Chapter 4 – Lukyan
There’s booze and laughter around me, and usually it grates my nerves, but with my brothers it’s a little easier to bear.
We’re in Sebastian’s house, inside the private lounge he built into the top floor. Dark walls. Low lighting. Expensive leather furniture scattered around the fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city glowing beneath the night sky.
The room smells faintly of whiskey, smoke, and expensive cologne.
Normal.
As normal as things ever get with the Rusnaks.
I called this meeting an hour ago after leaving Sofia in my penthouse, and now that I’m here, part of me wants to lock myself inside one of Sebastian’s guest rooms and avoid this conversation entirely.
Because I already know what they’ll think.
That I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
But I don’t want anyone convincing me otherwise.
The dormant accounts are my responsibility. The Rusnak financial network has always fallen under my control, my management, my oversight. If there’s even a chance to recover what we lost sixteen years ago, then it’s my duty to pursue it.
No matter how irrational the situation becomes.
Samuel is stretched out on one of the nearby couches, a drink dangling lazily from his hand. He’s twenty-nine and only recently returned from Los Angeles after spending most of his life there. Unlike the others, Samuel is my actual blood brother.
Not that it matters here.
The Rusnaks stopped separating blood from loyalty a long time ago.
If you’re Rusnak, then you’re ours.
Simple as that.
Sebastian sits near the fireplace, nursing whiskey, while Konstantin and Timofey argue about something pointless involving weapons shipments. Dimitri remains quieter than the rest, leaning back in an armchair, observing everyone with the same calm attention he always carries.
Samuel glances around the room, finally, before his gaze lands on me.
“Okay,” he says suddenly. “Is nobody curious why Lukyan called this meeting?”
That earns a few looks.
Samuel points toward me with his glass. “This man avoids gatherings like the plague. He barely attends family meetings unless someone is bleeding or laundering millions.”
“I do not avoid meetings,” I say flatly.
Samuel stares at me.
The room goes silent for one second.
Then everyone starts laughing.
Even Dimitri smirks into his drink.
“You absolutely avoid meetings,” Konstantin says.
“You ignored my calls for three weeks once,” Timofey adds.
“Peaceful three weeks,” I reply.
Samuel grins wider. “So?” he asks. “What’s happening?”
The amusement in the room fades when they notice I don’t answer right away.
I rest my glass untouched on the table beside me.
Then I speak.
“I found a lead connected to the dormant accounts.”
That changes everything.
The atmosphere tightens.
Every man in this room understands the weight attached to those words.
Sebastian straightens first. “What kind of lead?”
“A surviving connection tied to the authentication system.”
Dimitri’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Konstantin leans forward. “Who has it?”
“Karl Jonathan.”
The room quiets again.
Samuel frowns. “Who is that?”
“A manipulative fucker, that’s who he is,” Sebastian says.
Timofey’s expression darkens. “Karl doesn’t move unless something benefits him.”
“Correct.”
“So what does he want?” Dimitri asks.
There it is.
The question I’ve been avoiding since I walked into this house.
For the first time tonight, I hesitate.
Briefly.
Samuel notices. “Oh, this is bad,” he says. “You paused.”
I ignore him, then say it plainly. “He gave me a condition.”
Sebastian watches me carefully now. “What condition?”
I hold his gaze. “I have to marry someone of his choice.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Samuel blinks once, then twice. “No.”
Konstantin bursts into laughter first.
Timofey follows immediately after him.
Sebastian actually chokes slightly on his drink.
“You?” Konstantin says between laughs. “Marriage?”
“I know you punched him into the ground and walked out of there,” Dimitri scoffs.
Ideally, that’s exactly what I should’ve done.
Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been.
Karl Jonathan isn’t a man I trust. Men like him survive because they know how to manipulate desperation inside other people.
And unfortunately for me, I am desperate.
The dormant accounts cannot remain inaccessible forever. Not when there are people outside the Bratva still searching for them. So no. This isn’t normal circumstances.
“I already said yes.”
This time, the silence is absolute.
Samuel is the first one to react. “Hell no.”
“Samuel, calm down,” I say evenly. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?” Timofey asks sharply, fixing me with a disapproving stare. “Because even if marriage became necessary, it shouldn’t be to a woman Karl selected for you.”
Konstantin nods once. “That part feels like a trap.”
I raise a hand slightly before the conversation can spiral. I’m not usually the mediator among us. But this morning apparently demands the impossible.
“Relax,” I say calmly. “I understand Karl is manipulative. I understand he’s likely hiding something. But if this leads us to the code needed to access the dormant accounts, then the risk is worth it.”
“How?” Mike asks from across the room, finally speaking for the first time tonight. “What if the girl is working with him?”
My gaze shifts toward him. “She isn’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Mike counters immediately. “Imagine bringing an enemy directly into your home. That’s a perfect setup for disaster. And death.”
“The girl doesn’t know Karl,” I answer firmly. “I spoke to her myself. She genuinely has no idea who he is.”
Mike leans back but still looks unconvinced. “Fine,” he says. “But there has to be some connection between them. Karl wouldn’t insist on this marriage for no reason.”
“Exactly,” I reply. “Which means Sofia is important to this.”
The room quiets slightly again.
“I want her close,” I continue. “If she’s connected to the code in any way, proximity gives us the advantage.”
My brothers exchange glances. Some skeptical. Some thoughtful. Some already irritated on my behalf.
“Look,” I say finally, “if this is handled correctly, nothing goes wrong. It’s a marriage. Once this situation is resolved, we divorce and move on.”
Samuel looks horrified. “You say that like you’re discussing a business merger. Marriage isn’t business.”
“In fairness,” Sebastian mutters, “that’s exactly what he’s doing.”
“What’s the girl saying about all this?” Sebastian asks.
I think briefly about Sofia glaring at me in my penthouse with enough fury to burn the building down.
“She disagrees with the arrangement.”
“As she should,” Samuel mutters.
“I told her it was for protection,” I continue. “It helps that she already has ties to the family.”
That immediately gets everyone’s attention.
Timofey frowns. “What do you mean ‘ties’?”
Their expressions sharpen slightly.
“Who is she?” Konstantin asks.
I deliberately meet Timofey’s eyes when I answer. “Sofia Morozova.”
Recognition slams into his face instantly. Then horror. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he breathes.
Samuel looks confused. “You know her?”
Timofey drags a hand over his face. “My wife’s best friend.”
The room explodes immediately.
Konstantin starts laughing again. “Oh, I think I’ve seen her a few times. Blond. Blue eyes.”
I feel a spark of irritation that Konstantin noticed that about her, but I press it down.
Sebastian actually looks entertained now.
Mike swears under his breath.
Samuel points at me accusingly. “You kidnapped Valeria’s best friend?”
“I did not kidnap—”
“You absolutely kidnapped her,” Dimitri interrupts. “There’s no way Sofia would willingly come with you.”
Timofey looks exhausted already. “Fantastic,” he mutters. “Now I have to spend the next six months pacifying my wife.” He fixes me with another glare. “You couldn’t have chosen literally anyone else?”
I snap my fingers in his face once. “Are you listening?” I say sharply. “Karl chose her. Not me. Do you know anything about her? I know she already lost her father.”
Timofey leans back, the irritation easing into something more thoughtful.
“Valeria and I don’t talk about her best friend,” he says after a pause.
“But from what little I know… Sofia doesn’t talk about her family either.
She was raised by her uncle. That’s who she’s always known.
” He shrugs. “I doubt she ever knew her father in any real way.”
I nod once. That aligns. That fits what Karl implied. More pieces that don’t yet form a full picture. But enough to keep moving forward.
“So you’re getting married,” Samuel says, dragging the words out like he’s testing how ridiculous they sound. “That’s a little weird. I thought you’d end up a monk. I’ve never seen you with a woman.”
I cut him a look. “Can you be serious for five seconds?”
He grins. “I am being serious.”
“No,” Konstantin says under his breath. “He is not.”
Dimitri finally speaks, voice calm but direct. “When’s the wedding?”
The room shifts again. The laughter fades a little. Now it’s business. Now it’s real.
“In two days,” I answer. A beat. Then I add, colder. “If I can make it happen faster, I will. I need access to the codes.”
Samuel whistles softly. “Two days,” he repeats. “You’re really doing this.”
“I don’t have time for doubt,” I say simply.
Timofey exhales through his nose, still looking personally unhappy about the entire situation. “You’re marrying a woman you don’t know,” he says.
“I’ve spoken to her.”
“That doesn’t count as knowing someone.”
“It’s enough for now.”
Konstantin leans forward, studying me. “And after the wedding?” he asks. “What then? You plan to keep her in the penthouse while you untangle Karl’s game?”
My jaw tightens briefly. “No. I move her to my estate while I stay in the penthouse. The less I see her, the better.”
Samuel raises a brow. “That sounds… healthy.”
I ignore him.
Dimitri tilts his head. “And if Karl is lying?”
A silence follows that question. He doesn’t need to elaborate. Because that is the real risk sitting underneath everything. Karl Jonathan does not involve himself in arrangements unless the outcome benefits him more than anyone else involved.
Which means Sofia Morozova is either the key or the bait.
I stare at the glass in front of me. The whiskey hasn’t been touched.
“I’ll find out,” I say finally.
Samuel sighs dramatically.
“Of course you will,” he mutters. “Because why would anything in our lives ever be simple?”
Sebastian finally leans back in his chair, watching me with a slow, measured look.
“I wish you luck, brother,” he says. “You’re going to need it.”