Page 5 of The Pakhan’s Heir

“Hey,” Dad says, “No food fights. The last time, it took the maids⁠—”

“Three days to clean it out of the carpet,” we all say in unison. Dad just shakes his head.

“Then you already know better. Knock it off.”

“Anyway,” Yeva goes on, “the bottom line is that everyone got home safely thanks to me. The only sober driver.”

I snort a laugh. Rikki looks over at me and says, “You should probably move over a couple of seats so you don’t get struck by lightning.”

“That’s enough,” Dad says lightheartedly. He gets up and walks over to Yeva, kissing her on top of her head. “If my little angel says she remained clean and sober during a wild party on campus, I believe her. After all, it’s a school where kings and queens are educated. I doubt the party was all that wild, anyway.”

Yeva sticks her tongue out at Rikki. Rikki scratches his nose with his middle finger.

“In any event,” Dad goes on, patting her on the shoulder, “we should call it a night. Your brothers and I have things to discuss before they bed down tonight, so if you don’t mind, my darling…”

“I don’t mind,” she says. She stands and gives our father a kiss on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

She leaves and Dad says, “She reminds me more and more of her mother every day.”

Rikki and I exchange a glance that collectively says, Let’s hope that’s not true.

Dad clears his throat and takes his place back at the head of the table. “So,” he says, “I’m sure you two are aware by now that I’ve had a sit down with Slavik Sokolov.”

And here we go. “That was a few nights ago,” I say. “Judging from the attempt on my life today, I take it peace is off the table.”

“Surprisingly, no. It’s not,” he says, and I tilt my head. “We’re still negotiating but… Slavik has made me a proposition that I have been seriously considering the past few days.”

“Oh?”

“How much?” Rikki asks.

Dad sighs. “Not every deal has monetary value, Son.”

“It does when it comes to him. He’s probably looking to be compensated for the warehouse we took a month back.”

“Yes,” Dad says, his face suddenly looking mournful and drawn. “The warehouse fire where I almost lost my eldest son.”

I’m stunned into silence. We haven’t talked about the details of what happened that night. At least not past Kostya reporting the events to him. Up until this moment, I thought it was forgotten or at least pushed aside.

When we set the warehouse ablaze, I got caught behind a stuck door. The damned thing wouldn’t come open for shit. Rikki had to break it down to get me out. It was a scary moment, but honestly, nothing we couldn’t handle.

“Kostya was very descriptive about that night,” Dad says, and both Rikki and I adjust uncomfortably in our chairs. “I’m Pakhan of this outfit. You think my spies don’t tell me everything?”

“It wasn’t a big deal, Dad. Rikki got me out to safety in time.”

“What if he didn’t?” He turns in his chair fully to me. His eyes have gone nearly black as they drill into me. “I’ve named you my successor. Trained you up to be just that.”

I sigh and glance over at my brother, who’s clenching his jaw. “You have two sons. Rikki is just as capable⁠—”

“Rikki’s purpose is to enforce the rule of law, not make them,” he says. “I gave that honor to you and you alone.”

This is going somewhere. Wish I knew where. “The fact remains that I’m alive with barely a scratch on me. This is a dangerous job, Dad. Sometimes, things happen.”

He nods. “Be that as it may, you’re forty-two now, Son. By now I would have expected to have several grandchildren out of you. Looking at how that whole thing went down at the warehouse, it’s got me thinking how close I am to losing my bloodline.”

Again, I glance at Rikki. I could point out once more that he has two sons, but it’s pointless given Rikki’s forty-year-old single man status as well.

“That said,” Dad goes on, “Your mishap has given me a reason to consider Slavik’s offer to me.”