Alexandr's Reluctant Submissive (17 page)

Thinking back to how she had to pull it together for her daughter, despite the fact that she was barely functioning, Jessica nodded. “After Tatiana was born, I went through a really bad time. If I had my way I would have stayed in my room, trying to sleep my life away so I didn’t have to face the pain of being awake. I probably would have never left my room except my little girl needed me so much. She depended on me for
everything
and I was trying to do it all on my own. Thankfully my wonderful nanny started working for me and she recognized the signs of postpartum depression right away.”

“What is postpartum depression?”

“It’s when a woman gets very, very sad after she has a baby, sometimes violent, but not in my case.”

Vera folded her hands on her lap, the gigantic diamond ring glittering on her manicured finger.  “Yes, we call it something different but we know what is.”

“You got better?” Polina asked in a low voice while rubbing her stomach.

“Yes. I went to the doctors and they put me on medication to help pull me out of my depression.” She flushed, a hint of embarrassment heating her body at admitting to the fact that she had to take drugs to stay sane. “It took a few months, but once they started to work with my body, I began to return to my old self. So yes, I understand wanting to cry until you pass out, but our children will always come first.”

Slowly nodding, Vera gave her a small smile and visibly relaxed. “It will take a strong, compassionate woman to stand at Alexandr’s side. I am glad to see that he has one. Now, let us discuss who is trying to kill you.”

Alex shifted in the hefty leather chair he’d been sitting in on and off for the past seven hours and fought to keep his attention on the presentation. While he knew he should give all the candidates equal attention, he also knew the one being shown to them now would not get Alex’s vote for
Pakhan
of the Dubinski
Bratva
.

Across the room from Alex, his friend Ivan laced his fingertips together beneath his chin as they stared at the hologram of a tall, lanky man with deep-brown hair and a dour expression.

Matvey Yemilin, one of the candidates put forward to Petrov for his consideration as heir. There were easily two dozen men in the room, all of Petrov’s most loyal men and allies. Including Efim Boldin, Kostya’s uncle. That sharp-eyed old man kept studying Alex as they went through the candidates, but he ignored him. Many people were watching him right now, because they knew how much Petrov valued his input. Not only was Alex loyal to Petrov, he was also adept at reading people, and he knew the men in this room well enough to decipher most of what they were thinking.

And right now, the majority was unimpressed with Matvey.

He was a good candidate, a loyal soldier, and respected member of the community. But he was hesitant at times and that was something a
Pakhan
could never be. A man who hesitated was the one who took the bullet first. That made him a good mediator, but a bad solider.

That was the running theme of the day with the nominees. Good in one area, but not versatile enough to run an empire in a violent world. Dimitri sat next to Alex, with Petrov on his other side. His uncle had a notepad before him as if he was taking down information while each candidate was presented, but in reality it was a large stack of legal documents that Petrov was signing. Alex did not allow his gaze to wander over to the papers because that would be an invasion of his uncle’s privacy, and an insulting betrayal of trust. So despite his curiosity, he forced himself to pay attention to the slowly rotating hologram of Matvey and the statistics being displayed next to his image.

They’d been going over candidates with Petrov’s High Council for what seemed like forever. Jessica and Tatiana had left for home long ago, and his gut twisted every time he thought of them being there alone. Well, as alone as they could be with an army of people devoted to their protection surrounding them. He wondered if Jessica was going to be upset that he’d had to stay behind, but she’d seemed pensive when they parted, yet loving. Something had happened while she’d talked with his aunt and cousin, and he could only hope that whatever they said hadn’t upset her.

For a brief moment he could feel the slender arms of his daughter around his neck as she’d hugged him goodbye. While he held her, she’d whispered in his ear that Mommy told her it was time for him to do superhero stuff and Tatiana wished him good luck saving the city. The memory lifted his spirit a bit, and he had to force himself to pay attention to the auditor reading off Matvey’s financial history.

A loud, exasperated sigh filled the air and from across the room, Efim Boldin stood from his elegant black leather chair and leaned forward, planting his gnarled fists on the table. In his late eighties, his once powerful frame had shrunk somewhat, but his hard gaze remained the same. He was a staunch supporter of Petrov, but had been one of the most vocal about there being no peace between the Boldin and Novikov
Bratvas
.

At least he had at first.

Through sheer will and determination, Alex wore the old man down, not giving up until he made Efim see that peace between them was possible, that letting pride stand in their way was a sin against their families. Now, while he would never consider the old bastard a friend, there was a grudging respect between them.

Curious as to what was going on, he sat up straighter and focused on every line and wrinkle of the aged man’s face, calling on his memories to know what each slight change in expression meant.

“We are wasting time, Petrov,” Efim announced, his lips thinned with annoyance, but his gaze was direct and clear. “There is only one man who can fulfill your role well enough to ensure the continued peace and prosperity for our people.”

Voices rose in dissent, and Dimitri exchanged a glance with Alex but kept silent.  It was better to let the other men show their reactions. And reacting they were, yelling at each other while Petrov tapped his pen against the stack of papers before him. Without raising his voice, he simply said, “Enough. My decision has been made.”

“But—”

Petrov held his hand up and his platinum-and-diamond cufflink flashed in the light. “Come here and read this before you speak again, old friend.”

Efim grumped, but he stood and made his way around the massive table to where Petrov sat. The temptation to look down at what his uncle had written tore at Alex, but now Petrov kept the papers guarded from everyone but Efim. The old man pulled out his glasses from the inner pocket of his suit, then put them on and squinted as he read whatever document Petrov had decided to show him.

After scanning his gaze over the page twice, he handed the paper back with a sharp nod. “Wise choice.”

While Efim made his way back to his seat, Petrov slowly pushed his chair back then stood, his gaze focused on the documents before him. The room grew hushed, only the faint sound of breathing mixing with a few men shifting here and there. Never had the power that his uncle wielded been more evident than when a room filled with some of the most influential men in the world fell silent to hear him speak.

The hair along Alex’s arms prickled and a surge of adrenaline flooded his muscles with strength. A feeling went through him, a knowing, that whatever his uncle was about to say was going to change his life forever. The unpleasant shiver that raced down his spine sent a bolt of apprehension through him, but he fought it off.

“For many years,” Petrov began, “I have witnessed some of the greatest and worst men come to power throughout the world. Leaders who took their people to unparalleled safety and success, while other men poisoned and corrupted everything they touched. As my friends, you know one of my mottos is, ‘Those that ignore history are doomed to repeat it’. It is when we do not learn from our past mistakes, when we do not strive to rise above the circumstances that we are born into, that we become weak and easily defeated. A strong man pays attention to the sacrifices of those that have come before him, of what he may be required to do in order to protect his family.”

Murmurs of agreement filled the air while Alex watched his uncle, absorbing the man’s wisdom.

“But there lies the true heart of the problem. The man who would lead my people needs to be a man of honor and compassion, but also a ruthless predator who will do what is necessary to protect those who he loves.” His voice lowered, threaded with some intense emotion Alex could not name. “There will come a time, gentlemen, when the very fabric of our society will crumble. It is inevitable, look to history. We are in a time of prosperity, wealth, and unparalleled access to knowledge, but much like ancient Rome, we are crumbling from within. The place we stand in is soaked in the blood of our ancestors who fought to keep what is ours. That turn of the wheel may be on us sooner than we think, taking us from a time of prosperity to a time of strife. It will take a brave, smart,
ruthless
man to endure and thrive.”

Dimitri stiffened next to Alex and the quick glance they exchanged was filled with worry. If Uncle Petrov was warning of bad things on the horizon, only a fool wouldn’t pay attention. And he had a point; the history of the Russian people, of humanity in general, was filled with death and chaos. To hope that the world would be any different from now until the end of time was a foolish dream. His thoughts turned to Jessica and Tatiana, the primitive need to defend them tightening his muscles even as he strained to remain impassive.

There were other worried glances around the table, and even the bodyguards looked shocked at what Petrov had said.

“With this in mind, there was only one man who would take care of my people as I would. One man who has proven himself over and over again to be trustworthy and reliable. He knows what the loss of a loved one does to a man’s soul, how it could twist his heart to hatred, but he has always chosen the honorable path…well—as honorable as we are among ourselves.”

This drew some quiet laughter that broke the tension a bit. From his left, he caught the incredulous sight of Ivan grinning, wide. When he noticed Alex looking at him, the fucker winked as if he knew the secret to some inside joke. As he tried to puzzle out Ivan’s reaction, he turned back to Petrov—only to find his uncle looking closely at him.

“Upon my death, Alexandr Petrov Novikov will inherit the role of
Pakhan
from me, with the condition that he change his last name to Dubinski and absolve himself of all business ties to the Novikov
Bratva
. Family ties will, of course, be permitted and encouraged.”

 Blood rushed through his ears in a deafening roar as his heart sped, his mind refusing to believe he’d just heard his uncle offer him the Dubinski
Bratva
, the sixth most powerful criminal organization in the world.

He’d have to give up his name, and despite his hatred for his father, that pained him deeply.

But the Dubinski
Bratva
…his family would be safe.

The course of the world changed as he stood and took Petrov’s offered hand, his voice rough with emotion as he said, “I would be honored.”

Cheers rose from around the room as he was suddenly embraced by his friends, the congratulations raining down on him, some sincere, some not.

For what seemed like hours, but was probably less than thirty minutes, he talked with everyone, trying to get a grasp on what had just happened without being obvious. Eager to get home and share the news with Jessica, he made his way through the small group, stopping to shake a hand quickly or accept a pat on the back, before finding his uncle surrounded by some not-so-happy men.

To his surprise, Efim wasn’t among them. When Alex passed him, the old man smirked, then patted him on the back and walked away with a grinning Kostya at his side. If he wasn’t misreading things, Efim had been about to suggest Alex as a nomination when his uncle spoke.

He clasped his uncle’s shoulder. “I regret that I must leave, but I need to be with Jessica and Tatiana right now.”

“Of course,” Petrov said in a low voice as he moved them over to a quiet corner of the crowded room. “I wish I could have named you sooner, but I had to let them present their candidates. Vera was cross with me because she couldn’t be as honest with Jessica as she wanted. Your wife, by the way, has a huge fan now in my wife and daughter. They adore her and Tatiana, so expect them to be in your life, meddling around constantly.”

He couldn’t help but laugh despite the intense nature of his day. “Like they do not meddle already?”

The smiled dropped from Petrov’s face and the gravity of his expression disturbed Alex. “Someday, they will be your responsibility.”

“I will always take care of them, you have my word.”

For a moment Petrov looked as if he wanted to say something, but ended up shaking his head instead. They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, before Petrov shook his head again and gave Alex a gentle push. “I have so much to tell you, but it can wait. If you take away one thing from tonight, let it be my warning. Diversify our land holdings; build us sustainable colonies around the world. Make them defendable.”

“Against what?”

“Everything.”

The entire ride home he’d brooded about his uncle’s words, that sense of impending doom tickling at him again. He wondered if he had some form of PTSD from Jessica’s loss. Thanks to his father’s mental illness, he was well studied on the subject and knew what signs to look for. Now that he finally had a moment to contemplate in the silence of the car, he was able to analyze his own response to the things he’d learned tonight.

Like the fact that with the scratch of a pen before he’d left, he’d ceased to be Alexandr Novikov and became Alexandr Dubinski.

Stroking his beard, he stared out at the world slipping past his window, marveling at how quickly things could change. Nothing was permanent, all he could do was enjoy the moments he had while he had them. His reflection smiled back at him as he thought about Jessica waiting for him in bed, the sheets warm from her body, the scent of her permeating the air. Across the hall from her, their daughter slept in her own bed, a miracle in itself.