“We trained with the Russian army at times.” I didn’t need to explain the relationship between the mob and Russian politicians who had control of the armed forces. It was a complex synergy shrouded behind backroom deals.
“You returned to the US when you turned fourteen?”
“I returned for Aralina’s birth. My father wanted his heir but I made him sweat it out for a couple of more years.” Ivan thought he could mold me into his image and control me when he retired. But I wasn’t Roman, his chosen heir, who’d grown up for fifteen years under his rule. When I returned from Russia, I barely had any emotion left for my parents, not even resentment. Resentment burned itself out after the first year. There was no place for emotion when you became a weapon for the mafia. But my sister slowly made me care again.
“But why not Maksim? Is it because he’s illegitimate?”
“Maksim is better suited to running our legal businesses. Ivan understands this. Maksim has…” I smiled derisively. “He…how should I state it? His moral compass is not suited for the bratva. Maksim is a genius when it comes to business strategy and prefers negotiation and civility over violence.” I’d beentrying to get him more involved in the brava. I stared at her empty glass. “You like the wine?”
Lucy touched her cheek. “It’s very good, and it suits the weather and conversation.”
I poured more wine into her goblet, but Lucy stopped me midway. “I need to eat some more…otherwise, you’ll be carrying me to the elevator.”
“I don’t mind.”
She rolled her eyes. “What about Maksim and violence?”
“Don’t get me wrong. Maksim can be violent, especially when it comes to his wife.”
“You mean he beats her?”
I chuckled at this. “No, he wouldn’t harm a hair on her head. It’s to anyone who looks at her wrong.”
Lucy breathed a short laugh. “Sounds like my brother and male cousins toward their wives. There’s a myth about the De Luccis in our family.”
“A myth?”
“Yes, when a De Lucci becomes obsessed, there is no escape.”
My lips curved. “Is that so?”
She glared at me. “Better not use that as ammunition. You breathe wrong in the direction of their women and they won’t care if they start the war we’ve been trying to avoid.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“But…aren’t Maksim and his wife separated?”
I nodded. “Yes. Ophelia wants a divorce, but Maks isn’t giving her one.”
Lucy’s eyes tapered and I knew I was treading into dangerous territory because I wasn’t sure I wanted a divorce either. But I didn’t want to talk about my brother and his troubles in his marriage. Thinking about them made my stomach queasy. I didn’t want to end up like him.
Obsessed with his wife.
I waved my hand with an offhand gesture. “Don’t ask me about it. I don’t stick my nose in their affairs. It’s their business.”
“Really? Seems it might concern you and the interests of the bratva.”
“Prenups take care of most everything. Now, why don’t we finish this tray of food so you can have your apple tart, hmm?”
Her eyes gleamed with pleasure. “You remembered.”
“I’m learning you very well, wife.”
I stirred Lucy to talk about less touchy subjects while I encouraged her to eat. My brother’s marriage was a poor example of the institution, and my past was a minefield that would ruin this moment. This moment, where, for once in my life, I craved the company of a woman. A craving that was not based on sexual appeasement. It was a craving of wanting to be immersed in every complex facet of her.
Fortunately,the herhappened to be my wife.
And she was mine.
