Page 27 of Fire and Silk

Heavy steps. Controlled aggression.

Maksim.

He strides into the room, jaw clenched, blazer stretched tight across his shoulders, hair slicked neat. He always looks like he’s trying to pass for someone respectable and failing at it.

Trailing beside him—another figure.

Broader. Older. A presence made of weight more than noise.

Uncle Nereo.

Our father’s younger brother. Dressed in tailored navy, wedding ring polished, walking like he’s still owed applause from a different generation. I dont understand

Maksim doesn’t waste time. “What’s he doing here?” he growls.

Mina doesn’t flinch. “Lunch.”

I lean back in my chair, spreading my arms like I’m welcoming applause. “Can I not come for a meal with my beautiful sister?”

Maksim stops short, nostrils flaring. His hand twitches like he wants to reach for something. I can almost taste his restraint.

I shift my gaze to the uncle. Smile slow. “Uncle Nereo.”

He doesn’t smile back. Doesn’t even greet me.

Good boy.

I know his price. I’ve paid it enough times.

In public, Nereo stands firm behind the “true heirs”—Mina and Maksim. He attends their meetings, signs their papers, and carries their banner like a faithful hound.

But every report, every contract, every whisper of who’s moving which shipment?

It comes to me.

Because loyalty is cheap.

And Nereo is a man who enjoys silk sheets and Cuban cigars too much to care who actually wins—as long as he’s paid in full.

I raise my glass to him. “Looking sharp as ever.”

He looks past me like I’m air. My grin widens.

Let them play their little alliance.

I own the floor they’re standing on.

Mina’s jaw is angled like a blade, arms crossed just so. Maksim’s eyes practically steam behind me, and Nereo stays exactly where he should—silent, unreadable, performing neutrality.

I swirl the wine slowly and take a sip.

I set the glass back down, careful not to smudge the stem.

“Well,” I murmur, rising and adjusting my cufflinks with a snap, “I guess the fun’s over.”

I sweep an appreciative glance across the table, my voice bright with mock warmth.

“Ilovedeating with you and almost getting killed. No one does it quite like you, sister.”