Page 9 of The Pakhan’s Heir

At least until he sees me in the dress.

4

ALEX

So, tonight, I meet with Nona Sokolov.

My father says that she’s pretty. Personally, I’d like to at least have a photo of her to judge for myself. Not that looks are necessarily everything. Being hung up over a woman’s looks is a younger man’s game, in my opinion. I’m more interested in what else comes with that beauty.

I suppose that’s the whole point of this dinner. We sit down, drink a little wine, get to know one another. And then in a few weeks, we will get married.

It’s all so asinine, but I can’t disobey my father. So, here I am, looking over myself one last time before I venture out into the world.

The mirror before me reflects a handsome man. Tall, dark hair with silver streaks decorating the front, a low cut but well-maintained beard… and my mother’s pale blue eyes.

The suit I’m wearing is one of the more expensive ones that I own, tailored to fit with embroidered silk lapels and deep creases in the slacks. I adjust my gold cufflinks as I debate whether or not to wear any other jewelry. A gold chain against the white of my shirt… maybe one of my signet rings…

“Look at this pretty motherfucker,” I hear behind me.

“Now you see what I have to deal with.”

I start slightly and look toward the door of my bedroom. Kostya and my brother are standing in the doorway of my bedroom, smirks on their faces and arms crossed. Kostya is my father’s sovietnik, but also my best friend since childhood, and of course, he’s here to see me off. I’m a little glad for it, so I laugh and they both laugh with me. Kostya’s permanently serious expression melts with the coming of laugh lines around the corners of his mouth.

“Who let you idiots in?” I ask. “Thought I told the staff to keep out the riffraff.”

“You know we couldn’t stay away,” Rikki says as they walk all the way into the room. “When Kostya told me that you were meeting your fiancée tonight, well, I just had to see it for myself.”

“And here you are, dressed all nice and pretty for your date,” he says with another laugh. He nudges my shoulder and I bat him away playfully.

“You know,” I say, “Rikki and I have only known about this date for about twenty-four hours. How did you find out?”

“I’m not your father’s favorite spy for nothing,” Kostya says. “And even if I weren’t, I’m pretty sure Yeva’s been talking about this whole disaster to anybody who will listen.”

I shake my head. Of course, it would be Yeva to spread the news around. “One day, my sister’s mouth is going to write a check her ass can’t cash.”

Kostya leans against my dresser, tilting his head as he checks out my suit while Rikki stands by my side, still looking me up and down. He points to my cufflinks, flicking them. I slap his hand away.

“Your sister being a gossip seems out of character,” Kostya says.

Rikki scoffs. “It would be if that’s just what she was. She’s addicted to drama.”

“It’s true,” I say as I adjust my collar. “Little sister likes being in the middle of the trauma and the drama. It’s her thing.”

“True enough,” he says. Rikki tries to grab at my cufflinks again and I yank my hand away. “Those are mine.”

“They are not,” I say. “These are the ones that Father got me for my birthday.”

He narrows his eyes and looks at them skeptically, but he doesn’t argue. I finish adjusting my outfit and turn, holding my hands out to display the fit.

“Nice?”

“It’ll do,” Kostya says.

“Needs more jewelry,” Rikki says.

“Yeah, okay.” Guess I look fine the way I am. I turn back to the mirror and check my hair again. It’s gelled and in place. The silver’s shining in the light above me.

“So, who’s gonna be your best man?” Rikki asks.