Page 36 of Devil's Retribution
“What happened if something went down?”
“The club was the hangout for anyone in the organization back then, regardless of which group. It was supposed to be neutral territory. Most people worked hard to keep it that way. But when you get a Russian man drunk enough and put his worst enemy across the room, things happen. Usually they didn’t involve guns, but fights in places like that tend to spread. So when they did, the call would go out, and we would get up and run out there to separate the two and get things settled down. It didn’t all go smoothly but I did all right.”
“And you were raising your brother in the meantime?” So strange to suddenly be handed access to him—his history, his internal world—in this way. It intrigued me, made me wonder if he wanted to draw me in. If my attraction to him might possibly be mutual. Why trust me with this otherwise?
Unless he was lying, of course. My uncle whom I’d known all my life had certainly done so. Why not Viktor who I’d known for a matter of days? While I knew he was probably spinning things in his favor as people do, so far he had been able to back up everything he’d told me.
Viktor sat silently for a few seconds, then nodded slightly. “I don’t imagine I was very good at it. But someone had to step up for the boy. Just making the effort did him good.”
I nodded slowly. “I understand a little. I had to do that for Nick. I’m guessing you already looked pretty deep into my background, but Nick isn’t mine. He’s Lucia’s.”
He nodded. “You took him in after your sister’s death?”
“Yes. One minute she was six years sober, full of hope for her future with Nick’s father. The next, he disappears out of her life and she’s drinking again. If I had only known she’d fallen off the wagon sooner, I might have been able to help. Fortunately, Nick was only a baby when it happened. But he knows his birth mom died, and that’s going to have some effect, even if kids are resilient.” I suddenly felt like I had to explain it all somehow. To justify myself.
“And his father?” His curiosity startled me, but I shrugged it off after a few moments.
“He disappeared on her. Might be dead, might have just taken the coward’s way out when he realized he didn’t want to be a father, but I know she was convinced he’d died.” I took another mouthful of wine.”
“When did he disappear?”
I gave him the closest thing to a date that I could. His frown deepened and he nodded. “Do you know what his name was?”
“Levan.”
“Levan?” Viktor asked, looking surprised.
“Yes, does that mean something?”
He shook his head, “No, not really, it’s quite a common Georgian name. It’s just I had an Uncle Levan.”
“I know almost nothing about him, to be honest. But Lucia was blonde, and we don’t have anybody with jet black hair in the family, so I figure Nick got his looks from his dad.”
Viktor chuckled. “The boy is half Georgian, like my family. That much is clear. People think of Russians as just Slavic, but we are a diverse people, I can see the Georgian in him.”
That caught my attention. “Really? I thought about gifting him a DNA test at some point, so he could learn more about where he comes from.”
“Have you thought about tracking down the father?”
I shook my head. “I wish I could, if he’s still alive. But I don’t actually have much to go on.”
There was something relieving about talking about this with Viktor. In context, that was insane. The man was still our captor. But he was so strangely easy to talk to.
It’s charm. He’s a killer. He could turn on a dime.
But if that was true, really true, how could I possibly be comfortable enough around him to be having sex dreams about him?
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I have done much to cause you trouble that, as it turns out, was unnecessary. I still need your help, and I must still keep you from returning to your normal lives just yet. I can’t change what I have done, and I will not change my ultimate goal. My brother must be avenged.” Something flared up in his eyes briefly that sent a fresh shiver through me—but it was gone again just as quickly. He hid that part of himself behind a smile again, and continued, “But I can at least compensate you in significant favors for what I have done, and for your continued cooperation.”
I stared at him, the irony hitting me like a brick. The scary gangster who had kidnapped us, whom I knew was capable of things I could barely contemplate, talked more like a rational adult than most people I had ever met. It was hard not to be persuaded by him. Not just by his silver tongue, but by the way he took responsibility as well as control.
It was like talking to some Medieval king who knew he had our fates in his hands, but wished to actually try to be noble and just, even in bad circumstances. And something about that made me even weaker in the knees around him. Once again, I started wondering if the whole surrealness of the situation was affecting my judgment. But my choices were limited. Playing along with this idea looked like my best chance to improve our circumstances. “What kind of favors are you talking about?”
His smile widened perceptibly. “I will help you find the truth behind the boy’s heritage, and his father, if he still lives. I will also help restore to you your fortune, along with whatever profit your uncle has made from it. In return, once your term of service to me has ended, you need merely keep the matter secret.”
It was tempting. But then something hit me that nearly killed the deal for me right there. He’s going to—
“Before I answer, I need you to be straight with me about something.” He nodded. I went on. “When you find my uncle, you’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”