Page 24

I say bullshit. As much as I respect and love my Papa, he has never done a single bit of this crap in his life. His brother, my actual father, was the brains back in the day. But I do not dare question.

Picking battles and such.

I have found advantages by knowing the books and every single member of our operation across the country. Including our allied brotherhoods and our rivals.

Pausing to gaze out the window, I revel in a hint of sunlight, rare this late in the year. It’s the little things. Like the rich coffee in my cup, spiked with just a hint of vodka to take the edge off of my poor sleep and aching body. Sparring always gets me sore, but Ciro is on another level. A real challenge.

I’m lost in thought when my door swings open, a soft knock on the frame.

I know without looking who it is. No one else would dare to come straight in.

“Sestrenka, what are you up to?” Matvey is always soft-spoken in the mornings, so like our mother. I, on the other hand, prefer not to talk at all.

“Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. Like I’m a fucking secretary.”

“You’re a whole lot more than a secretary. Maid, servant, gopher…you do it all for Uncle,da?” He throws his head back right before he throws himself down on my bed.

Anyone else would annoy the shit out me, but he knows how to brighten my day. Okay, so he pisses me off just as often. Still, Mat is a shining star. He’s been through hell in his life. We both have. Nothing ever sticks. Nothing brings him down.

Where I am hard, stone cold, he is just as resilient. Only he is like a river, persistent and flowing. Even when he is dammed up, shut down, roughed up…he lets it all flow by. Probably why he and Ciro are two…how do you say it?

Pods with the peas.

Ciro’s light is much dimmer than I remember from when we met, but I know it’s still there. Which is why I like seeing them spar, joke. And why I need Matvey to look out for him. Ciro will protect my brother in turn.

“Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to warn you. Fyo’s on the rampage today. Be on the lookout.”

“He’s in rare form every day since you know who got here.”

“I’ve never seen someone get under his skin like this. He throws little child tantrums. Especially when he sees you two together. Like he thinks he owns you or something.”

“He is good soldier. Always has been, he just has misconceptions about us. After all, our parents were close with his. They made plans and promises…”

“Yeah, well, that ‘promise’ does mean shit if it’s not what you want. This is the twenty-first century, Van, not some aristocratic arrangement.”

“Sometimes I wonder…the way we do things. It’s outdated.”

“You can dress it up with tech and leather, but the Bratva will always be about blood and vengeance, right?” He smiles, quirking an eyebrow. Got to love his sarcasm.

“Politics will always be right there waiting to muck it all up too. But I have too much to do to think about Fyodor. Something about crossing bridges when I get to them,” I mutter, waving my hand dismissively.

“I think there is another bridge in your way right now if you would just cross it.”

“That is shit metaphor.”

“Ciro is bridge. Just to be clear.”

“Thanks, and shut the fuck up. Stay out of my love life,da?”

“What love life?”

“Don’t you have protection payments to collect?”

“Alexi handled it. But he wants me to spy on some local hooligans. Some ‘suspicious’ activity down in foundry. Probably another underground dog-fighting ring. I’ll shut it down, or make them pay.”

“Good boy. Do not get into trouble or gamble away your monthly stipend.”