Caught in the Blizzard with a Bratva Boss

I'm three months from a fellowship and I've never met the family business. Then a man in a good coat is standing in my ambulance bay holding my brother's name. His name is Kirill Zhurov. He was sent to collect me. He was also told what to do if I said no. I said no. He followed me home anyway. Then the blizzard shut the county, my building burned, and the only building left standing between us was a dead rail depot with one working door and no phone. Four days. He had a bullet in him and I had a suture kit from a vet's office. I treated him. He talked. Now I'm holding a ledger my family spent twenty years keeping out of sight, and there's a name in it I've seen before — on a hospital ethics complaint. Hand it over and walk away. Or use it. I've been a doctor long enough to know which one of us is going to survive this.