Page 17

Although among the other invitees, I was just another face in a line of gangsters. We were all sinners, killers, or psychopaths. All the above and more, depending on the case.
Innocence was a rare trait most of us didn’t get to possess for long.
Which is precisely why we went to all lengths to protect our sister. We’ve seen ourselves as sworn protectors since the moment she joined this family, a little bundle with a pink bow in her fair hair. Until the very end, no matter who her husband ends up being.
Pakhan or not, I wouldn’t hesitate to rid the world of him. A tiny slip on his side would be enough to kickstart me into action.
“Andrei, you need to cheer up. You’re staring,” Alisa’s voice forced me to pay attention.
“Observing,” our oldest brother corrected, his voice dripping with irritation. His usual broody self.
“Can you observe with less of a snare?”
Luka, my younger brother, clapped Andrei on the back, grinning. “A couple more shots should do the trick,” he said, already flagging down the bartender for a refill.
Andrei immediately protested with a grunt. “We need to stay alert.”
Being the oldest meant you got stuck with responsibilities you never asked for.
“Chill, man. We get it,” Luka teased, a playful glint in his eyes as he poked at Andrei.
“Where’s the groom? Shouldn’t he be here?” I asked, looking for any excuse to throw Ilya under the bus.
“He’s here,” Andrei stated, sounding more informed. “He called me earlier, requesting a meeting.”
A grin took over my features. Interesting turn of events. I expected to run into Ilya and use the moment to speak my mind, but a better opportunity just presented itself.
“Meeting, you say?” Eagerness mixed with excitement rang in my voice, and given our close bond, my siblings had no trouble picking up on it.
Alisa immediately reacted, her gaze sharp as she read my expression. “No fights and no shooting. You especially, Maxim,” she pointed at me for emphasis.
I raised one eyebrow in question. “Why me?”
Patting me on the shoulder, Alisa spoke her mind. “Brat, it’s simple. You make impulsive decisions, while the rest of us are more likely to ask questions before we shoot.”
Yeah, that sounds like me. With a confident smile, I corrected her. “If I’m shooting, there are no questions left to ask.”
“I might have one. Who’s that?”
All heads turned to our brother, attempting to figure out who or what had caught his attention. When Luka nonchalantly gestured toward the back of the room, we all followed in perfect sequence, discretion be damned.
A woman stood tall with the groom-to-be, deep in conversation. With no security in sight, she leaned close to Ilya with such confidence that I questioned her position.
The dress she wore resembled the crimson liquid we were all too familiar with. I should know, since that very color filled my body inside and out. A bold choice for someone’s wedding party, let alone the Pakhan’s. The stranger earned an unimportant plus in my book, a token of respect.
I could spend a minute trying to find the intent. There might be none, for obviously, there were other reasons behind the decision. If anything, the way the material hugged her curves was probably the main one. Even from a distance, I could tell the match was undeniable.
They walked out of the room toward the back before I had a chance to analyze further. She didn’t seem like anyone I recognized, and since I was pretty good with faces, I’d remember her, her style, her posture, the subtle combination of daring and elegant.
Then again, I didn’t pay much attention to women these days.
When the duo disappeared, my older brother answered the question hanging in the air.
“Someone whose radar you don’t want to end up on,” Andrei clarified.
I flashed him a wicked smile. “Now I’m even more interested.”
“Your funeral,stronzo.” A dark-haired man seated at the left side of the bar pitched in. His deep voice silenced us all. He clearly fucking eavesdropped on our entire conversation.