1

The estate, located behind the forest belt at the other end of the city, had long been abandoned. The mayor's office repeatedly arranged an auction in order to shake it off the balance of the city, but a buyer, despite the relatively low cost, was never found because of its notoriety, which appeared thanks to some old children's horror story that all residents disappeared without a trace in that estate .

Who would have thought that wolves were so superstitious!

Grisha and Sery looked at satellite pictures of the estate for a long time, trying to figure out routes or something like that, but judging by their exchange of glances, the place for the meeting was chosen as much as possible in favor of Ibragimov.

I only glanced at them, but immediately realized that even in the dark it was impossible to drive up to the estate unnoticed, and it would be very difficult to get out in case of an ambush.

Rubbing my sweaty palms, I watched the motorcyclists checking their weapons. They dug out, probably, half of the storage and, hung with machine guns, stuffed clips and grenades into their pockets.

I had no doubt that Grisha had his own contacts for acquiring weapons, but it’s still good that I had them. Although not entirely with me and generally thanks to Alyosha, but that’s not the point.

Thoughts in my head wandered around. Grisha never answered me about Ibragimov and his usefulness, but once again emphasized that the right to go or refuse to meet was mine.

So it is true, but his words that sometimes a meeting with an ally was a war did not go out of my head along with the news about the mayor.

Once I saw him live, and he turned out to be even more vile than in the photos on the Internet. Grisha said that he loved child porn, and this was also not in favor of the mayor.

When Boris was alive, he literally licked his feet, and I basically assumed that the mayor could be aware that there were weapons at the plant. And it was hardly a coincidence that Ibragimov gave the pearl of the city, that is, the casino, to him, not to mention the fact that I, like Grisha, assumed that Kokhan was hiding in it.

So they were together? The mayor used the proceeds from the casino to pay for the mercenaries? What for?

Only one thing came to mind: he needed mercenaries to eliminate Ibragimov and everyone who was with him. After all, the mayor probably knew how everything was in reality with Boris's inheritance, and Kokhan, on his own initiative or on the initiative of the mayor, did not cope with the murder of Ibragimov.

I remembered Rosa's words about Kohan: that he would get the city and everything that came with it; that for him to kill me and my child is a kind of initiation, the last trophy, confirming his complete power in the city, and that he will not stop.

For this, I should have said a separate "thank you" to Ibragimov, but still, even now, some points were still not clear to me.

The same Ibragimov ... Well, he gave away part of Boris's fortune to all sorts of, as Grisha put it, loud-mouthed n * gifts. What's next? Sooner or later there will be nothing to give away, and without this kind of insurance, the old wolf is unlikely to be able to do anything, otherwise he would have already done it. So what's the point?

All those tales of his about Grisha as the new master of the city... Did he himself believe in them? Grisha did not believe along the way, but something prompted him to take Ibragimov into account. What?

Once Grisha told me that his job was to see what his employer did not see. So maybe he saw something now that I didn't see? After all, he knew Ibragimov Sr. personally, unlike me.

And although Grisha made it clear that he did not want me to go to a meeting with a lawyer, he did not interfere with this. So, there was some meaning, I just didn’t see it or didn’t want to see it, being too fixated on ... On something, obviously, not very significant, since I was still stupid, feeling sorry for myself from time to time.

I sighed almost longingly for the times when my only problems were memory loss and Boris, and reproached myself again for returning to the city.

Maybe it would not be the best life on the run, but then I would be with my baby, I could protect him, otherwise I didn’t even know where he was, how he was and didn’t know if I would even come back today to the residence.

Maybe I should have written a letter for Nikita? Leave it to Rosa to... My heart sank, and I cut off my thought.

Well, what could I write? Crowded phrases that would make me sleepy, and that would not reflect even a hundredth of what I felt?

Grisha caught my mood and came up to me. The cosmos in his eyes shone soothingly, but I had a feeling that he had not told me everything, like Rosa.

It just now occurred to me that she suspiciously knew for sure that Ibragimov copied everything to me. How could she know this? Did she communicate with him? So be it, but why would an old wolf report to some cook?

And I was also visited by doubts about Alyosha and his tips. He communicated with Grisha in secret from me, he knew about the storage with weapons, he knew about Kokhan ... What else did he know? Why did he get along with Grisha so easily and take Nikita away while I was sleeping? Why did the same Grisha at first almost insist on a meeting with Ibragimov, and then gave it back, saying that the decision is yours, and suddenly began to work hard, make inquiries, and so on? What influenced him so much? Not our stupid revelations with him?!

- Nothing you want to tell me?

Contrary to my expectation that he would laugh it off, Grisha remained serious, but was in no hurry to answer. At least in my specific question.

- You will go with Chechik in an SUV. He nodded at a motorcyclist. “And take a pistol with you, after all,” he added, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I did not at all believe that Grisha could be attracted to complaisant women, but at the moment he expected submission, which was not part of my plans, and not at all because I wanted to do it to spite him.

Without answering Grisha, I went upstairs and went into the office. I remember when Boris took me from the hospital and I was just exploring the house, I came across one single photograph, which still stood on an oblong dressing table behind a massive table in the office.

I don’t know what or who I wanted to see on it, but the black and white photograph beckoned me. Especially the father.

Sometimes it occurred to me that my mother might have been lying about the love she had with him. If that was the case, why didn't he make sure she and his kids had some kind of insurance in case of emergency? He was killed when I was five and my brother was three, so he must have known us.

In general, it is strange that I did not remember him, although perhaps this was precisely the answer: there was nothing to remember, because Valery Stanislavsky hid us not only from his surroundings, but also from himself. Maybe even somewhere else there were his children and women, to whom he promised everything the same bullshit as my mother. Everything could be.

"He knew how to love tenderly ..." - the mother's words resounded in her head.

I put the photo back on the dressing table and looked out the window, under which the motorcyclists were gathering, led by Grisha.

Yes ... Maybe someone knew how to love tenderly, but that was always not enough.

I went downstairs and, catching a meaningful look from Rosa, went to the garage.

Are you leaving anyone here? I asked Grisha, who had overtaken me.

“Katya stays and a few other guys,” he answered quickly.

Two off-road vehicles were prepared for the trip: one for me, the second for averting eyes. Having overtaken me, Grisha went to the first of them and opened the door for me, but I passed by.

Boris had an extensive fleet of vehicles. It included not only the ugly SUVs that he preferred in everyday life, but also a number of sports cars, one of which I really liked: the dark blue beauty of the Porsche Carrera, which could accelerate to 100 km / h in some 3- 4 seconds.

Don't ask me how I knew this. I had a life before all this shit, even though it was also a foul one.

- Kira Valerievna! - Grisha slammed the door of the SUV and in the blink of an eye he was in front of me, slamming also the door of the Porsche, which I opened. - I thought we understood each other.

- I will not go on an SUV, - I stated categorically.

- Why?

- Because I do not want. - I re-opened the car door, but Grisha slammed it again.

"I'm not going in an SUV," I repeated, holding his hard gaze.

- All right, - Grisha reasonably backed down and examined the car appraisingly. - Let's ride it.

"Thank you," I smiled.

Grisha opened the door for me, and I quickly darted into the salon and blocked the doors. If I wanted to ride in a company, I would agree to an SUV.

- Kira! - growled Grisha, pulling the door on the passenger side. - Open the door or I'll break it down!

"I'll take the ring road," I said calmly, ignoring the threat.

He and Gray considered the route both through the district and through the city. I didn’t know what they agreed on, but it seemed to me the best option to go along the district.

First, it was much faster. Secondly, on its flat road and a sports car, and even more so for motorcycles, it was easier to accelerate and maneuver in case of emergency. And along the district there were no high-rise buildings with tenants who were always dissatisfied with all sorts of noise, who could call the cops, who definitely didn’t need me.

I started the car and turned too sharply out of the garage, almost hitting a parked motorcycle with a black helmet hanging on the handlebars with two wolf heads crossed in a kiss.

On the gravel, the car shook and crawled unpleasantly, but after driving out the gate, I succumbed to speed. Having raised the dust, Grisha overtook me. The rest of the motorcycles, with two riders each, lined up behind.

Angelov's residence was located outside the city and it was a stone's throw from it to the ring road, so after passing the railway crossing, we quickly drove onto a flat half-lit road.

Grisha went ahead, and I just followed him, thinking about the upcoming meeting. I felt stupid in this new role, I don’t even know who. It was even a little funny to me, with what a serious look I was driving, surrounded by armed mercenaries, to a meeting with a criminal lawyer. And most importantly: why?

A lover of children's dolls already gave me a hint where he could be found, so why did I go anyway? Why did you waste time and take risks, because anything could happen on the road?

Mentally, I placed pieces on the chessboard: me, Grisha, Kokhan, Ibragimov, the mayor. Who else? Alyosha? Rose?

For some reason it occurred to me that the war in the city was unavoidable, but would it be outside the city?

Under Boris, the mayor was a servant, after his death he felt freedom, and having received a casino, he tasted power and real money, and wanted more, but he was only a man, and a man would never be allowed to stand above the wolves. To do this, he might need Boris's brother, who was so conveniently also a half-breed, under the guise of instability, quite capable of inciting other half-breeds, oppressed by wolves, to fight for rights and make the city his own.

Kokhan could easily play along, while pursuing his own goals, the first in line of which was, according to the idea, the inheritance, which, thanks to the efforts of the lawyer, waved his paw at him, that is, passed to me, although not completely because of the same lawyer that did me aiming for Kohan.

However, something here still did not fit. I put myself in Kohan's shoes and figured out what I would do, but the more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that Kohan's actions were not rational.

First, he tried to kill Ibragimov, which was not very smart, because without a lawyer he could not get what he wanted.

Okay, let Kohan break loose, but what did he do next? Or rather, what didn't you do?

He could kidnap Mikhail and, threatening Ibragimov, force him to transfer the entire business and all of Boris's assets to him. So why didn't he do that and lay low, focusing on the factory and the weapons that were there that were just nothing compared to the legacy?

Ibragimov knew that I was alive and pregnant, and somehow Kokhan found out about this, but they both waited for me to give birth, and only then one of them sent a wolf to my house with bad intentions.

Now I was in the city: Ibragimov got in touch only when I pulled him, or rather pulled his son; the mayor played the role of a respectable person, praising the launch of the plant and the opening of new jobs; Kohan, on the other hand, just hid, sent me terrible gifts and flowers, but at the same time literally invited me to the casino.

It turned out to be a strange scheme, and my role in it seemed to me less and less significant.

Even if Kohan was sick in the head and wanted to get an inheritance and a city by tearing me and my child to pieces in order to really consolidate his authority in this way, then what was he waiting for? Why did he need that mayor, if he already squeezed out the casino that Ibragimov gave to the mayor? And how did Kohan know about me and my son?

Let him somehow find out about Grisha and follow him, but why didn’t he do anything then, but waited so long?

Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense and once again some kind of nonsense turned out, completely devoid of at least some kind of logic and purposefulness.

When Grisha came to me, he said that they were looking for me because of Boris’s business, and then I thought that it was stupid and everything could be obtained without me, but the indisputable fact was that someone was getting close to me that night, It means someone needs me. And to this someone, along with that freak who sent me a doll and planted a card, threatening my child and his father, I was ready to tear off the head with my bare hands, regardless of the reasons why they did what they did.

Grisha, meanwhile, drove off the road towards the village, in which there was an abandoned estate, surrounded by dilapidated walls and a wildly overgrown park, which once seduced the eye with beauty and grooming.

Its territory covered about 40 hectares, and at least the palace itself was built of white stone in the neo-Gothic style, and even in the dark its shabby appearance evoked mixed impressions, bordering on delight at its beauty and grandeur, and fear of what could be hidden in his empty rooms.

However, not only they concealed the invisible, and as we drove up to the main entrance, I everywhere noticed lights glowing in the thickets.

Judging by the smells that seeped into the cabin through the hatch, the guards at the estate were not weak, and as the house approached, the luminous lights came out of their hiding places, closing our column.

I waited for Grisha to put the motorcycle on the running board and open the door for me, and only then did I get out of the car. Yes... The smells of the wolves surrounding us were very powerful. Where are we, half-breeds!

All were young, purebred, strong, and hardly hired. So the old guard did not hesitate to involve their children in dark deeds.

Grisha, in the best traditions of his gang, which Alyosha called a gang of thugs, did not take off his helmet, but only unbuttoned his jacket to make it easier to get pistols.

One of the larger wolves, whose scent was familiar to me, nodded his head at me and went into the house. We followed.

Three of the twelve motorcyclists remained outside, three more remained in the lobby. The rest went with us and the wolves.

The inside of the house was dusty and dark. Heels thudded loudly, interrupting the scratching sound of Mikhail's claws as he escorted us all the way to the back of the house.

At the massive door, from under which a thin strip of light appeared and the smell of coffee was drawn, the wolf stopped and, standing up by its hind legs, turned into a man.

Opening the door, he looked back at me, and in the light I noticed that something had changed in him, as if he was no longer imitating anything. Mikhail caught my eye and, flashing his eyes illuminated after the transformation, looked at Grisha.

- Leave the weapon here. We have a peaceful meeting.

Grisha tilted his head to one side, as if mockingly, but his scent betrayed a much more aggressive response. I tensed, fearing that they would clash, but luckily, laughter came from the room.

- Well, that's enough! Enough! a male voice said cheerfully. - Show off in front of Kira another time! Let me see her!

Guided by the fact that the voice seemed familiar to me, I walked around Mikhail and Grisha and entered the room.

- Oh, baby! How you have grown since our last meeting!