Page 8 of Fractured Empire

Vaughn responds by blinking up at her dreamily and blowing a raspberry.

Dad chuckles quietly and I can’t fight the smile that comes over me. Babies tend to have that effect on people—breaking through the bleakest of days with their effortless sunshine. Try being mopey when there’s a precious little creature giggling near you, it’s not easy.

“I just put the blueberry in the oven for the boys, and I’m almost done with your chocolate ones,” Rayna informs me happily. “There’s more coffee if you want it.”

“Yeah, all right.”

Apollo passes me a mug and I fill it up with dark roast, inhaling the steam.

“Boys still asleep?” Dad asks as I sit at the counter next to him.

I nod and grunt. “I just checked on them, they’re still knocked out but they’ll miraculously be awake and full of energy in an hour, I bet.”

“It doesn’t take much to energize kids at that age,” he points out with a small chuckle. “You boys used to run around the house for hours. Only Cesar could keep up with you, I was already getting too old.”

Apollo scoffs, shaking his head. “You say that as if you’re not still giving us a run for our money at this age.”

Dad tries and fails to hide a smug grin. “And if you’re lucky, you’ll inherit my ability to age so well. Try having as many children as possible, they tend to keep you young.”

“Or give you grays,” Apollo counters with a huff.

“That too,” Dad agrees, chuckling. “I’ve been told gray looks good on me.”

“That’s because you barely have any,” I inform him dryly. “You have salt and pepper going on at most.”

“Women love that,” Rayna quips, wiggling her brows playfully.

“Behave,” Apollo warns, narrowing his eyes.

She snorts at him. “He could be your older twin, you drama queen. You look exactly alike, and you know you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only P-R-I-C-K that I need in my life, love.” Rayna spells out the insult as she’s become accustomed to doing since giving birth. Not that Vaughn is old enough to understand her or mimic her yet, but with as much as she curses, it’s probably smart to get into the habit of censoring herself.

Turning around without another word, she opens the oven and quickly pops the chocolate muffin tray inside while staying to the side so that the baby doesn’t get a face full of hot air. She probably didn’t get a full night’s sleep either since she had to come here in the middle of the night, but with a newborn, she’s used to being woken up. At least where she lives, there’s plenty of help. I’ve gotten used to being farther away from my family, but I imagine that having extra hands here is going to be vital.

“Jade and Dmitri are back from California, aren’t they?” I ask suddenly, wondering how my little sister would take my father up and leaving while she slept.

She and her husband went to visit his family on the West Coast after the birth of her newest baby, Viktor. In a couple of years, they’ll move there permanently so Dmitri can take his place as the future Pakhan. The fact that they’ve been able to live with our family for so long is highly unusual but something that all of us appreciate after missing out on seventeen years of her life.

“They’ve been home for a couple days,” Dad confirms. “Dmitri was awake when you called, so he told her when she woke up this morning. I called Matteo, though.”

Matteo, my youngest brother, who fell in love and then joined the fucking Bratva. He met Dmitri’s little sister Anya at Jade’s wedding, and struck up a virtual friendship with the girl shortly after. I think a lot of us expected him to fall for the pretty Russian ballerina, but I doubt any of us saw him changing his entire life for her.

Instead of asking her to marry him and become a Moretti, he worked his way into becoming a Morozov with her. Another family might disown him and label him a traitor, they might even try to kill him without taking any excuse as valid enough for his actions. But not us. Morettis are for life, and even though he’s Bratva now, he’s still my little brother. The Morozovs have become a close ally since Jade’s marriage and the birth of her children, and now that connection will only be solidified further.

“He’s not coming home, is he?” I ask, worried that he would feel the need to drop everything and fly out here. There’s nothing for him to do here, and disturbing his life now that he’s found his happiness would only make me feel worse.

“He’ll come for the funeral,” Dad replies with a grunt. “Or if you ask him to⁠—”

“I won’t,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “He should stay where he’s needed.”

It’s not that I don’t love my little brother or his company, quite the contrary actually. He’s a good time, and he always knows how to cheer people up. He’s kind and compassionate, and I never regret spending time with him. But I have all the support I need, any more and it would start to get crowded around here.

Clearing his throat, Dad gets my attention again. “Melani is pretty upset. Emilio had to step in and prevent her from coming here. Obviously, she’s going to want to talk to you eventually. But the kids come first, and she needs to cool down before she comes here.”

“Cool down?” I ask with a frown. “She’s mad?”

Dad hesitates. “She isn’t fully convinced that you didn’t know she was sick.”

My eyebrows draw in, fast and hard. “What the fuck?”