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Drake shakes his head.
“Tell me.”
“He said it doesn’t matter if I’m the heir. He said …”
Drake lets out a sob and then tries to push it away, but he can’t. Soon, he’s fully crying, tearing a hole of guilt right through my middle. There’s nothing I can do except murmur words, which are supposed to be comforting. Finally, he gets himself under control, making heart-wrenching shuddering noises.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“You don’t have to be,” I tell him, my voice cracking.
“What’s happening at this party? Why is it such a big deal?”
My new boyfriend is going to kill our dad.
“I’m not sure exactly,” I tell him, “but we’ll be together soon, Drake. Soon, you’ll never have to see Dad again.”
I observe him, wishing my phone screen was bigger, and the picture was higher quality so I could get every detail of my baby brother. “Good,” Drake says after a pause.
“You’d be okay with that?”
“Dad’s not a good person, is he?” Drake says, a note of unsure hope entering his voice toward the end as though he wishes to change this fact.
“No, he’s not.”
“I wish it were just us,” Drake says. “You and me and … and somebody to keep us safe until I’m big enough.”
“Thenyou’llkeep us safe, huh, champ?”
He frowns seriously as though my lighthearted tone is an insult. “I will,” he says seriously. “I gotta go. Dad’s saying we’re going to have a big dinner tonight. He wants me to wear a suit. I have to sit there and be theprince. If I were really the boss, everything would be better! Love you, sis.”
“I love you too?—”
He ends the call. Right at the end, I think he’s about to burst into tears again. I try to call him back, but he rejects it and sends me a message.I’m good. Speak soon.
Sighing, I decide to take a quick shower. Afterward, I head to the computer room. Mikhail is sitting at his terminal, typing quickly with my headphones in. I walk over quietly, loving how intensely focused he looks and how his fingers speed across the keys. Then I notice the small bandage on his arm.
Reaching down gently, I touch his arm.
Suddenly, he’s on his feet. He spins to me with fury in his eyes, looking ready to kill whoever’s disturbed him. When he sees it’s me, the anger drains away. “Sorry,” he says quickly, touching my hand as his headphones clatter to the floor.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I was just wondering what happened to your arm?”
Mikhail sighs. “Dimitri asked me to make a blood promise before he told me something.”
“Promising what?” I ask.
“Not to repeat what he told me.”
I nod. “Okay. I understand. Dad’s men often made promises in the old way. You can’t say anything unless you want to be shamed in the Bratva for the rest of your life.”
He grinds his teeth from side to side. I wonder if he even knows he’s doing it. “That’s true, but it doesn’t make it any easier. You deserve to know everything.”
“Wait, this involves me?”
Mikhail bites down, clenching his fists. Every inch of him looks like he wants to tell me the truth. I can feel it burning from him, this desire to share everything with me.
“You can’t say,” I murmur a moment later.
