Page 27 of The Pakhan’s Heir

I put the photo back. Whoever Alex was as a young man, that’s not who he is now. I’ve got to deal with the ruthless son of a Pakhan. And at the moment, I have to help my father take down his brotherhood.

I start looking through some of the other drawers. So far, nothing of any consequence…

Hmm. There’s a Post-It note here, stuck to the back of a blank envelope. It’s got one word on it. Garcia? Underneath the name is a date and time. A few weeks from now, around midnight. I search the drawer above this one and grab a pen and a scrap of paper, writing the information down. I don’t know who Garcia is, why there’s a question about him, or what significance the time and date are, but, honestly, it’s not really for me to know. It does, however, look important enough for Papa to interpret.

I hear the front door open and close. The sound of talking and footsteps. Oh, shit. I need to get out of here.

I close the drawer and rush to the door, only to hear the voices coming closer. I freeze, looking around the room desperately. If he catches me coming out of here…

I spot the armoire on the other side of the room and sprint over to it. I open the door and see that there are several suit jackets hanging inside. All of them smell thickly of Alex. It’s a strange place to keep his jackets, but I don’t have time to question it. I jump into the armoire and close it behind me. I’m instantly bathed in his scent as I push myself between the jackets until my back hits the wall.

A second later, I hear the door to the parlor open and Alex’s voice rings out. Another voice speaks to him. One of his men, no doubt. I hold my breath and pray he doesn’t notice anything out of place or pick up any sign that I’m here. Maybe their conversation will be short and they’ll leave soon.

I just really, really hope he doesn’t find me in here.

10

ALEX

Iknow something’s off the moment I walk through the door.

Nothing appears out of place right off the bat. As Kostya and I walk through the house, I peek into the rooms and I don’t immediately see anything that’s out of order. The living room still looks untouched, as does the kitchen. But still, I can’t shake the feeling that something is very off.

Kostya hasn’t noticed a thing, but that’s because he’s more focused on other things. He’s been trying to convince me to tighten security at the drug warehouses that I manage. This message, of course, comes from my father, but I know that Kostya is really the person behind this initiative. Other than my siblings and me, he’s the only other person in the brotherhood who has his ear and sometimes, when he sees something that needs changing that my father doesn’t, he’ll use that influence to push for a thing that needs to happen.

And I’m listening to him. I have been listening to him since we got in the car, but right now, my attention is a little divided.

“I don’t understand the resistance,” he says as we walk down the hallway to my parlor. “There’s no harm in adding a little security to the warehouses. It’s about being proactive.”

I sigh, looking out for any little thing that might be out of place. “How about the fact that my boeviks could be somewhere making me money?” I say to him. “Sixty percent of my income comes from their spending time in the clubs uptown with all the rich people and you’re asking me to pull them off that and onto babysitting my stash.”

“I just think it’s a wise precaution.”

“Uh-huh.” I stop walking and look at him, narrowing my eyes suspiciously. “What’s this really about, anyway? You heard something I should know about?”

He crosses his arms defensively. “No, of course not. If I’d heard something, I’d tell you that you need to do something because I heard something. This isn’t defense I’m talking about. It’s offense.”

“Hmph.” We walk to my parlor door and I open it. Immediately, I pick up her scent. Soft and powdery, strawberry sweet. I really should have known. I was stupid enough to leave her in this house alone. Damn. I was only gone for a couple of hours and she couldn’t wait to start snooping around. I suppose that’s my own fault. Three times last night clearly isn’t enough to keep a twenty-three-year-old girl down for the count. Maybe I should have put in a little more overtime on the sex.

“I just don’t get the obstinacy from you,” Kostya goes on.

I walk over to my writing desk. One of the drawers is slightly open. I press a hand on it to close it gently. “Kostya, this isn’t my father talking,” I say. “This is you. You’re trying to push for this because something about this arrangement has got you paranoid.”

“Para— I’m not being paranoid.”

I cross my arms as I lean against my desk. “I just married the daughter of my father’s rival—a woman I barely know, I might add. And I’ve done it for the good of all of us so that we can be united as one big, mega Bratva. Two nights ago, you were the main one reminding me of how important this marriage is to end the constant conflicts that we’ve had with the Irkutsks.”

“I know.”

“And now here you are in my house, the day after I get married, and you want me to suddenly believe that Slavik Sokolov is going to break the pact he made with my father in return for giving up his only daughter?”

“I never said it was Slavik,” Kostya says, and I scoff.

“You might as well have.”

“Sokolov is not your father’s only enemy, Alex,” he says. “And now that it’s out that the two largest Bratvas have united, we are going to be tested. And as far as this being my idea, all I’ve done is urge your father to be ready. That’s all. He feels the same as I do about taking precautions.”

I don’t say anything to that. I stand and walk over to the liquor cabinet, still looking around the room for anything out of place. Her strawberry scent is still pretty strong in here. Wonder if she’s hiding from me.