“Brother,” he whispered, “be strong. The next few months will test you.”
I couldn’t hear the exact words Vadim used to tell Fyodor the details of what happened; I just saw my father’s legs buckle. I saw the color drain from his face. Before that moment, I had never seen him show so much as a single trace of weakness. And in seconds, he went from ruthless Bratva pahkan to a shattered shell of a man.
There was a lesson in that moment and it taught me one thing: we are all just one tragedy from our knees.
“You have done far more than I thought was possible.” Fyodor’s listless eyes grow a little brighter.
“Leonid would have been proud.”
He doesn’t mention my brother often. Maybe that’s why it hits so hard when he does.
“That’s what I strive for every day,” I rasp. “To be the kind of pahk
