I grew up here, straddling two worlds: the unrelenting brutality of the mafia and the sparkling haze of revelry.
So that vice doesn’t surprise me.
And this isn’t my first time at an event like this, a gathering where killers mingle with their future victims, everyone sipping wine as if their hands aren’t stained red.
The place is truly stunning, tonight, Kat’s touch is everywhere.
Funny how most of them have no idea who I really am, to them, I’m Voron. They don’t know the truth, that my mother was the one who saved their sorry asses in courtrooms, using the law like a weapon to shield their empire. But where her judgments came with words and signatures, mine are written in blood.
I’ve taken her legacy, warped it into something they fear, something violent, something grotesque. A protector when it serves me, an executioner when it doesn’t.
They look at me like they hate everything I represent.
If I weren’t me, I’d hate me just as much, not that I don’t already.
They despise the fact that the Bratva’s best enforcer in this city is a woman, and not any woman, an Arab woman. Some probably think it’s blasphemy.
Fools.
In the center of it all stands Viktor. His black suit is perfect. His eyes are cold, he’s so… different when he’s surrounded by sharks.
They don’t know him like Kat, and I do.
Viktor, the big brother, the one who calls the shots, gets on my nerves when I don’t play by his rules, but deep down, he gives a shit. He’s the same boy who’d laugh to stop making me cry every time I’d fall back then, or run with me until our lungs hurt, or push mean kids away from me.
He’s making his rounds, locking eyes with me as he strides over, shaking hands and exchanging words and orders to make sure everything is going fine tonight, until he’s finally in front of us.
“Kat, seriously?” he says. He gestures around dramatically, pretending to look disappointed, but we all know he’s here to provoke her. “I thought we agreed on something classy. What the fuck is that dress she’s wearing?” He waves a hand toward me like I’m some walking disaster.
Fucker.
“Remember the conversation about cutting balls this morning?” I shoot back, glaring at him as I casually flex my knife from my thigh holster. “Still got my blade on me, you asshole.”
His laughter rings out, and before I can fire back, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a headlock and pressing a kiss to my forehead like I’m five.
“I’m kidding,kroshka. You and Kat look stunning. Don’t stab me, yeah?”
“Depends on what today’s news brings,” Kat fires back with a smile, before linking her arm through mine affectionately and pulling me toward our table, planted in the heart of it all, where everyone else orbits around us like planets around the sun.
I sip my champagne, leaning back in my chair and letting the voices and laughs of the room roll off me. Viktor and Kat, on the other hand, are at it again.
“Seriously, Viktor,” Kat presses, her tone sharp enough to slice glass. “What are you announcing tonight? You’ve been smiling like an idiot all evening. Just say it already!”
Viktor swirls his drink, his smile widening even more when he leans into his chair like he has all the time in the world. “Patience, Kat. You’ll find out when the time’s right.”
Kat groans dramatically, throwing a hand in the air. “I swear, you’re the most infuriating person alive.”
I can’t help but laugh, earning a glare from Kat. “You’re both so tense. It’s almost impressive.”
“Don’t start with me,Visha,” Kat snaps, though her lips twitch like she’s trying not to smile. “Aren’t you curious at all? He’s been acting like he’s about to drop the world’s biggest secret.”
“I honestly don’t care that much,” I say with a shrug. “Plus, it’s entertaining watching you try to squeeze it out of him like that.”
Viktor laughs, pointing his glass at me. “See? Azra gets it.”
Kat narrows her eyes at him, then glances at me with a mischievous grin. “Fine. If you won’t tell me, maybe I’ll stab you and makeVishadig the answer out of you.”
“Wow, betrayal,” I say dryly, swirling my drink. “Why am I suddenly involved in this?”