The Russian Reborn

by Red Phoenix

  “The full inheritance will not be yours until a stipulated age. At the age your grandfather deemed you would be old enough to control the power behind such wealth.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “If that is true, why would my father lead me to believe the inheritance had been passed down to him instead?”

  “Such blatant deceit speaks to his hidden motive.”

  Nikolay now has my full attention. Nothing involving my father is ever good. “What are you saying?”

  “I firmly believe Vladimir hoped you would instigate your own demise. It’s the only way the inheritance would end up in his hands.”

  I suddenly feel the hairs rise on my neck.

  “What exactly are you implying?” I demand.

  He frowns. “Your grandfather’s inheritance would automatically revert to his only son should you commit suicide. If your father could keep you ignorant of your wealth, it would give him significant leverage to begin stripping away your will to live.”

  A horrifying thought flashes through my head as I process what he’s saying. My grandfather had given me the ring just two months before I started courting Tatianna…

  My heart starts pounding. “It’s not possible.”

  The idea of this is too horrendous. I have openly hated Titov this entire time for his involvement with the bratva because it led to Tatianna’s death.

  But, what if her kidnapping had not been Titov’s fault?

  A cold chill overtakes me as I think back on that day when Titov came banging on my door.

  Yuri was the one who sold her to pay off his gambling debt, but I never saw that maggot again, even though I’ve tried to hunt him down. I’ve always assumed he went into hiding because he knew he was a dead man. But what if…

  What if Vladimir had Yuri killed to eliminate any evidence that he was behind Tatianna’s kidnapping?

  I struggle to breathe.

  If me committing suicide has always been my father’s intention, then he had come dangerously close to succeeding. I’d wanted to follow Tatianna after she committed suicide.

  It was only my mother’s insistence that I leave for America that prevented me from following through back then.

  And now, she is dead.

  Oh, God…

  They are both dead because of me.

  “You should have let me kill him!” I cry out in rage.

  Nikolay keeps his calm demeanor, stating, “You already know why I could not.”

  I glare at him with a hatred so deep that it suffocates me. “I am not grateful to be alive today. I owe you nothing but my wrath at the injustice your interference has caused.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he answers, “I do not expect your gratitude.”

  “Then why am I here? What the hell do you want from me?” Tears of rage well up in my eyes.

  When Nikolay gives me a look of compassion, I fight the urge to wipe it from his face with my fist.

  “Let me be completely frank with you.” He moves closer, resting his hand on my shoulder. “Your father is unworthy of the power your grandfather’s inheritance will give him. I prefer it goes to the man it was meant for.”

  “Why would you care?” I spit angrily.

  He squeezes my shoulder. “Like I said, your grandfather and I respected each other. My profound respect for him extends to you.”

  I narrow my eyes, giving him the bad news. “Whether you like it or not, my father will die.”

  “As long as it’s of ‘natural causes’, I have no issues with that.”

  I realize Nikolay is giving me permission to kill Vladimir in a manner that won’t raise suspicion. As long as I am the one to end his life, I have no problem with that.

  “I will see to it that Vladimir Durov dies a slow, painful, and humiliating death—by natural causes, of course,” I tell him.

  “Good.”

  Nikolay snaps his fingers and one of his men enters the room. “Rytsar Durov must be leaving. See to it that he gets to his destination safely.”

  “Da, Pakhan.”

  I look at Nikolay realizing that he has not only opened my eyes to the truth, but has also given me the opportunity to make things “right’ with my father. Had I not known then what I know now, I would have killed the vile wretch without understanding the full extent of his crimes.

  Now, I can give him the kind of death he deserves—from one sadist to another.

  I hold out my hand to Nikolay. “Thank you.”

  He shakes it firmly, stating, “Lead the Durov family well.”

  I nod.

  As I’m escorted out of the room, I turn back and tell Nikolay, “Don’t die overly soon.”

  He smirks. “Goodbye, Anton Durov, grandson of Fedor Durov.”

  As I leave the Koslov headquarters, I feel the open stares of everyone I pass. Even though I can’t remember what happened last night, the fearful looks in their eyes suggest I’ve left an impression none of them will forget.

  That will serve me well.

  Reconciliation

  I am in a state of shock as I drive away, and the only place I can think to go is Titov’s. As I pull up to his place, the conversation I had with my mother just yesterday pops into my mind.

  “I have every right to hate Titov. Every right!”

  “Just know he hurts, too.”

  Oh, Mamulya…

  Tears run down my face unheeded.

  “I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong.”

  I had no idea back then who the real danger was. But, it wasn’t Titov.

  I wipe away my tears as I get out of the car. After taking several deep breaths, I walk up to his porch and ring the doorbell.

  When Titov opens the door, he immediately frowns, his eyes set in an angry glare. “I have nothing to say, and seeing you only brings me pain.” He shoos me away. “Go away, Rytsar.”

  I grab his arm and hold him in place as I admit, “I was wrong.”

  He stares at me, confused and surprised by my admission.

  “I was wrong to blame you for Tatianna.”

  He shakes his head, looking bereft. “Nyet. You are right. My association with Yuri caused her death, and I will never forgive myself for that.”

  I see the devastation in his eyes as he thinks back on the tragic events leading up to his sister’s death and it’s clear he is suffering as much as I am.

  “Can I come inside? I have something I need to tell you.”

  Titov seems startled by my request, but steps aside to let me in. We sit down at his small kitchen table and I stare him straight in the eye. “Would you like to help me kill the man who is to blame?”

  His jaw drops. “What? Did you finally locate Yuri?”

  Shaking my head, I inform him, “I suspect Yuri is already dead.”

  “Who, then?” Titov demands, his anger pushing him to stand and take a step backwards.

  My nostrils flare and I feel my eyes grow wet as I admit the terrible truth out loud. “It was my father.”

  Titov’s face goes white. “What?”

  “Not only is Tatianna dead because of him but…now my mother is, too.” I choke out the last few words, barely reigning in my grief.

  “What is this? You’re telling me that your mother is dead?” Titov cries, tears coming to his eyes.

  I states the facts devoid of any emotion. “An assassin came last night as payment for my father’s gambling debt. Does that sound familiar to you?”

  Titov’s eyes widen. He understands what that implies, but then he shakes his head, not believing it. “No…how can she be dead?”

  I close my eyes, fighting against the grief that threatens to consume me. His walks over and I suddenly feel his stiff arms around me. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Anton.”

  I’m not prepared for his sympathy, and I do not return the hug. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to control my emotions, so I simply endure it.

  After he lets go, he sits back down. I can see he’s visibly shaken by the news.

&nbs
p; “My father is responsible for both of their deaths.”

  “But why?” he demands. “Why would he want them killed?”

  I have blamed Titov for years, but the irony is that I am to blame for Tatianna’s death. It was her association with me that spelled her doom.

  He may come to hate me once he knows, but he deserves to hear the truth from me. “I recetly learned that I will be receiving my grandfather’s inheritance. My father lusts after the money but can only lay claim to it if I die.”

  “Then why not simply kill you?” Titov asks bluntly.

  I let out a long, heavy sigh. “Suicide is the only way it will revert to him, but there can be no hint that I was murdered.”

  Titov stares as me as he processes the news. He shakes his head again, tears coming to his eyes. “Why my sister?”

  “My father knew I loved her and he hoped that by destroying her, he could get his way. It was a shrewd and heartless plan.” Tears fill my own eyes and I growl. “I now have lost the two most important women in my life because of my father, and I demand revenge.”

  He stands up quickly, shooting his chair out of the way. “Then why are we still here? He needs to die now!”

  I gesture to him, wanting him to sit back down. “I attempted to kill him last night, but was stopped by Nikolay.”

  “Why would the Koslovs care?” Titov snarls, angry that we are still talking instead of leaving to kill my father.

  “Titov, the brothers have granted my father their protection.”

  He furrows his brow, as reality starts to set in. “But shouldn’t you be dead then?”

  I nod. “Nikolay spared my life because he agrees my father should die.”

  Knowing that we have the blessing of the Koslov Pakhan, Titov immediately asks, “What do you want me to do?”

  I smirk, grateful for his offer to help. “I want you to secure some ricin.”

  “Poison?” he growls. “I want to rip him apart limb by limb! Where is the satisfaction in that? I need him to feel my wrath.”

  “I understand, Titov, and I promise he will feel your wrath, but it must appear that he died of natural causes. It is the only way Nikolay can condone his death without interfering.”

  “It’s not good enough!”

  “Look at me,” I command. Gazing deep into his eyes, I vow, “I promise you—it will be.”

  Letting out a ragged sigh, Titov agrees to it, albeit resentfully. “Fine. I trust you but I do not like it.”

  I have to look away as the scene of my mother’s violent death suddenly replays in my head. It’s still too fresh for me to shut it out, and I inadvertently let out an agonized groan.

  Titov’s expression suddenly changes to one of sympathy. “I’m gutted to hear about your mother’s death. She was a kind woman, and was a comfort to our family after Tatinanna died.”

  My heart hurts even more knowing she gave solace to Titov and his family, while I only rained curses down on him.

  “I grieve with you,” he says quietly as a tear runs down his cheek.

  I nod, swallowing hard and get up to see myself out.

  I start driving to my oldest brother’s place. I’m not looking forward to telling my brothers what’s happened but, like Titov, they need to know the truth.

  The truth of who our father really is…

  Vlad is shocked to see me standing there when he opens the door. I immediately notice that his eyes are red from crying. I’m relieved to know I won’t have to inform him about our mother’s death, on top of the terrible truth I must share.

  “I need to talk to all of you, now,” I tell him, after he invites me inside.

  “What’s wrong? What more bad luck could fall on this family?” he asks, looking unsettled.

  “I don’t want to say until all of us are gathered.”

  Vlad calls to his wife and tells her to bring a bottle of vodka. “I’ll make the calls.”

  I sit, downing two shots while I wait. When I see him again, I hand him the one I’ve poured for him.

  “So, I heard you were there,” he says, his voice gruff with emotion.

  I only nod, unable to speak of it.

  “I can’t imagine…”

  He tips the glass, downing the shot, and I pour us both another. We sit in silence until the others arrive.

  “Okay, what’s this all about?” Andrev demands once Pavel and Timur have arrived.

  I take a deep breath, retreating to simple facts when I describe how our mother died.

  “Who would do such a thing?” Pavel, the youngest and most sensitive of the five of us, cries. “Everyone loved our mother.”

  “I know,” I tell him.

  “Why are we just standing here? Let’s take the assassin out!” Vlad declares.

  “Before we do anything, there is something I must tell you.”

  I pour them each another shot. I look each one of them in the eye before I voice the ugly truth. “It was our father who sent the assassin to kill her.”

  Vlad stands up, points at me, snarling, “Liar!”

  “I understand how you feel, Vlad. I am as shocked as you are, but it doesn’t change the fact that our father had our beautiful mother killed…” My voice catches and I swallow down another shot to keep from crying.

  “I don’t believe it,” Vlad declares, glaring at me.

  Pavel agrees with him, insisting, “Father would never hurt Mama.”

  “What possible reason would he have to do such a thing? It was obviously a hit by the Koslovs or did you not know that?” Andrev asks with a distrustful sneer.

  When even Timur, the most reasonable of my brothers, doesn’t believe me, I look at them all in disgust.

  “It was for money!” I tell them. “Our sweet mother died because Vladimir is a greedy bastard.”

  “That makes no sense!” Vlad states. “Our father is a rich man.”

  “There are rumors floating around that Father has amassed a huge debt because of his gambling habit,” Timur offers, looking at me.

  At least he is willing to listen to reason, unlike my oldest brother.

  “I confronted him at the Koslov headquarters last night, Timur. I had every intention of killing Vladimir with my own two hands—”

  “It is a cold day in hell when a son attacks his own flesh and blood,” Andrev growls, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Did you know Grandfather passed our father over when he allotted the Durov inheritance, Andrev?” I shoot back. “Our father killed her in an attempt to get it back.”

  “What? Do the Koslovs have it now?” Pavel asks, looking at everyone in concern.

  “No, you idiot,” Vlad hisses, glaring at me. “Grandfather always had a favorite, didn’t he?” He glances down at the ring on my finger with resentment. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man gave it to you. He always treated you better than the rest of us.”

  “This isn’t about who the favorite is,” I snarl. “This is about the man who killed our mother.”

  Vlad shrugs, saying with disdain, “If what you say is true, why didn’t Father kill you? He loves our mother. He always has.”

  “What? Are you saying Anton has all the money?” Andrev shouts angrily.

  “I don’t have it…yet,” I tell him, before addressing Vlad. “Father can’t claim the inheritance by killing me.”

  Pavel presses his fingers against his temples and starts rocking back and forth. “None of this is making sense.” Tears roll down his cheeks and he whimpers, “Mama is dead…why are we fighting?”

  “Because our father was the one who killed her!” I roar. “Why don’t any of you care? The man needs to die.”

  Andrev stares at me suspiciously. “What if this is some crazy scheme of yours to steal the inheritance from Father?”

  “Why would I do that?” I snarl. “I don’t want the money.”

  “Because you hate Father. You always have!”

  “Do I hate the man who tied me to the pole and whipped me repeatedly as a bo
y? Of course, I fucking do. But I would never kill him unless he hurt the person closest to me—to all of us.”

  “Your accusations are unfounded,” Vlad states plainly. “There is no reason to believe what you say.”

  “Nikolay all but confirmed it today while I was at the Koslovs’ headquarters. It’s the only reason I’m still alive.”

  Timur looks at me with a thoughtful expression, but says nothing.

  “I refuse to believe Father did this,” Pavel exclaims.

  Andrev spits on the floor. “Everyone always favored you. Mama, Grandfather…even Father. And now you want to kill him?”

  “Are you insane, Andrev? I would have traded places with you in a second rather than be forced to endure Father’s sadistic brand of ‘affection’.”

  “In the end, our mother is gone. Nothing we do will bring her back,” Timur states in a calm voice. “I agree with Pavel. There is no reason for us to fight.”

  I shake my head in utter disbelief. “What is wrong with you? You all want Father to live after killing our sweet mother?”

  “As I said,” Vlad replies in a cold tone, “what you are proposing is pure speculation. How unjust would it be if we killed our father and you turned out to be wrong?” He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at me. “I think you have held on to your resentment for so long that you are now blinded by it.”

  “I am not seeking revenge for myself. This is for Mamulya. Do none of you care?” I scream, horrified by the passivity of my brothers.

  Pavel sniffles, wiping away his tears. “Of course, we care. We need to honor Mama as she would have wanted. We all need to grieve her loss as a family. Don’t try to ruin this for us or her, Anton.”

  “How could you stand beside Father, knowing he is the reason she died such a violent death?” I ask in disbelief.

  “In this case, it’s your word against his. I personally would believe Father over you any day,” Vlad answers coldly.

  Timur glances at me, looking torn. “Brother, we must unite as a family. I don’t want to hear any more discussion about Father murdering Mama. It’s not only cruel but grossly untrue.”

  “Timur, you can’t turn a blind eye to the truth. It’s not fair to Mamulya!”