She gives me a sidelong glance. "I create problems no one else can solve."
I can't help but laugh, drawing attention from nearby guests. "I believe that."
"Kira!" A female voice cuts through the ambient chatter. A striking young woman with copper-red hair approaches, dressedin black leather pants and a sheer top that defies the formal dress code. "You're glowing with newfound domesticity. It's disturbing."
"Zoya," Kira acknowledges with what appears to be genuine warmth. "Rafa, this is my youngest sister."
Zoya looks me up and down with blatant appraisal. "So you're the hacker who's supposed to tame our Kira. Good luck with that."
"Taming isn't on my agenda," I reply.
"Smart man." She smirks. "Though sad for you. Kira needs someone who can match her... appetites."
"Zoya," Kira warns.
"What? I'm being supportive of your arranged marriage to a stranger." She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Totally normal, healthy family dynamics here."
Before Kira can respond, a young man appears at Zoya's side, slinging an arm around her shoulders. He has tousled blonde hair and a smile that suggests perpetual amusement at a joke no one else gets.
"You must be the sacrificial lamb," he says to me, extending his free hand. "Misha Petrov. The disappointment of the family."
"He's not a disappointment," Kira corrects automatically. "He's just selectively competent."
"I choose when to care," Misha agrees cheerfully. "Keeps people guessing."
I shake his hand, noting the surprising strength in his grip despite his casual demeanor. "Rafa Rosso."
"BitVenom," he replies, lowering his voice. "I know. I've studied your work—that Indonesian bank hack last year? Pure artistry."
I keep my expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course not," he winks. "Just like my sister has no idea what NyxBinary means."
Kira's fingers tighten around her champagne flute. "Misha."
"What? We're family now, aren't we?" He gestures between us. "No secrets among family. Isn't that what Father always says before he starts lying?"
The casual way he references Vadim's duplicity surprises me. The Petrov siblings appear to be far less reverent of their patriarch than their appearances would suggest.
"Dinner is about to be served," Nicolai announces, appearing beside us with silent efficiency. "Father expects you both at the head table."
As we follow him, I lean close to Kira. "Your siblings are... unexpected."
"Disappointed?" she asks.
"Intrigued," I correct. "They seem to share your enthusiasm for family loyalty."
A ghost of a smile crosses her lips. "We Petrovs are united in our disunity."
"Something we have in common, then."
She glances at me sharply. "You and your brother seem close."
"Proximity isn't closeness," I reply. "Vito sees me as an asset, not a brother. A useful tool in his organization."
"Like my father sees me," she murmurs, so quietly I almost miss it.
This moment of vulnerability, small as it is, shifts something between us—a recognition of shared circumstance, of parallel cages.
