That wasn’t precision. That was chaos. Lust. Need.
A man like Leo would never forgive that kind of weakness.
“I don’t think anyone would listen to me,” I say finally. “Being praised by you makes our brothers feel like they were praised by our father. You’re a patriarch, but I’m just a boy. If I ever tried to give them an order, even Nikolai would roll his eyes and tell me to shut up.”
Leo leans back in his chair. “Respect isn’t inherited. It’s earned. You’ll earn it the same way I did. By acting when others hesitate, by doing what has to be done.”
He tilts his head, watching me. “The next pakhan doesn’t have to be my clone, Dmitry. Our father was brutal. I learned from him. You’ll learn from me.”
Lena, who’s been silent until now, sets down her glass. “I see what Leo means,” she says softly. “You’re sharp. Collected. But you’re still in college. You deserve a few more years before carrying that kind of weight.”
Leo smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The world doesn’t wait until you’re ready.”
The three of us fall quiet. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator and the baby monitor crackling in the background.
Lena cuts a small piece of bread, her hands delicate but steady. She looks at Leo with something that’s half respect, half resentment. He looks back with the same. The tension between them has softened over the years, but it’s still there—an old wound that never quite healed.
I take another bite of food, the taste dulled by thought.
Leo’s faith in me should make me feel invincible.
Instead, it feels like a chain around my neck.
I want to be the man he sees, the strategist, the heir apparent, the quiet power behind the numbers. But part of me knows I’m already slipping.
Because right now, all I can think about is Callista Vale. The softness of her breathing as she slept against me. The warmth that seeped through my skin when I held her. The way she made my pulse stutter and my logic falter.
I’ve spent years building walls to keep feelings out. But I’m not the same anymore. Something changed last night.
Leo’s still talking, something about expansion, new fronts, allies in Las Vegas. I nod when I’m supposed to, but my mind is elsewhere.
I wonder if I’m already letting him down. If the empire he’s building for me will crumble because of a woman who makes me act irrationally.
Lena slides a small plate toward me, breaking my spiral. “Eat,” she says softly. “Whatever your brother’s planning, you’ll need your strength.”
I meet her eyes and nod.
Leo rises first, glass in hand. “Get some sleep,” he says, and turns toward the hall.
When the sound of his footsteps fades, Lena gives me a small, almost knowing smile. “You’re thinking too much again.”
“Always,” I murmur.
As she clears the plates, I sit there in the kitchen, surrounded by the smell of food and faint echoes of family, wondering what kind of man I’m becoming.
Am I the heir Leo wants, or the sinner Callista is slowly creating?
NINE
Callista
The Kappa Houseballroom hums with life. Strings of fairy lights hang from the ceiling, their soft gold glow reflecting off the glass cases arranged along the walls. The air smells like perfume, champagne, and ambition.
It is not a grand event, but it feels elegant enough. Rows of chairs face the small stage. The fraternity boys from Delta Sigma are scattered through the audience, laughing too loudly and waving their paddles in mock seriousness as bids fly back and forth.
On stage, Erin, one of the juniors, hypes up the current item, a vintage Gucci bag someone’s mother donated.
“Come on, people,” she calls, grinning. “This beauty retailed for two thousand. Don’t tell me the men of Delta Sigma cannot break a sweat for a good cause.”
