“Aunt Irina,” Jade exclaims happily. “Anya has told me tons about you too. You’re gorgeous, no wonder you were a model.”
My aunt laughs happily at the comment. “You’re one to talk. Dmitri couldn’t have picked a more beautiful wife.”
“I’m Nadya,” my cousin pipes up. “Can I hold your baby?”
I have to tuck my lips in to smother a laugh at her blunt question.
“Nayda is Uncle Lev and Aunt Irina’s daughter,” I point out helpfully to Jade before gesturing to the two unintroduced parties. “And these two are my Uncle Mikhail’s sons—Aleksandr and Vik.”
“Wait, you both have kids?” Jade asks, looking between my uncles and their respective families. The question is so abrupt and seemingly random that I look down at her with a dip in my brows.
Irina starts to open her mouth to answer when my sister-in-law stands up, putting Viktor into Matteo’s arms with a swift but gentle push. His eyes widen as he accepts our nephew. Just as startled as Matteo, my lips pop open when I find an unfamiliar anger filling Jade’s fierce blue eyes.
“Which one of you is older?” The cold drop in her voice immediately changes the feeling in the room, and I wonder what’s set her off.
Uncle Lev tilts his head at the inquisition but raises a hand up, arm bent at the elbow. “That would be me.”
“The married one,” Jade says, fists clenching by her sides. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Jade,” Ivan says, eyes sparking with realization. I’m glad he seems to know where she’s going with this, because I’m completely lost. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Aunt Irina says, her voice soft and hesitant.
Jade doesn’t reply because she’s too busy giving Lev the most lethal glare I’ve ever seen on her face. My Uncle Lev has a bad habit of making people angry, but I don’t understand what he could have done to anger Matteo’s sister so quickly. This is the first time they’re meeting for more than a few minutes.
“You just get to do whatever you want, is that it?” she demands. “What makes you so special?”
“Jade,” Ivan repeats, his voice imploring.
“No,” she hisses, looking right back at him. “Why do you have to be bound by tradition whenheisn’t? I told you I would never pity your position because it’s important to your family—and to you. But I’m not going to sit here and say nothing when I find outthat that’s not true. He has a wife, Ivan. Akid. Why should he get to have that when you can’t?”
“Does she think?—”
Dmitri’s voice cuts in over Irina’s. “Krasotka, you misunderstand.”
Her nostrils flare. “Do I? I told you that our sons wouldn’t be forced into this backward ass tradition. You promised me that you agreed but you never thought to mention that your uncles already ignore it?”
Ohhhhhh.
Realization finally hits me as I understand why she’s become so upset. Ivan is a Morozov second son. And as the younger brother to the heir, his life is meant to be dedicated to keeping Dmitri alive. Dmitri and now Jade as well, since they’re married.
A Morozov second son is never supposed to marry, nor father children. All of their focus is meant to be spent on keeping the Pakhan or the Pakhan’s wife alive. He’s meant to die for them, if necessary. A messed-up tradition that I’ve never cared for. But one that my brother Ivan has remained completely devoted to.
Jade has told me herself that she’s attempted to reason with him, now that they’ve become so close. She tried to protest the necessity and the fairness of his position, insisting that he deserves a life of his own. She’s told him time and time again that she would never be able to live with him dying for her. And still, he refuses to budge. Because of honor, tradition, or if you ask me, stubborn pride.
Matteo thinks it’s closer to brainwashing. “When you’re raised to believe you have one true purpose, it’s not easy to shed the weight of those expectations,”he’d said.But I don’t like to think about my father as someone who could brainwash his son. At least not on purpose.
“Is that what this is about?” Uncle Lev asks in disbelief.
Jade steps forward like she’s going to go bite his head off for minimizing the situation, but what he says next stops her in her tracks.
“I’m not a second son.”
Her breath catches. “You’re not?”
Breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I realize that bad memories are about to be brought up. But this is knowledge even Matteo isn’t aware of yet. Unless my father confided in him without me knowing.
Dad clears his throat from the head of the table. “I think this is probably my fault. Irina, will you take Nadya to the kitchen? Thank you.”
