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PROLOGUE

Harper

Age 10

“Everything is going to be alright,” Mama says, squeezing my fingers as she tries to reassure me. “I’m sure you’ll love it here. And the boys are just a year older than you.”

I nod and smile at her.

I know she’s been trying really hard. As far back as I can remember, it has always been the two of us. I have no memories of my Papa.

Mama said he wasn’t a good man.

My eyes dart around, trying to absorb the enormity of the space surrounding us.

This place is big. Really big.

There’s a gate at the entrance, and people are guarding it.

According to Mama, Iakov is a man of great importance in the Bratva.

With a loud creak, the large door swings open, revealing a massive man leading a pair of identical individuals.

“Finally,” he says with a thick accent. “You must be Harper.” His fingers squeeze my cheek, causing me discomfort. “And here are Sinkler and Nikolai. Your new brothers.”

The two boys give me this weird look that makes me want to crawl into a hole and never show my face again.

Their faces are mirrors of each other, and their bright green eyes remind me of the sweet treats Mama always warns me about, cautioning me that they may taste bitter.

They’re pretty. I like this colour.

Their short and impeccable dark hair is accompanied by a dark suit that stands out against their pale skin.

I’m certain their papa asked them to look presentable for today, just as Mama did for me.

The only difference is their expression.

One of them gives me a shy smile, while the other gives me a hard look as if he doesn’t want me here.

“I’m Nikolas,” says the boy with a shy smile.

I look at him, confused. “I thought your father said your name was Nikolai.”

“It is,” Iakov reprimands him.

Nikolas or Nikolai leans closer to me and whispers in my ear, “I hate it when he calls me Nikolai.”

I nod at him because I understand hating what one of your parents does or says.

“This is Sinkler. You’ll probably not be able to tell who is who,” he chuckles.

I can already tell them apart.

“I’m Harper.”

Sinkler’s disapproving gaze meets mine before he dismissively shakes his head and retreats inside.

“Don’t mind him. You’ll get used to it.”