Page 7

I walk toward the window, pushing the curtains aside to take in the view of the Hamptons water.

“I’m here.”

There’s a beat of silence, then he pushes on. “So listen, me and the guys are heading to a club later tonight. You should come. It’d mean a lot.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I have better things to do than sit around with a bunch of boys and strippers.”

“We’re not boys,” Luke shoots back, defensive. “I’m twenty-five, about to get married. We’re men.”

I shake my head even though he can’t see it. I’ve told him this before, getting married doesn’t automatically make you a man, and neither does turning twenty-five. But Luke has never been good at listening when it doesn’t suit him.

“Look,” I say, cutting him off before he can argue further, “I just got in. I have a meeting with an associate in an hour. I need to freshen up and head over.”

The line goes quiet for a second. “That means you’re not coming to the rehearsal dinner?”

“Unfortunately, no. The meeting’s going to run long.”

Luke sighs, clearly disappointed. “Sharon’s family is really looking forward to meeting you, you know.”

“I’ll meet them at the wedding tomorrow,” I answer flatly.

“Alright…” He drags the word out, still trying. “It’ll be good to have you show your face at the bachelor party at least.”

I exhale through my nose. “I’ll see what I can do. But I’m not promising anything.”

“Fair enough,” he says, though I can hear the hope still lingering in his voice. “Talk soon, Uncle.”

“Talk soon.”

I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed, and head to the bathroom to freshen up.

Luke’s my nephew. Polina’s boy. The only piece of my sister I have left.

Polina was my father’s first child from his first marriage. When she was twelve, her mother died giving birth to a stillborn.

A few months later, my father, Dima, married my mother, a girl who had barely turned eighteen. Old enough to be his daughter. He had threatened to kill her parents if she refused.

That was the kind of man he was. A dirty, power-hungry pig who cared about nothing except himself and the empire he was building.

Not long after, I was born.

He treated all of us like shit. My mother, Polina, me. When Polina turned eighteen and he tried to marry her off to some ancient ally twice her age to strengthen a business alliance, she ran. Disappeared into the night and was never found.

Until five years ago.

I had just expanded into New York. I hired a private investigator and he found her. But I was too late.

She was already dying, breast cancer, stage four. We had only six months together.

I’ve looked out for Luke ever since, because that boy can be reckless. He doesn’t listen. Still, he’s blood.

I finish buttoning my shirt, shrug into my jacket, and check the pistol in my shoulder holster and the knife in my boot out of habit.

I’m meeting with one of my real estate agents tonight because business is expanding, and so more money is moving through our hands.

Which means we need more places to move it through. More legitimate streams that make everything look clean on paper.

Pedro finally leaves after two solid hours of talking numbers, locations, permits, and timelines.