“He has two daughters. I don’t know the unmarried one's name. Look into the family for me, will you? I’d rather not have any nasty surprises,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.“Did Ruslan reach out to you?”
“Yes. Tau is in Moscow. I’ll look into the Kozlovs before I get busy,” he said, the excitement in his voice unmistakable—the certain brightness he got at the prospect of murder and mayhem.
“Try not to get stabbed,” I drawled, and hung up before he could reply.
My knife skills were far superior to his. He had the scars to prove it.
My mind lingered on the girl for a moment. Pale blue gown. Eyes that had no business being that alive in a photograph. Then I opened a new note on my phone and began to structure the terms of a prenuptial agreement. It would need to be drafted, signed and notarised. It needed to be airtight against every outcome I could imagine.
I considered the possibilities methodically. How sentiment crept in. How women made themselves necessary before you noticed. How a man went soft inside his own house without realising it was happening.
Women had one use. I preferred them silent before, during and after.
A wife.
The thought made me want to hit something.
“Take me to the pit,” I told Tikhon.
The city moved past the windows, grey and quiet and entirely mine.
I had no intention of going the way of my father.
Chapter 2
Iskra
When my mother cornered me in my bedroom, I wasn’t worried.
Then my father stepped in behind her.
I sat on the bed and bowed my head—just enough. Submissive enough not to give him a reason.
“We’ve just had a wonderful marriage offer,” Mama said, her smile too wide, too bright.“From the largest house in Chernograd.”
My head snapped up. My heart hit my ribs once, hard.
It couldn’t be.
My eyes flew to my father.
He crossed his arms and scowled, which told me everything. He wasn’t here to soften this. He was here to make sure I didn’t fight it.
I had wanted out of Chernograd for as long as I could remember. Away from the organisation my father worked in, away from the weight of what that name meant in this city. When he was relieved of his duties, I had thought it might bring some peace to our home.
It was quite the opposite. Everyone moved carefully now, including Ruslan. Eggshells underfoot in every room. My brother remained the apple of my parents’eyes, untouched by the tension that had settled into the walls of this house like damp.
“The Dragunovs,” my father said, and the pride in his voice made me lower my gaze.
“The new Pakhan has chosen you, Iskra,” Mama said, her voice pitching high.
I laid my trembling hands in my lap and said nothing.
“Explain it to her, Vera. Her fancy modern thinking has no place in the Bratva.” Papa’s voice sharpened.“She must respect her husband.” A pause.“Respect the Bratva.”
My mother took my hands and crouched before me. Up close her eyes were a mixture of things that didn’t belong together—sorrow and concern and something that looked almost like relief. She squeezed my hands until they ached.
“My darling girl. You will never want for anything. Never struggle,” she said.
