Ilia tilts his head, looking at me closely. “To Simon Fraser University? No. But… Roman and I have found what is possibly the most secure spot on the planet for you.”
My gaze moves to Lev, who is nodding, even though it looks acutely painful to do so. “Where?”
My brother smiles triumphantly. “The Ares Academy.”
Chapter Two
“You’re kidding me.”
Ilia shakes his head. “I know the stories Roman and I have shared can make the Academy sound a little scary-”
“Scary? You almost died there.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Why would you even joke about sending me there? Not to mention that they would never accept me. I’m twenty. It’s what, a month into the school year and once the students get dumped on that island, they can’t get off until June!”
Patiently waiting until the anxious flow of word vomit is over, he leans over to the bar to get me a bottle of water. “Drink this. Take a moment.”
Glaring at him over the bottle as I drink, I try to regain some self-control. I know Ilia is being patient. While everything in my life just crumbled around me, tears and hysteria have never been welcome in the Aslanov Bratva. Taking a deep breath, I try to focus. “Okay. I’m sorry. I can listen.”
“You’re correct,” he allows, “about most of this. You should be with us. You should be protected by us.” His lips pressed tightly together and I can feel his grief and guilt. “We have threats coming in from every direction. Whoever it is has a literal army. And now we know you are a target. Roman and I have gone through every possible scenario to keep you safe, and this is the best option.”
“I still don’t see how you’re going to just… magically poof me into the most secretive and brutal college on the planet,” I protest.
“The Ares Academy is notoriously difficult to get into,” he agrees. “I know our parents never discussed this with you, but there was interest in you when you turned eighteen. Do you remember Vladimir Adamovich?”
Frowning, I vaguely remember a big, white-haired man with a mustache that made him look like a walrus.
“He came to dinner at the house several times,” I said thoughtfully, “and I remember him at some of the bigger celebrations.”
“He was an old friend of Father’s,” Ilia agrees, “but he’s surprisingly progressive. He is the president of the Board of Regents for the college. He’d suggested at the time that you would be a good candidate.”
“Really?” I’m shocked. “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him.”
“Father, of course, immediately dismissed the idea,” he said wryly, “which I thought was a shame. Roman and I believed you could have flourished there.”
“You’re kidding.” I said bluntly, “I’m majoring in Literature.”
He shrugged, smiling a little devilishly. “Ah, but you’re still an Aslanov. In any case, since the Ares Academy’s origins over two hundred years ago, the first, unbreakable law is that it is neutral. There is a permanent détente between all factions. No murders, no attacks against another student.”
“What happens if someone just… snaps?” I ask.
“They’re put to death,” his expression is solemn. “It’s ugly. Very ugly. But it’s only happened three times in nearly two centuries, so those odds are good. Not to mention that all families who send a student there are required to defend the school against any attack. That has never happened. Do you see why this is the safest option for you?”
“I understand your reasoning,” I agree, “but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s no way they’re going to admit me. Particularly since the school year has already started.”
“It’s already done.” Ilia leaned back, unbuttoning his suit jacket, and finally taking a sip of the drink the flight attendant had made for him. “Adamovich messaged me an hour ago. Lev will take you to Inis Mór and see you safely to the Academy.”
“I’ll stay in Kilronan Village on the island,” Lev adds, “it’s close to the Academy in case you need me, and I can keep an eye out for anyone coming to the island that shouldn’t be there.”
I’m grateful for that, but it feels selfish. “If I’m safe in this impenetrable fortress of gangsters, maybe you should be helping my brothers?”
Ilia and Lev exchange a glance, and my brother smiles at me. “What’s the Aslanov family motto?”
“
His brow raises, “Uh, a good way to make sure your enemy stays down, but no.”
“Don’t go stingy with the bullets?”
