Page 45 of Heritage of Fire

Her eyes pierce the distance between them with a fiery intensity. “Well, I look forward to getting to know you, Mr. Balakin.” She turns to me. “I’m going to go change.”

She bolts up the stairs, peering down at me from the top before she frowns and walks off.

“Father, as you know, we were practically run off the road. Allow me to change and I will have a drink with you.”

“Nyet, Nikolai. I want a meeting with you and Luka. Now. The pakhan has already agreed.” He tilts his head toward Luka’s office.

I nod. Vowing not to show how irritated I am, I stride past him to the office.

Luka’s office here is larger than his one back in New York. The ample space mimics a conference room of sorts. Three big-screen TVs hang on the wall, each broadcasting a different Russian news station, and a small bar cart is located in the corner.

Luka is already seated at the large center table with paperwork in front of him, and a glass tumbler of clear liquor in his hand. He stands, eyes narrowing on me, most likely searching for injury.

“Glad you are well, Nikolai. Viktor, it’s good to see you.” He extends a hand to my father, who takes it and offers a firm shake.

“Da. I was hoping to have a conversation about this sham of a marriage.” My father helps himself to a seat at the table.

I move by Luka’s side while he frowns at my father. Then, a chuckle rolls out the pakhan, and he slaps my shoulder, making me jump. Casual Luka does not bode well for this conversation.

“It’s no sham, Viktor. Nikolai and Luna are legally bound. In addition, we signed a marriage contract.” He sits, picks up his glass again, and takes a small sip. I follow suit, scooting close. Hoping to try to catch a peek at the papers he has in front of him.

“I understand, Luka, but the Cosa Nostra? Your father would be ashamed.”

Luka stiffens but says nothing.

“Has the marriage even been consummated yet? There is time for an annulment.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle when he mentions consummation, like it’s some sort of duty to prove a marriage. Except, in his generation, itwas. It’s archaic, but more common in Mafia circles than you’d think.

I glare at my father, trying hard not to take this personally. He never sought companionship after my mother, and Luka’s father never pushed him to get remarried. That didn’t stop him from seeking pleasure with women, but relationships,love—those he swore off. What is it they say about apples and how far they fall?

“It’s my honor to serve the Bratva, father. I’m sure you can understand.” I’ve told him this before. This marriage is for the Bratva, for my brothers, for the Morozov family legacy.

“Da, I can,” he says, then shifts his focus back to Luka. “But Vladamir would know better than to get in bed with the Cosa Nostra.” His voice is agitated, growing louder. “You’ve allowed the Cosa Nostra to whore out their mafia princess to gain access toyourfather’s legacy.”

“Hey!” I snap. Luka taps his fingers on the table. My father continues.

“Or maybe it’s the other way around.Youare being sold out, Nikolai. What aboutourfamily line and legacy? This is unacceptable.”

Luka stands suddenly, pulls his gun, and aims for my father—right between his raging eyes.

My blood runs cold.

I freeze, staring at Luka’s face. He’s calm, stoic even, but I know him. He’s hanging on by a thread.

“The only reason there isn’t a bullet in your head for raising your voice at me is because of who you are to Nikolai, and who youwereto my father. Do not mistake my silence for acceptance. I amnotmy father. The legacy I’m building is formyfuture family.

“Nikolai was not forced, nor would he ever be forced to continue in this marriage. I would break the contract and go to war for him, but he sees the bigger picture—what the alliance offers, what it iscurrentlyoffering.” Luka’s gaze darts to the paperwork on the table, then back to my father, who hangs his head.

“I apologize, Pakhan. Forgive my outburst. I only want what is best for Nikolai.”

I snort.Surehe does. It’s bull, but I let it slide, more curious about this offering from Salvatore Buscetta. “What did you get from the Cosa Nostra?” I ask.

Luka lowers his weapon, not taking his gaze off my father. I can tell the inferno is burning deep, like it does whenever anyone mentions his father.

Leaving his weapon on the table, he shuffles the paperwork, stacking the loose pages into a neat pile. I’m hoping this is more information about Echelon Vanguard. We need to make some headway there. It’s unlike the Bratva to ignore a large group like this, and now that Salvatore has secured our alliance, I doubt he will, either.

“Salvatore Buscetta was able to obtain a list of currently active EV members. The names are powerful and shocking, even for me.” Luka slides the papers to me and lifts his glass once again, but instead of taking a sip, he downs the rest in one swig.

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