Inked Athena (Litvinov Bratva Book 2)

My rage points me to her like a compass with its needle fixed on hell.

I storm into the barn, that fury burning through my veins. Nova sits on a hay bale by the doors, surrounded by puppies, her hair glowing in the afternoon light. The sight of her—pregnant, peaceful, perfect—threatens to douse my anger.

But the report in my pocket feels like it’s on fire, reminding me why I’m here.

This betrayal changes everything.

“Nova.”

She turns, and that fucking smile stays on her face despite the murder in mine. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you until this evening. Want to take the puppies for a walk around the loch with me?”

Yes. God yes. I want nothing more than to pretend everything’s fine, to walk with her and watch her laugh at the puppies’ antics. To feel our child move under my palm when I touch her belly. To forget for one moment that my entire world is a house of cards built on shifting sand.

But that’s not who I am. Not what I was raised to be.

I shake my head, keeping my voice glacier-cold. “No. Where’s Myles?”

Her smile falters. She rises slowly to her feet, ignoring the puppies yapping at her heels. “I don’t know. Is everything alright?”

“Not even close.”

“Sam…?” Her voice is soft, questioning. It takes everything I have to look away from the concern in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll find out later. After we talk to Myles.”

She doesn’t question me again as she follows me out of the barn. The puppies try to come with us, but she pushes them into the pen that Mr. Morris made for them and then rushes out after me. She’s out of breath as she tries to keep up.

But I don’t stop. Or slow down. I can’t. I take long strides like I might be able to outrun this. Like, if I move quickly enough, I won’t have to deal with it.

We round the corner of the castle, the turrets and gargoyles looming over us like silent judges. And there’s Myles, kneeling in the vegetable garden like he doesn’t have blood on his hands. Like he hasn’t betrayed everything we built together.

The smile on his face dies just like Nova’s did.

“What’s going on?”

“Follow me,” I command. “Both of you.”

They fall in behind me as I lead us through the castle’s winding corridors to the library. No one speaks, but I can feel them exchanging glances, communicating silently like they’ve been doing for weeks now. Planning. Plotting. Betraying.

The library doors slam behind us with a boom that echoes off the shelves. Dust motes dance in the sunbeams streaming through the high windows, shining almost like spotlights.

Exactly like spotlights, actually. Too fucking fitting.

I gesture for them to sit.

Nova does. Myles doesn’t.

That’s fine. It just means that, if I do decide to punch him in the end, he’ll have farther to fall.

I pull out the report that has been burning a hole in my pocket since a few minutes before I set out in search of them. The pages make a satisfying crack as they connect with Myles’s chest before fluttering to the floor at his feet.

He bends to retrieve them, and I watch his face as he reads. Watch the color drain from his cheeks as reality sinks in.

Nova shifts in her chair, anxiety rolling off her in waves. “What the hell is going on?” Her eyes dart between us like a trapped animal. “Samuil, why are you treating us like we’ve done something wrong?”

My eyes land on hers. “Haven’t you?”

“No, I haven’t.” Her chin lifts with that stubborn defiance I usually find endearing. Today it just feeds my rage. She turns to Myles, her expression softening. “Myles? What does it say? What’s the letter about?”

Myles’s hand drops, but he’s still gripping the papers tightly, his knuckles white. He answers Nova, but he’s looking at me.

“It’s not a letter,” he says hoarsely. “It’s a report.”

“A report on what?”

“A surveillance report.” His skin is turning a pale shade I’ve never seen before. “One that details new targets in Chicago.”

Nova’s forehead wrinkles with confused lines.

Any other day, I’d smooth them out myself. Kill whoever put them there.

But not today. Today, they just remind me how naive she still is about my world.

I give Myles a curt nod. “Go on, then. Tell her exactly what it means. Tell her what the two of you have done.”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “There have been eighty alerts for Hope Levy in the last twelve hours. And four intersections between one of Hope’s employees, Jeremiah ‘Jerry’ Cuthbert, and a known Andropov enforcer.” He takes a labored pause. “The report also shows several calls made to Chicago that originate from… this castle.”

I watch Nova carefully. I know her face as well as my own, and I see the exact instance she understands what it means.

I also see the exact instance when she decides she doesn’t care.

“You left me no choice, Sam.”

If I wasn’t rigid with anger, my jaw would drop. Instead, I watch as she shifts in front of Myles, like she’s trying to shield him from me.

“I was drowning in loneliness in this castle, Samuil. I needed someone to talk to, and Myles took pity on me. He let me speak to⁠—”

“‘Pity’?” I growl, causing her lips to snap shut. “Is that what you think Myles did? Do you think he offered you a gift?”

Myles steps out from behind Nova. “Brother⁠—”

“Explain to her what this means!” My roar echoes off the vaulted ceiling, sending centuries of dust scattering.

Myles’s jaw clenches as Nova turns to face him.

“I know what it means,” she insists, that stubborn light still burning in her eyes. “Because of what Hope and I did, it means that you can track down Katerina Alekseeva now. You’re welcome.”

I shake my head, but it’s Myles who speaks first. Every word drips with a shame he deserves.

“Nova… you don’t understand. Because I allowed you contact with Hope, it exposed you to the Andropovs. But it’s not just you. It also—” He drags his free hand along the nape of his neck, tugging on the hair hard enough to yank it out. “Hope and her employee are in danger now, too. The Andropovs will be tracking them. I put their lives at risk.”

All at once, the defiance drains out of her. Her shoulders droop, and her eyes go wide with new fear.

“Wait. Hold on. So you’re saying… Wh-what does this mean?”

This time, I don’t afford Myles the opportunity to speak. “It means that Jeremiah Cuthbert will have to leave Chicago or forfeit his life. He’ll have to change his name and live in hiding for as long as it takes the Andropovs to forget about his existence. And Hope…”

Nova flinches as though I’m throwing daggers, not words. I don’t stop. Because this shit never stops. Because it keeps coming, and I need her to realize that.

“Hope,” I continue, “will have to do the same. All your meddling and detective work has made your best friend a target. Not just to Katerina, but to one of the most dangerous Bratvas in the world.”

The last vestiges of color have completely vanished from Nova’s face. She looks like she might collapse, one hand pressed against her belly as if to shield our child from the harsh reality of my world.

“No…” she whispers. “I… I thought that if we just found her, then—” She breaks off, her eyes lifting towards me without ever quite meeting mine. “I didn’t think…”

“That’s right,” I snap. “You didn’t think.”

Then I turn to Myles. The weight of a decade of friendship hangs between us. Every mission, every close call, every victory we’ve shared—it all comes down to this moment.

I’m not sure if I’m grateful that he’s silent and expectant, waiting for me to land the final blow. Or if I’d rather him put up a fight.

He stands there silently, waiting for judgment. Part of me wishes he’d fight back. Make this easier by giving me a reason to hate him.

My voice comes out low and deadly. “Myles Hagerty.”

He risked the Bratva. Innocent civilians. And Nova…

He put Nova in danger.

That is a mistake I cannot overlook.

That is a mistake I cannot forgive.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out.”