Lorenzo tilts his head at me in a silent warning. I know what he’s saying. If the cartels get involved, it’ll be a bloodbath for the entire city, not just the underground families.
“I thank you for your offer, gentlemen, but I don’t think it’ll get that far. I intend to make peace with the Bratva. I want no more situations like my brother’s wedding attack. I refuse to lose any of my men over this misunderstanding,” I state calmly. I can’t let anyone see the anxiety swirling in me. I’ve spent years masking my emotions to the point where even my family doesn’t think I have any.
“What will you do?” Lorenzo demands.
“I’ll figure something out,” I say carefully, not wanting to let on my lack of a plan. If Viktor didn’t even show up to this mediated peace discussion, a part of me worries that he has no interest in peace.
I look around the room, and my eyes settle on two of the Irishmen discussing an upcoming marriage alliance.
The thought curls my stomach. I’ve never understood marriage. While my brothers seem happy with their wives, the thought churns my stomach. Having someone invade my personal space, someone constantly around, sounds like hell.
But it seems to work for the Irish, so maybe there’s some substance to it.
“Stop this war by any means necessary. Violence is not the answer this time,” Lorenzo stresses. He’s almost as old as Malachy, so I know this comes from experience.
As the meeting goes on, Lorenzo’s words echo in my mind.
‘Stop this war by any means necessary.’
How far am I willing to go for peace? To protect my people?
There isn’t a line I won’t cross. No matter the sacrifice.
Chapter 1
Katerina
I watch Vova play with his catnip fish and can’t help but be envious of my grey tabby.
He’s so free, even though he’s confined to this room with me. He couldn’t care less that this luxurious room is merely a gilded cage, trapping us in this lavish nightmare.
I’d give anything to be free.
From the outside, Katerina Sokolov lives a privileged life. Taught by the best private tutors, clothed in designer, fed by accomplished chefs, wealth beyond measure…
But it’s all just a farce. This life is built from dirty money accrued from horrific deeds. I know who my father is, I know what he does.
I know what he’s done.
I hate the man. Loathe him.
And one day, I will watch Viktor Sokolov die at my own hands.
Not because of the nefarious things he does outside the walls of this haunted mansion, but for the things he’s done inside of them.
I’m just relieved he got rid of ???? before she could see how much worse he’s gotten.
He wasn’t bad when Pyotr, Petya to me, was around. My father respected my brother too much to show his darker side around him. But everything worsened when he moved out. With him being twelve years older than me, he was gone by the time I was six.
That’s when things shifted.
He started getting angry. At first it was a tight grip on my arm or seething words. But soon the threats stopped being empty.
???? was on the receiving end. She endured the worst for as long as she could. Until one day when I was ten, she couldn’t take it anymore.
I don’t blame her. I became his target when she was gone. I didn’t realize how much she was taking. How much she was shielding me from.
It’s just been him and me in this haunted mansion ever since. The ghost of her still roams these halls in the touches of her left behind, the silver and crystals, the portraits on the walls, the décor that she picked out. But now, it’s accompanied by the gaudy and tacky things he added later on.
