CHAPTER
ONE
VIKTOR
There aretwo things that have to be done: make this city remember who owns it, and remind every family that once bent the knee to Father they answer to me now.
I walk toward Vespers, my boots hitting the pavement with a weight that says this street belongs to me. I’m not the Pakhan yet, just a dead man’s son moving through a city that thinks it can forget the right Morozov name. My ribs ache, the dull throb reminding me that the harbor meeting didn't go as quietly as I wanted.
The bass hits first, vibrating through my boots as we carve through the crowd. This is our territory. The bodies part for us out of habit, and we hit the bar. The bartender doesn’t wait for an order; he just lines up three tumblers and fills them with the good stuff.
Lev snatches his up and slams it back before the liquid even settles. He exhales a sharp, burning breath, eyes bright with adrenaline. “Fifty million, Vitya. I had them sweating through their suits by the time I walked them through the new security contracts. That’s just the first quarter. Can you believe that?”
“I can. If they deliver what they promised.” I tap my glass against his but don’t drink. My eyes stay on the crowd, scanning faces for the flicker of a threat. I have the harbor now.
“You’re still scanning the room,” Nikolai notes, leaning his back against the bar so he can watch the floor. “The contracts are signed. The ink is dry. Drink your damn vodka before it evaporates.”
“The ink’s never dry until the first shipment clears the crane,” I counter, my gaze settling on a group of men by the far exit. “And even then, people develop memory loss.”
Lev chuckles, wiping a stray drop of alcohol from his lip. “He’s right, Niko. My brother doesn’t sleep; he just waits for people to disappoint him.”
“It’s a full-time job,” I mutter.
I eye my younger brother. He looks like Father did before the end. Proud. Untouchable. And breakable.
“Well, I bet the bastard pissed himself when he saw Lev’s pretty face walk into that boardroom,” Nikolai scoffs. “He thought he was dealing with a kid until Lev started tearing into them. Pretty face, sharp brain.”
I bump my best friend’s shoulder, feeling the muscle beneath his jacket. “I think the guy was just relieved I showed up to keep Lev from taking his head off.”
Nikolai’s mouth quirks. “Exactly. Still, you gave them a minute to think.”
“That’s because I had it handled.” Lev straightens, adjusting his collar. “They were bluffing.”
Nikolai snorts, and I don’t bother holding back my laugh. Lev thinks it was a game of poker; I know it was a standoff.
“What?” Lev blinks, glancing between us. “What?”
“Nothing,mladshenkiy... I watched you skin them alive tonight. I told you that. They wouldn’t have even opened the doors if they knew you were that cold behind a smile.”
Lev practically glows at the praise.
“Perhaps we should find Lev some entertainment for the night.” I wink at Nikolai. “As a thank you.”
“Please. The last time I took a girl home, you practically kicked her out of the house.”
“That’s because she was sniffing around the office.”
“She wasn’t sniffing, she was practically conducting an audit,” I remind him. “I don’t care who you fuck, Lev, as long as they don’t have a wire or a hidden agenda. Which, in this city, narrows your options to about three people.”
“And two of them are related to us,” Nikolai adds, cackling.
Lev huffs, his gaze drifting back to the crowd.
“Maybe you should try a guy this time?” Nikolai nods toward the door where a group of boys filter in. “Like, that one? Black shirt. Blond hair. He’s cute.”
“A guy,” Lev mutters. “They’re even harder to get.”
The waitress slides a separate tray of shots onto the wood before we can even ask. She’s worked Vespers long enough to know the Morozovs don’t like empty glasses. “For the Morozovs. The real ones.”
