1
EMIL
Tugging at my tie didn’t make me feel any more comfortable. No matter what I tried to do, this tuxedo was too tight. Too stiff. Too rigid. I was used to fine suits, but this new tux that I’d ordered for my cousin’s wedding just didn’t suit me.
Ha. Ha.
My suit doesn’t suit me.
I rolled my eyes at my own thoughts, stuck in too much of a funk to stop being so distracted. Even though I was late to get here on time, I was present to celebrate Ivan and Raisa getting married.
Actually, as of a couple of minutes ago, when Ivan whisked his new bride away from this fancy party in the crowded ballroom, we were all here and gathered to see the newlyweds enjoying the celebration. Since they’d taken off, though, I was now the backup of babysitting their son, Lev.
Another heavy sigh left my lips as I scanned the big room to glance at the young boy. Babysitting wasn’t really my forte. I was getting more practice in babysitting my half-brother, babyAndre. Then there was Misha, too, my cousin Alexsei’s son. Still, I wouldn’t slack in my duties, however new they still were to me. For so long, it had just been Misha in the family, and Alexsei was very hands-on with raising his son.
Ivan and Raisa trusted me and Alexsei with Lev for the night, and I wouldn’t fail. As I’d learned so far, keeping an eye on Lev was easier said than done. When that almost-eight-year-old teamed up with Misha, who’d be seven soon, they were faster as a pair of hellions than they were solo.
“They’re over there,” Alexsei said as he approached. He tipped his chin in the direction of the dessert bar where many guests were coming back for seconds. “By the—fuck.” He hurried off, not quite jogging, as he spotted them reaching up high to get some chocolate out of the fountain, too far up where they’d potentially knock it over.
I cringed, watching as one of the cooks and staff helpers near the table smiled and prevented disaster. The young man shook his head at Lev, who pouted. Misha tugged on Lev’s sleeve to get him to flee at the sight of Alexsei rushing over.
“Close call,” I muttered to myself, wondering how much longer I’d need to be here for the night. Young boys didn’t stay up late all the time, right?
“Yes. A close call,” Gabriella, my father’s wife, said as she found me lounging in the chair at the table reserved for the wedding party. “As in it was a close call for you to get here on time.” She sat, arching one dark brown brow at me.
“It was not a close call, Gabs.”
She pressed her lips together. “Don’t call me that.”
“Okay. Gabby, then.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you insist on nicknaming me?”
“Maybe because I see you more like a sister to annoy than a stepmother.”
That got a smile out of her. “I couldn’t beyourmother, anyway. Not unless I traveled back in time.”
I nodded, still scanning the scene. Being this alert and on guard wasn’t necessary. Numerous Dubinin soldiers and men were watching this place. Countless layers of security had been installed and practiced for Ivan and Raisa’s wedding. Ivan was one of the top men in the Dubinin Family, just like Alexsei and I were under my father’s rule, and as such, the guestlist for this wedding was a lengthy one. However, any time this many members of the family were located in one building, extra measures were expected.
I didn’t have to be on guard, but some things never changed. I had been born this way, and I was raised to never assume peace was feasible, at least, not for long.
“That’s true,” I told her. “Therefore, it’s easier for me to lose the formality with you.” She was younger than me, yet married to my father now.
“As if you’re ever formal to begin with.” She scowled, shoving my hand down from my current reach up to tug at my tie. “Stop fidgeting.”
“I’m not.” I was a lethal assassin. If I did something as ordinary as fidgeting, it’d be for disguise. “Cool and calm. That’s me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not tonight. I saw you rushing into the church so last-minute.”
I shrugged, spotting Alexsei with Misha and Lev near the dance floor. It looked like he was trying to get them away from the center of the area, where adults moved under the clumsiness of alcohol in their systems. “Better late than never.”
She shook her head. “You almost missed the wedding!”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t miss it, but you almost did. You know, I spent a lot of time planning this day for Ivan and Raisa.”
I was well aware of that fact because when she married my father, she was too much of a target to feel comfortable leaving the house.
