Page 47 of Forever My Saint

“Only when he presumed I was dead did he have the balls to show his face again, and thanks to my mother interfering, he was able to get in touch with Astra and Oscar.”

Something clicks into place, and I remember the night of the poker game when Astra was able to convince Alek to play by using her necklace as a wager. That necklace belonged to his mother, and at the time, I wondered why Astra had it.

It seems she had it because it was given to her by Alek’s mom, something which angered Alek enough to throw good sense to the wind.

“What do you mean Zoya interfered?” I ask, needing to fill the holes in the story.

Alek’s nostrils flare as he exhales heavily. Ingrid gently touches his shoulder in support. “It means my mother is still a pathetic weakling. When I killed her husband, I made sure she knew never to contact me again. But over the years, she and Astra kept in touch. My mother always had a soft spot for her as she was the daughter she never had. Their contact didn’t bother me as long as Astra never mentioned her to me. But now, I’m bothered.

“My mom failed one son, so it seems she wants to make amends with her second. Without her, Serg wouldn’t have been able to contact Astra or Oscar because they never knew he existed. I ensured that little bastard was never linked to my name.”

Well, I did not see that coming.

“But now they do. And they trust him because my mom is vouching for him.”

“That’s why you wanted that necklace back?” I ask, not needing to explain which one. “Your mom gave that to Astra as a message, didn’t she? She wanted you to know that she was still in your life, one way or another.”

Alek’s jaw clenches. “Yes. That necklace was my grandmother’s, my father’s mother, and by giving that to Astra, she was giving me a clear fuck you. She never forgave me for killing Boris. And now it seems history is repeating itself because just as she tried to fill my father’s shoes with Boris, she is trying to fill my shoes with Serg.”

“So she has no idea you’re still alive?” I ask, my head reeling.

“No, I don’t think so. From what we’ve heard from that meeting Oscar had with Serg and her, they believe I’m dead. Oscar, though, he isn’t convinced, and he knows that by doing business with them, it will bring me out of hiding.”

“Why?”

“Because I will never allow that little shit to take my place. He will never be me!” Alek shouts, slamming his palms onto the table.

This is personal for Alek, and I can understand his need for vengeance. His issues with his mother shaped him into the person he is today. By allowing this to happen, does he feel like he is letting his father down somehow?

“Serg knows some low-level dealers but not big enough to fulfill the demand. Serg found Chow because he was indiscreet, which is why things ended for him the way that they did.” His flippant explanation is wrong, so wrong. “Serg says he has a new supplier, but Adam isn’t stupid. From what I can tell, he’s lying low. So it’s got to be someone else. But who? They have a meeting in two weeks.”

“So Oscar and Astra are trusting him on word alone?” I question, arching a brow.

“If manipulation was an Olympic sport, my mother would be the world champion,” Alek replies with a scowl.

“I don’t understand why she’s helping him. Wouldn’t she want a better life for her son?” I realize what I’ve said, but it’s too late. Alek frowns, taking my words to heart because she didn’t care enough to save him.

“To someone who loves money first, second, and last, she doesn’t care. She saw how I built my enterprise, and now, she wants in.”

I didn’t get that impression from her, though. Serg, I instantly took a dislike to. But Zoya seemed…nice. But what do I know?

“So what’s the plan?”

Pavel cracks his neck from side to side, which is never a good sign.

Alek looks around, clearly not wanting Sister Margaret to overhear. “We let this so-called meeting take place and watch and learn. We learn who the main players are, and then we bring down the empire, brick by brick. We can’t act until we know every single player who’s involved.”

“Why can’t we just go to the police?” I question. Alek’s plan sounds like it’ll end messy and bloody.

Zoey shakes her head, appearing amused by my comment. “And tell them what exactly? Ingrid and I are ex-sex slaves? Pavel is responsible for countless bombings around Russia? Alek used to be Russia’s number one bad guy? Most unsolved mafia murders were done by Saint? And you were kidnapped and sold? Is that what you want to tell them?”

When phrased like that, I can see the reason behind her amusement. But this plan just sounds like another suicide mission.

“Zoey is right,” Alek says while she gloats. “The police are corrupt. They will side with whoever has the biggest dollar signs and influence attached to their names. I have tried to reach out to my former contacts, but no one wants to help. I am an outsider now. No one trusts me after all that’s happened.”

What he really means is when he showed a softer side with me. Leaders can’t be weak. And that’s what everyone thinks of Alek now.

Running a hand down my face, I realize this is really happening. “Okay, so we watch and learn? And then what?”