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“I know.” He holds up his glass. “But if anyone could keep the woman safe, it would be you.”
Nodding my agreement, I picture a defenseless woman fighting off a pack of wolves and remind myself that I’m an enforcer, not a knight in shining armor.
CHAPTER THREE
Yuri
The banquet hall is packed with wedding guests, and the moment my brother and I enter, the noise cuts off like someone unplugged the sound system. Thirty seconds pass before people resume their conversations, and I wonder if it’s something I’ll become accustomed to.
“That was for me, wasn’t it?”
“Sure. Everyone can’t wait to pay tribute to the Bratva’s new arms broker.”
Vlad smooths his hand over his hair. “Do you blame them?”
“No, man.” We stand just inside the entrance, and I know my younger brother can peacock better than anyone in the room. Not only did he inherit his good looks from Mama’s side, but he possesses an affable personality that makes him popular.
I look like Papa and assume most people describe me as big and scary, with many adding inhuman. Hero. Villian. Monster. Few can decide which label is appropriate.
“Do you see the happy couple?”
“To our left.” I study Pavel and his bride, surrounded by a group of babushkas chattering away. “You have the envelope?”
Vlad pats his suit coat. “Right here.”
“It’s our turn.” The babushkas move away from the couple, and we approach them to offer our congratulations. Men like Pavel are the core of the Bratva, and it’s important to not only welcome their brides into the fold but remind them that loyalty is the only choice.
Fifteen minutes later, the congratulations are dispensed with, and I am ready for a drink and perhaps something from the tables piled with food. “Are you going to make the rounds?”
“Of course.” Vlad slaps me on the back. “Do you think the missing heiress is here?” He makes a show of looking around. “Hiding in plain sight.”
“Sure. Finding a needle in a haystack is always that fucking easy.”
“You should take the Vor up on his offer and put yourself at the head of the line.”
“Because money buys happiness?” I ask with disgust.
“No!” He buttons his suit coat. “You need more than your job to keep you warm at night.” He presses his hand against his heart. “Unlike you, I’m not afraid of this thing beating inside my chest and know that in the right hands, it will become stronger.”
“Or torn into a million pieces.” I step back. “And in case you’ve forgotten, arranged marriages don’t happen to include love.”
“You never know what’s possible.” He fixes his cufflink. “Like Icarus, I’m willing to fly close to the sun even if it melts my wings. The reward is too great to play it safe.”
“He fell to his death in a raging sea.”
“The view must’ve been incredible, and treating every day like it’s your last is the only way to live.”
“If I did that, the body count would be staggering.”
“True.”
I watch him step back with a confident smile. “I’ll catch you later.”
He tips his chin and then strides toward a group of men.
“Yuri, come and join us.”
Turning, I see my old friend, Luka, and move in his direction, noting that the banquet hall is decorated like 19thCentury St. Petersburg.Ornate floral wallpaper covers the walls, and the glass-beaded chandelier’ssoft lights bounce off the women’s dresses, making me wonder if Romanov ancestors were expected instead of the criminal elite.
