Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dante
I’m not surprised to see Anton Morozov’s contact lighting up my phone, though I didn’t predict that he would call me so soon.
His plane took off a couple of hours ago, meaning he’s likely just landed back in his territory.
My daughter’s wedding reception has officially come to an end, and most of my family has made their way to their rooms for the night.
Most, but not all.
“Anton,” I greet, answering the call and tucking my phone against my ear.
Blowing out a puff of cigar smoke, I ignore the sound of my son Armani and his best friend Colton goofing off around the fire nearby.
They’re running around and drinking straight from a shared bottle of rum, which I’m sure they’ll come to regret in the morning.
“Dante,” the Russian grunts in return. “We need to talk.”
“Do we?” I ask casually. “About what?”
“You know what about.” I can hear an edge to his tone, but it sounds more tired than angry.
“I can guess,” I agree, setting my cigar down on the rest beside my seat. “But I can’t presume to know how you’d like to discuss it. Are you calling to tell me to keep my son away from your daughter, or calling to talk terms of communication for them?”
Anton mutters under his breath before answering. “Anya wants to be his friend. I haven’t decided if I’m going to approve her request.”
If he’s anything like me, his daughter’s wishes will outweigh his concern quite quickly. Saying no to your only daughter is almost impossible.
“Hmmm,” I hum, prompting him to continue.
“Dmitri speaks highly of your Matteo,” he says, tone measured and short. He must have already called his son, or texted him for an opinion at least. “Says that he’s very active in the twins’ lives. That he’s good.”
“He is,” I agree, nodding to myself. “He’s close with Jade, and has been since we found her.”
Silence cracks over the line.
“You’re hesitant,” I note bluntly. “Why?”
“Would you not be?” he challenges, voice rough. “Did you not feel the same hesitance with my son?”
“Your son got my daughter pregnant,” I remind him, no longer feeling angry when I remember how Dmitri came into our lives. “I’d say that situation was a bit different. And even so, I’ve come to accept him. If he had no father of his own, I’d now consider him one of my sons.”
“Which took time.”
I can’t disagree. “Indeed, it did. But Matteo offered your daughter friendship, did he not?”
“Friendship can grow,” Anton points out, sounding disturbed. “I do not trust that all he wishes for is to be her friend. Anya is a beautiful girl, and he is young.”
Young, as in promiscuous. Many made men at Matteo’s age are.
“His young phase ended about as quickly as it started, if that’s what you’re wondering. He doesn’t go out, and he doesn’t date.”
Huffing like he doesn’t believe me, he asks, “Drugs?”
“Cannabis, occasionally. Usually gummies to help himself sleep.”
“Drinking?”
“Hardly. He rarely drank before, but since Jade, even less.”
“Is he violent?”
I almost laugh. “Not unless he needs to be. He’s more of a keeping busy with the kids to burn off steam kind of man than getting in the ring to fight it out kind of man. Sometimes he likes to nap more than he likes to train.”
Another pause. “Is he seeing someone?”
My eyebrows hike up. “I thought we were discussing friendship.”
“We are,” he grunts. “Which is why I would be more open to the idea if he had a girlfriend or a fiancée.”
Solid idea, but unfortunately for Anton, inapplicable.
“He’s single,” I respond, knowing it isn’t what he wants to hear. “But he isn’t exactly trying to change that. He’s very focused on family lately.”
“This is my daughter, Dante,” Anton says suddenly.
“My only girl. She’s had an excruciating past few years.
I know you understand what that’s like. So I need you to be honest with me.
We’re allies now. Our children love each other.
They made children together. I need you to tell me—as family—if you think Matteo is capable of hurting my Anya.
If you think for even a moment that his intentions are impure, I need you to tell me. ”
A feeling of sympathy fills my gut as I digest his vulnerable words.
I can understand where he’s coming from, even if I don’t enjoy being grilled about my son.
Matteo is a good man. But I know, as a father of a girl who’s been hurt, what it’s like to do anything in your power to prevent that hurt from happening again.
“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to take my word for this, but he won’t hurt her, Anton. I’m not sure when he decided he was going to insert himself into her life, but you’re either going to have to forbid her from speaking to him, or let him earn your trust.”
Dmitri earned mine. Slowly, but naturally. Watching him with my daughter was the only thing I could do to thaw the coldness I’d built up toward him. Dmitri cares for her in the way that Jade deserves. And he cares for their children the way a father should.
He sighs. “Did you know that he planned to approach her?”
“I didn’t,” I answer honestly. “But I’m not surprised that he did. He has a way of making people feel welcome. He makes friends easily. He’s personable, has been since he was a baby. A bit like our grandchild, hmm?”
Momentary silence echoes again.
“Is he there?” Anton finally asks, sounding resigned.
“Matteo,” I call out, tucking the phone closer to my neck so my volume isn’t blared over the line. My son looks across the fire to me, finding me slightly in the distance, and gets up from his seat. Armani and Colton ignore us, not hearing their own names and knowing they’re not needed.
It takes only a few seconds for him to jog his way over to me, his messy hair flopping wildly as he comes to a halt in front of my chair.
“What’s up?”
“He’s here,” I say into the phone, nodding to Matteo as if Anton can see me. “You want to talk to him?”
An affirmative grunt.
Holding out my phone, I gesture for Matteo to take it.
His eyebrows draw down in confusion, but he accepts the call without question.
“Hello?”
He freezes, hearing whatever is said over the line.
Listening intently, Matteo eventually replies, “Yes, Sir.”
Then, “No, Sir.”
And finally, he rattles off ten familiar digits. Anton asked him for his phone number.
A proud smile spreads across my face, knowing that he’s decided to take a chance on my boy.
“Yes, I understand,” Matteo adds slowly. “Goodbye.”
After clicking the end call button, he releases a long, held breath.
“Good talk?” I ask innocently.
Chuckling, he hands back my phone and shakes his head. “Holy shit, he’s intense.”
“Did he threaten you?”
Matteo snorts. “Wouldn’t you have?”
Of course, I would.
“You let me know if he crosses a line,” I tell him. A command, not a request. I don’t care that Anton is being a protective father, and a proper Pakhan. If he goes too far, I’ll put him in his place. The Morozov Bratva may be a powerful force, but one on one, he doesn’t stand a chance against me.
“Snitching isn’t really my thing, Pops,” he quips with a smirk. “But I’ll keep you updated. She might not even want to talk to me after a day or two. I’ve been told that I can be a bit much.”
“He wouldn’t have called if he didn’t think she wanted to talk to you, Matteo.” I give him a firm look. “You’re not too much.”
He grins boyishly. “You have to say that, you’re my dad.”
“I don’t have to mean it, and I do.”
“Don’t make me tear up, old man.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve had enough sentimental shit happening today, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps.”
I might agree with him on any other day, but today my daughter said her vows to the man she loves.
Today I watched her dance and laugh, and I held her children as she floated around under twinkling lights, having the time of her life.
I won’t consider any amount of emotion shared today to be too much.
Jade deserves every single ounce of it, especially given how many years she went without it.
“Go enjoy the rest of the night,” I tell him, nodding back to his brother. “We have a long travel day tomorrow.”
“Those two are going to be hungover as fuck.” He happily rubs his hands together, likely thinking of his brother’s future pain. “And Apollo’s guests should prove to be interesting.”
Ah yes, the Todorov siblings. The young woman and her teenage brother who my eldest son thought prudent to claim as his own. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, seeing what he saw on the beach just a few hours ago.
Any man who hits an innocent woman just because he can deserves worse than the death Apollo granted him.
I know Nico wishes he could have properly sent him to hell, after hours of slow and excruciating torture.
But Empire Academy has rules, even if the semester isn’t in session.
And Apollo barely skated by those. Using the grounds to hold some sort of torture party would be pushing it too far.
“I don’t think they’ll have much to say tomorrow,” I tell him with a tilt of my head. “We’re a large bunch, and that can be intimidating.”
“I don’t think that woman is much for being intimidated,” he replies, smirking happily. “I heard she chewed Apollo right out. I wish I saw it. Better yet, I wish someone got it on video so I could watch and rewatch it.”
Amusement vibrates in my chest. “I’m sure she was upset with her privacy being invaded and her brother helping Apollo.”
My son shrugs, still grinning. “Whatever the reason, she’s cool in my book.”
Of course she is.
I shake my head, finally picking my cigar back up. There’s never a dull moment with this family.
My family.
“What you did today, you should know that I’m proud of you.”
Matteo freezes, eyes snapping back up to meet mine. “What?”
“You’re a good person, son. Better than most.”
“It was just a dance,” he says, sounding confused.
“No, it wasn’t. It was kindness, Matteo.”
Restraining himself, making an effort to make her comfortable.
“It’s not hard to be kind,” he rebuts, almost sounding upset. “I didn’t do it to be a good person. I wanted to meet her. I wanted to dance with a pretty girl and make a friend. That’s not being noble, Dad, it’s just…being.”
My lips twitch, spreading into a wide smile.
“Exactly.”
Matteo’s eyebrows jump up and he shakes his head in confusion. “Are you sure you’re not the one hitting the bottle, old man?”
I chuckle, putting out the last of my cigar.
“Good night, son.”
Patting him on the back, I head inside, fully content.
It’s been a good day.