But I’m glad to see him cracking a joke again, even if it’s a bitter one.
“Come on, Raf, admit it. That was half the reason you wanted Genevieve so badly in the first place,” I tease back.
Raf and Sandro snort in stereo, crossing their arms over their chests at the same time, both effortlessly in sync.
“Maybe at the start,” Raf acknowledges, “but that doesn’t mean I’m any less driven to make those bastards who killed her pay.”
I smirk and pour myself a mug of black coffee before settling at the table. “Good, because we need to discuss what happened yesterday and where we go from here.”
“Well, clearly there’s dissent in what’s left of Pyotr’s clan,” Gio observes dryly. “Nice moves, by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”
I know he’s subtly poking at how quickly I inserted myself between Anika and danger, but I’m not rising to the bait.
In a house full of brothers, I know when to let things slide, and if I get worked up about his teasing over my protective instincts, they’ll never let it go.
“Yeah, enough dissent that they drew blood at a formal event. It was a good call to invite them. I’d say the odds of the Russians becoming a threat are below zero at this point. If they can’t exist in each other’s presence without turning on one another, they won’t find a leader capable of uniting them again,” Sandro says.
“Maybe it’s not entirely crazy to think you could fill that void, Miko,” Gio says, looking at me pointedly.
“Not this again,” I grouse. “They would never accept me asPakhan—even if we could use their numbers. I’m Italian—or at least, I work for the Family—not to mention, I’m responsible for putting them in their tumultuous situation.”
“True,” Gio agrees, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “But at this point, it might be their most viable option if the Russians continue infighting like they are—otherwise the Bratva will end up eating itself from the inside out.”
Sandro chuckles, shaking his head. “Pakhan Miko. I can just see it now.”
“Maybe,” Raf agrees, his eyes gleaming with sharp intellect. “But I heard an interesting rumor during the cocktail hour that might change all that.”
“What’s that?” I ask, intrigued.
“Well, supposedly, there’s some long-lost Novikov heir. Pyotr’s captains sounded like they would unite behind him—if anyone knew where to find him.” Raf takes a sip of his coffee, keepinghis mug clasped between his hands as he lowers it back to the table.
“It was just a rumor,” Sandro counters, “and if no one can find this heir—which hasn’t happened in the time since it’s gone public—I doubt the Russians will be able to recover.”
Raf shrugs, but something in the light behind his eyes tells me this is a detail we shouldn’t ignore.
And if I trust any of my brothers when it comes to strategic maneuvers, it’s Raf. “It might not hurt to look into it,” he says casually. “And kill the heir if he exists, before he can unite them.”
I nod, a faint sense of foreboding flickering to life in my gut that warns me not to ignore this.
But before I can give the directive to put my younger brothers on the trail of this missing heir, something catches my attention from the corner of my eye.
Through the window of the breakfast room, I spot two figures strolling along the gravel pathway of the garden.
My heart skips a beat to see Anika walking freely about the grounds, her posture relaxed as she pushes the wheelchair of a white-haired, wizened old woman.
Anika’s smiling, the expression striking on her beautiful face.
I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her happy enough to do so, and it makes me agonizingly curious to know who the old woman is and what they’re talking about.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?” I ask, my voice distracted as I rise from my chair.
And despite my brothers’ protests and shouted questions, I leave without another word, keeping my eyes fixed on the sight outside the window for as long as I can.
16
ANIKA
With hurried steps, I made my way from the main wing of the house across to the mother-in-law suite at the far end of the Novikov mansion.
