Chapter 13 #2
She scoffs. “I don’t know what the three of you were thinking. Why didn’t you just go to him? You got shot. You could have died.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”
She smacks my shoulder hard. “That doesn’t make it better. You and your brothers are trying to kill me from high blood pressure. Why can’t any of you just stay out of trouble? And you’re the only one stubborn enough to refuse guards. Your brothers at least accept protection when they need it.”
I don’t need anyone following me around. I can protect myself, and I can’t have anyone discovering Kelly. Having guards means questions, reports back to my father, eyes on every move I make. They’d find out about the veterinary clinic, about him. Then everything would be over.
I’m protecting my secret by putting myself at risk.
She tsks when I don’t give her an answer, then gestures with her head for me to follow. I walk after her through the house. Our guards nod as we pass them.
She brings us to the dining hall with its massive black table sitting in the middle and chairs arranged around it.
My father, Roman, sits at the head of the table, eyes down on a tablet. Dark hair gone mostly gray now, tinted glasses on for the migraines. The black onyx crest ring catches the light when he moves his hand.
Lev, Yulian, Mikhail, and Daniil stand by the windows in a loose circle. They stop talking the moment they see me. Every one of them looks tense.
My father looks up and gestures to the chairs. “Sit. The chefs made stroganoff. We’ll eat, and then we’ll discuss what happened.”
Chairs scrape against marble as we sit at the same time.
The silence settles heavily. In this family, it never means anything good.
My mother walks over to my father. She puts her hands on his face, leans in, and says something low and soft.
He shakes his head and tries to look away, but she pushes his chin toward her and says it again, firmer this time.
He nods once, and she walks off to sit beside me.
Her perfume hits me hard. She smells exactly like she did when I was a kid.
She’s never changed it once in all these years.
Servers start coming in with our plates, setting them in front of us one by one without making eye contact, then disappear as quickly as they came. The room goes dead silent again except for the soft clink of silverware.
I glance at Mikhail. Great, he’s completely wasted.
This is going to be a fucking shitshow. He and Yulian can’t be in a room together without someone getting hit.
Actually, none of us are good at family gatherings.
This whole family can’t be in one place without it turning into a disaster.
Fighting, yelling, someone storming out, or getting almost killed.
It’s a miracle we’re still alive considering how we operate.
“Can we please stop behaving like we’re at a funeral? Let’s talk and eat,” my mother says, cutting through the tension with her usual directness.
My father looks up from his plate, and his eyes sweep across all of us slowly.
Yulian scoffs and leans back in his chair. “Yeah, let’s talk. Hey, Mikhail, how’s life? Still a complete disaster, or did something change?”
Mikhail pushes his plate away hard enough that it scrapes loudly across the table. “Don’t fucking start with me today.”
Yulian grins. “Why not? It’s family lunch. We’re supposed to bond.”
“We could bond over how much of a dick you are.”
“Original. Did that take you all morning to come up with?”
I rub at my temple while they bicker and let out a deep sigh.
“No, it came naturally. Just like how being insufferable comes naturally to you.”
Yulian smiles coldly. “I’d rather be insufferable than whatever mess you are.”
“At least I’m an interesting mess. You’re just boring.”
“Boring? I’m the only one in this family honest enough to actually call out your drug problem instead of pretending it doesn’t exist. Someone has to have the balls to say it.”
Mikhail scoffs. “Stop pretending to care.”
“I don’t want you dead, Mikhail. Believe it or not, I’d prefer if you stuck around,” Yulian snaps.
“Enough,” Father shouts, voice carrying that hard warning we all recognize.
I brace myself for what’s coming. Daniil pulls his hoodie further over his head with a resigned sigh. He already knows exactly how this ends.
“Let’s just eat first, and then we can have this conversation like adults, yeah?” Lev says, already sounding exhausted.
“It was all Alexei’s fault anyway. He fucked up at the warehouse,” Mikhail snaps. Then shoves himself up from the chair so hard it tips back and hits the marble floor with a crash. He runs a hand over his buzz cut with his blown pupils locked on me.
I raise an eyebrow. “What are you, five years old?” I pick up a glass and aim it right at his head.
He ducks just in time, and it smashes into one of those expensive-ass paintings behind him.
“You fucking dickhead! You almost took my head off!”
My father pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
Mother starts to say something, trying to calm everyone down.
Yulian pushes himself up from the table. “You are so stupid it’s actually comical. We knew instantly what went down and waited for one of you to grow a pair and speak up, but apparently that’s asking too much.”
I push myself up so fast my chair slams against the marble. “You want to keep your teeth? Then close your fucking mouth, Yulian. At least I don’t hide behind mind games like a pathetic little bitch.”
Mikhail cuts him off before he has a chance to reply.
“You are all cowards. You’re always trying to blame everything on me.
You always do this, all of you. It’s always my fault somehow.
We scouted the place beforehand, and you still went in there knowing something was off, then you got shot like an idiot. ”
I scoff. “Maybe I actually thought I could trust my brothers for once to do something right instead of messing up.”
“Please stop this. Why can’t any of you be like Daniil?” Mother cuts in, her voice tired and strained. “Look at him, he’s the only one who knows how to behave. He never argues like the rest of you animals. Why can’t you just sit and have a normal family lunch for once in your lives?”
“Because he’s fucking adopted. Maybe you should’ve adopted the rest of us too, since the only normal one here didn’t come out of your body,” I yell.
The words hang in the air for a split second before her eyes widen. It plays out in slow motion. She takes off her red heel and hurls it straight at my head with accuracy. I duck. It smashes into a sculpture behind me, sending pieces flying across the floor.
I crossed the line, not that I care. She doesn’t tolerate anyone mentioning Daniil’s adoption. Ever.
I glance at Father, expecting something.
But he just watches, unmoved, and rubs his jaw, watching all of us as if we’re insects under a microscope.
I think he’s trying to decide if he wants to murder his own family or just let us destroy each other.
If she wanted to throw the other shoe at me, he’d let her.
“Can we please just calm down now?” Lev yells.
“No, I will not fucking calm down! You need to stop blaming me for everything that goes wrong,” Mikhail snaps.
“But you’re always the one that screws things up. I mean, look at your pupils, Mikhail. What did you take this time?” Yulian fires. “I’m sure it was some nice cocktail of everything, and I’m seriously surprised you haven’t overdosed yet.”
I curse under my breath and tense up.
Mikhail clenches his fists and cracks his neck. That’s his tell—he’s about to completely lose it.
The drugs mean this is about to go from loud family argument to something deadly. His martial arts training alone is dangerous. Add whatever he’s high on, and he’s not just fast, he’s completely uncontrollable.
I circle the table, trying to reach him, but he’s faster. Three steps and he’s on Yulian, sweeping his legs out and slamming him onto the marble.
I lunge for his fists, but he catches my shirt, hooks the back of my knee in the same motion, and yanks me flat onto my back. He spins and drives a punch into Yulian’s face before anyone can react. I scramble up to stop him again.
A gunshot cracks across the dining room.
“My ceiling!” Mother screeches.
I look over at my father. He stands calmly with a gun, still aimed at the ceiling. I glance up at the fresh hole right next to all the others. He always aims for the same spot when he wants us to shut up and stop.
There are already fifteen bullet holes clustered up there, two of them from last New Year’s when Yulian completely lost his mind at Lev.
“If you’re done acting like children, we have actual work to discuss,” Father says, placing the gun on the table and sitting. “Sit. Now.”
His voice echoes through the room. Everyone immediately stops what they’re doing. Chairs get picked up, clothes get straightened, everyone moves to their seats without another word.
I have to stop myself from smiling when Yulian wipes blood from his nose.
The chair vibrates under me from Mikhail’s foot tapping frantically, trying to keep whatever cocktail of stimulants is still burning through his system under some kind of control.
“The Nozares family has been testing our boundaries for months. We’ve eliminated their attempts, but Santiago overstepped when he targeted our operations. The old fool put a contract on the escort services.”
His eyes fixate on me. “You and Calder will hit their stash house tomorrow night. Extract whatever intel you can find about this leak, then eliminate everyone on site. Clean sweep. I want to know who’s betraying us before we move on to Santiago.”
I nod and keep listening while he outlines the rest. Target locations, backup plans, exit strategies.
Even my mother sits quietly with that tense expression she gets when family business turns lethal.
Father keeps us all working. Gives each of us operations to run so we stay busy and the empire stays tight.
Lev’s stuck with the ports. Shipping, imports, paperwork. He hates it, but he’s good at making dirty money look clean.
Yulian runs that restaurant and Vespera, his escort service. Father thinks it’s beneath us, but Yulian’s too good at gathering information and making money for him to shut it down.
Mikhail handles the clubs. Money laundering, mostly. We cash for smaller families, and they pay us for it. Keeps them dependent. Daniil works with him on all the tech side—databases, security tracking.
I handle all the problems. The ones that need to disappear.
But that’s not what keeps us on top. The real power is Father’s investment firm.
Old Russian money that survived the Soviet collapse.
Manages billions for oligarchs, politicians, anyone who matters.
He can freeze accounts, bury secrets, destroy lives with a phone call.
Never has to leave his office. The ports and the clubs are just the arms. The investment firm is the heart. And we control every beat.
The meeting drags on for another hour. I find myself thinking about Kelly waiting at his apartment. I won’t make it back tonight, not with the prep and the reconnaissance before tomorrow.
The thought of him sitting there alone, probably worried sick about where I am, makes something twist uncomfortably in my gut. But this is the life I chose, the family I was born into. Kelly’s going to have to learn that sometimes the family business keeps me away longer than expected.