Page 30 of Black Ledger

I would make everyone believe the opposite and prove to my father that she meant absolutely nothing to me.

Prove that I didn’t even notice her.

Unfortunately, my gaze had other ideas. It traced her body as if I were a scientist at a crime scene, studying every curve and angle.

Heat spread beneath my collarbone, and I promised myself that I would stop looking… in just one second.

Well, fuck. I sucked at this.

I hadn’t even known I needed to prepare to see her tonight. Xeniya never came to Bratva gatherings like this. Dimitri Morozov tended to keep his children away from Bratva affairs—especially after his eldest daughter had been forced to train with the boys. It was his way of reclaiming power and protecting his children as much as he could.

Dimitri Morozov was ten times the father mine would ever be.

The only reason my father protected me was that I was his heir, and unfortunately, his bastard son—his favorite—was not allowed to take over.

“Who are you staring at?” my uncle Viktor asked in Russian. “The Morozov girl? That’s dangerous, nephew.”

“I am not staring at her,” I muttered in Russian. “I just noticed she was there, and my eyes fell on her for a moment. That’s it.”

“Sure, sure.” Viktor smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

I unhooked my gaze from Xeniya and met my uncle’s knowing stare. I swallowed hard and tried to change the subject. “So when are you going to get married, Uncle?”

“You want me to have heirs that badly, huh?” he asked.

“No…” I stretched the word out like taffy. But it wasn’t true. If my uncle had a son, it would make my life so much easier. Then maybe I could escape being the heir.

It was always dangerous to be the man on top—or that man’s family. Viktor was my only uncle and close to my father, but unlike my father, he wasn’t cruel. He didn’t treat others with disdain. In the Bratva, everyone feared both Volkov brothers, but most people liked Viktor.

The same could not be said of my father.

Viktor leaned against a cocktail table and slid a hand in his pocket. “I’ll marry when I find the right woman to marry.”

“What are you two talking about, looking like that?” Mikhail, my half-brother, asked dryly. “You both look like cats that got the cream.”

“I was just asking Uncle when he was going to get married,” I said before Viktor could answer. I did not need him telling Mikhail I had been staring at Xeniya.

But just as I thought her name, my eyes glanced over in her direction, and fury burned in my blood. She was dancing with Kazimir Kaloshin. Of all the fucking people she could have chosen for her first dance, it was Kaz.

Kazimir fucking Kaloshin.

My number one rival.

I fucking hated that boy. All swagger and sharp smiles, acting as if the world already belonged to him—including her.

I threw back the rest of my whiskey and started toward them before I could think better of it. Mikhail intercepted me before I made it three steps, and Viktor closed in beside him.

“That is the worst idea you’ve had all night,” Mikhail warned. “You have to let that girl go.”

Mikhail knew all about my obsession. He was five years older than me, but we were still close, forged together in the fire of my father’s violence. Mikhail, like any good older brother, always tried to have my back and keep me safe. And he knew my obsession with Morozova did not keep anyone safe.

Least of all her.

“If you want to intervene, I understand,” Mikhail continued. “But you cannot do it.”

I locked my jaw so tightly that pain shot through my teeth, then I glowered at my uncle and brother. But they were right. I couldn’t just walk over to Kaz and punch him in the face for dancing with Xeniya. That would be a terrible idea.

“Do you want me to step in?” my brother asked.