirt and throw him up against the wall, caving the drywall in farther where one of the holes is. “I should fucking kill you.”
His jaw clenches, but he merely raises his chin. “For?”
“You let me unleash a search party on Elira when you knew how to find her this whole goddamn time.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I would never go against a lieutenant’s orders. You think I would stop your search?”
“Shut up!” I lift him before slamming him back into the wall, making his nostrils flare. “You know she has my car. Have you known where she was this entire time? You little shit.”
“No,” he says through his teeth. “If I knew where your whore was, I would tell you.”
My grip on his shirt tightens. “Don’t call her that.”
“Just trying to be consistent, sir. That’s what you’ve been calling her.”
The smug look that crosses his normally expressionless features pushes me over the edge, and I rear my fist back before landing a blow to his jaw.
His head whips to the side, and there’s a split second of shock before anger starts to emanate from him. I remember this. This lack of control, always answering to someone else, taking someone’s shit. It’s how you pay your dues. Alik will never move past a smug soldier.
I pull him away from the wall to shove him in the direction of the computer desk occupying a corner of his living room. Three monitors all play the same colorful display of ribbons forming as the computer sleeps.
“Find her. Now.”
He saunters that way, his shoulders straight even as he mouths off. “How exactly am I supposed to do that?”
“Do not play stupid with me,” I bark, stomping to the computer with him. “Just do it.”
He sits down at the computer and jiggles the mouse to wake it up. A spreadsheet of numbers appears, and he minimizes the page.
“You know, I liked you for a minute there,” he says. “You had me convinced you had more character than … others.”
Others. As in Nikita.
“Yeah? You had me convinced you weren’t a conniving cunt.”
He brings up a program then types in his credentials. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“This entire time Nikita has been punishing me, I figured he had some rat following my every move, watching to check up on my loyalty. That was you, Alik. For months, you’ve been tracking me and running to Daddy every time you find something you deem interesting. I’ve been loyal to the Bratva my entire adult life. Go fuck yourself.” I shake away the betrayal. “Just find the car.”
“But you’re not loyal to the Pakhan.”
My spine stiffens as I glare at Alik’s head. He stops typing to turn to me, his expression serious.
“I’m not sure what it is you want me to do, Mr. Sokolov.”
“Find the car.”
“I am not Nikita’s pet,” he says as if he can read my mind. “I am no one’s pet. I follow orders. His, yours, Roman’s… You think you’re the only one being watched? Everyone is being watched. I found the same bug on my car that I put on yours, Roman’s, and every other lieutenant’s. It isn’t personal. It’s Petrov paranoia.”
Petrov paranoia.
I can see Nikita doing this, and hearing Alik say it calms the anger I’ve had for him.
He’s right. I’m not loyal to Nikita. I try. I try to follow his orders, respect his wishes, but… Leadership like Nikita’s isn’t sustainable. We’ve already been to war. One day, the Petrov Bratva will fall. Nikita’s paranoia isn’t paranoia, it’s intuition.
After a few seconds, I look away, Alik’s intense gaze unsettling.