Regardless, my sons are not safe here. Neither are their mother and grandmother.
“I want you to pack a bag. Both of you. All four of you are leaving with me tonight. You will live with me.” I pause, because I need another breath to say the words. “We will be married.”
7
MINA
I laugh.It isn’t pretty. Maniacal, really. “I’m sorry—what?”
He doesn’t repeat himself. He looks past me and lifts two fingers. The door opens. One of his goons stands in the doorway. Another man I don’t know steps in behind him with a canvas duffel.
“No,” I say, moving between them and the boys. “Nobody touches anything until I understand what’s happening.”
Roman lowers his hand. The men pause. The room goes quiet except for the low baby noises and the building air kicking on. My mother sets her tea down carefully, like it’s a prop that has to be returned intact.
“What is going on?” I ask Roman.
He holds my eyes. “My son is consolidating power. He is pushing men who like tradition and men who like a fight. He will use anything that looks like leverage. The twins are not safe outside my compound. Neither are you.”
“Yourcompound.” I almost smile. “You mean your house.”
“I mean a place I control. Walls. Cameras. People who answer to me.”
“And the marriage?” I ask. “That part you tossed in like a gift with purchase?”
“Not a gift.” He doesn’t blink. “Cover. Legitimacy. Legal protections. If we are married, you have rights that no one can talk you out of. Next of kin, decisions if I’m hurt, access to lawyers and doctors and money if someone tries to shut a door. The boys become my named heirs by default. I have disowned Vitaly. Right now I have no legal heir. That is dangerous for a pakhan. People test what looks weak. This benefits us both.”
The word hits my chest even though I already knew it.Pakhan.The first time I heard it, it was a title my ex tossed around like a crown he’d already measured for his head. Now it is a problem in my living room in a charcoal suit.
“My sons would inherit illegal businesses,” I say, because if I don’t put it into air it will turn into a stone in my stomach.
“They will inherit what I choose to make theirs,” he answers. “Companies. Real property. Enough structure to protect them. As for the rest—what is illegal does not sit in a will. But men will still look for an heir. If there isn’t one, they will make one out of themselves. That means war. War ends up in places like this.” He lifts his chin toward the thin door, the rattling window, the stroller parked for flight.
“Say the part about Vitaly without euphemisms,” my mother says, cutting through what’s left of my shock. “You said ‘disowned.’ What does that mean in your world?”
“It means he does not inherit a thing from me,” Roman says. “It means I will not hand him my people. It means if he uses you orthe boys to force my hand, I treat him as an enemy, not as a son who deserves patience.”
My hand finds the table without looking. I feel the worn wood under my palm and the old paint rubs off like chalk. “And marriage fixes that?”
“It closes a door he wants open,” Roman says. “It tells men who are counting that I have a family under my protection. It gives you a leash on me too—legal standing. And it puts the boys in a place where their names are not a question.”
“I’m supposed to trust that you’re thinking aboutmyleash on you?”
“You are supposed to do the smart thing and survive. I do not ask you to trust me tonight. I tell you to move in with me now. Trust comes later.”
His man hasn’t moved since Roman’s gesture, but his eyes skim the apartment like he’s memorizing an evacuation plan. The other man watches the hall. I can hear our neighbors’ TV through the wall and the rumble of the elevator. Everything ordinary keeps going while my life changes shape.
“You come into my home after a year,” I say, fury waking up under the fear, “and you tell me to play wife because your house looks soft from the outside?”
“I tell you to move because the deli was a preview,” he says. “The boys are leverage and trophies in his head. I am not waiting for him to choose the hour.” He glances at the playpen and then back at me. It isn’t soft. It is exact. “You wanted plain words. Here they are. If you stay here, he will test this door. Or that fire escape. Or your windows. Barring that, he may kill your neighbor so he can access that wall and come through it.” Hedrags his fingers through his dark and silver hair. “But if you come with me, he will testmydoor. And my door is heavier.”
I look at my mother. Her face is tight, but she doesn’t look surprised. She nods once—ask the rest.So I do.
“What about my job? I can’t just vanish. I have to tell them something.”
“Your job will be wife and mother. I will pay you triple your salary to manage those duties. Not that you’ll need a salary, as you’ll have access to some of my accounts.”
I swallow hard. “Money doesn’t come without responsibilities.”
