4. Blood Ties
4
BLOOD TIES
RORY
A s my main bodyguard, Alexei and I spend a lot of time together. We aren’t exactly what I would call friends, but he knows me well enough by now to know how to read my moods.
We ride home with the radio off.
The practice session today wore me out. Add to that, the gym workout this morning, the ballet lesson in between, plus the Chill Zone shift tonight... I’m tired and overstimulated.
I count my cash tips silently in the passenger seat. I’m not pretentious enough to ride in the back of the armored SUV alone, like my father or brother might.It was a solid shift. Two hundred more dollars to add to my stash.
I shove the money into the zippered part of my backpack, right next to my black cards.
Sure, I have access to enough money that I can buy just about anything I want. But it’s my father’s money. And easily traced. The cash is a contingency plan. If I can’t remain competitive as a figure skater, I’ll be married off to the highest bidder. Or sold off, is more like it. My athletic accomplishments were the only reason I’ve escaped the altar so far.
Arranged marriage. While archaic and antiquated, the practice is very much still alive in today’s reigning mafia families.
Leaning back in my seat, I rest my head up against the cool window, a dull ache in my forehead.The medication from Dr. Jakes is wearing off.
By the time Alexei pulls into the mansion’s gates, I’m fully ready to trade my jeans for sweats and curl up alone in my room with a good book. And maybe a steak... I’m starving.
The Audi in the driveway ruins all my plans.
Niko.
Alexei opens my door for me as he always does, but instead of trailing me inside like he normally would, he lingers by the SUV. He offers me a grim smile.
I hesitate when I reach the front door, my hand hovering just over the brass knob. The cold stone of the mansion’s exterior walls looms over me. Taking a deep breath, I force down the bubbling anxiety before finally twisting open the knob and stepping into silence.
The foyer is empty. The marble floors gleam in the fading evening sunlight, well buffed to perfection.
Cautiously, I poke my head into the kitchen, finding it too to be empty and just as ominously quiet as the foyer was. No cook to be found. Deciding to swap my steak for a protein shake, I head for the fridge.
After retrieving the milk for my shake, I shut the door, revealing a pissed off looking Niko standing right behind it and nearly jump out of my skin.
“What do you want?” I say with far more confidence than I feel. I wish Alexei was here, even though he can’t protect me from my own brother. As the son of the Pakhan, Niko outranks him.
Clutching the milk to my chest, I back away as inconspicuously as I can manage. My heart is racing.
Wishing someone else was in the room.
Anyone.
Witnesses .
Needing to put as much space between us as possible, I take the milk and my cup and circle back around the island, keeping my eye on Niko as I go. My brother’s earned his reputation for being both unpredictable and unhinged; a dangerous combination.
And he despises me.
Thankfully, Niko remains where he is. He folds his arms as he leans against the refrigerator. “Well, aside from the fact this is my house… I can’t check in on my little sister?” His eyes follow me as I move around the kitchen island, snagging on the Breakers jersey I’m still wearing.
I scoff under my breath, mixing the chocolate powder into the poured milk. “The sister you’ve tried relentlessly to get rid of since she moved back in?” I dare glare at him before quickly averting my eyes. He’s a lot scarier now than he was when we were kids . “No.”
Niko’s expression doesn’t change. He always looks like he’s just pissed off at the world. His blue eyes watch me finish making my shake.
There’s no love lost between my brother and I. He’s never missed a moment to remind me how much I don’t belong here. How I’m not a Kostalov. That my mother was just a gold-digging whore who lied to get what she wanted out of my father.
He can deny me all he wants, but the resemblance is striking.Both of us favor our father in looks. Same sandy blonde hair and steel-blue eyes. And even though my hair is a shade darker than his, there’s no mistaking Kostalov-blue-eyes.
Can’t say that I blame him, seeing as how our father was married to Niko’s mother when he fathered me. Niko’s hated me since the day I was born. Though I hardly see how that’s my fault. It’s not like I had a say in the matter.
It didn’t help that we were raised separately. My mother’s wish. She petitioned to keep me, a delicate daughter, as far from this world as she could. And even though he never left his wife for her, my father adored my mother and so he granted her wish.
My mother whisked me away far from the Bratva, far from Boston, and threw me into figure skating to appease my father. Niko made being here so unbearable that I hardly ever visited. This was the longest I’d been home in years.
“Since when do you like hockey?” Niko’s still staring at the jersey, his upper lip curled in distaste.
“I don’t.” I shift uneasily, playing with the long sleeves, uncomfortable under his gaze. “We have to wear them at the Chill Zone.”
He looks at me like I have five heads. “I don’t get why you want to work there. You have black cards for Christ’s sakes!”
So I can run away from here.
I take a long drink of my shake, mumbling something about it keeping me busy in between training sessions. Eyeing my brother warily as I do. If anyone suspects what I’m up to, it’s game over.
An uncomfortable silence follows before Niko speaks again. “Father called me.”
I flinch at the mention of the F-word. I recover quickly and hope Niko didn’t notice.
His eyes narrow, telling me he did, and continues, “He wants a meeting. Both of us.”
I cough, to hide my yelp of surprise. Aside from the required Sunday dinners where we sit in uncomfortable silence and discuss little other than my training and the weather, I rarely see my father, let alone talk to him.
“What for?”
“To discuss your future in this family .” He frowns, his words dripping with disapproval.
Recovering from my initial reaction, I roll my eyes. “If this is another one of your attempts to get rid of me?—”
“I didn’t call it.” Niko’s jaw tightens and I freeze.
“When?” I carefully place my drink down on the counter, noticing my hand shaking.
“Now.”