Page 10 of Merciless Union
Elena lets out a huff. “Arina Smirnoff? God, she’s so basic. We met at the funeral. Brother, you can do so much better.”
My spine stiffens as I sit up straighter. “Maybe, before passing judgment, dear sister, you let me say more.”
She sniffs, crossing her arms like she’s challenging me.
“I’m marrying Miss Smirnoff because her father, George, was a close ally of Father’s. He’ll make a good ally. And he can get more men on my side because, right now, things are shifting, and a lot of men are going to come forth and try to seize Father’s throne.”
Kira squeaks. “They won’t try to kill us, will they?”
I smile at her. “I’ll make sure that never happens.”
“It’s a smart play,” Mother says with a wicked smirk. “Your father would be proud.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Elena rolls her eyes. “Still makes her basic. How old is she anyway?”
“Why does that matter?”
Elena looks at me like I’m an idiot. Granted, she looks at everybody like that. “Because she looked like a little girl playing dress-up.”
My mother nods in agreement. “I did think she could have been a bit more put together.”
I sigh. “Miss Smirnoff dresses just fine. She’s twenty, so not a little girl. Most women are married by her age in the mafia.”
Elena flinches. I know I hit a nerve with her. She’s still unmarried at twenty-five, though not for lack of suitors. Our father just never wanted to let her go.
“She’s younger than me,” Elena states. “It’s weird to have your older brother marry someone younger than you.”
“It’s just the way it is,” I say. “Now, if you’re done back-talking me …”
She gets the hint and stays quiet, though not without one final eye roll.
Kira leans forward and grabs my hand. “What does this marriage mean for our family? Will you move out?”
I pat her hand. “No. Miss Smirnoff will move in with us. Well, she’ll move into my penthouse with me. We’ll still see each other all the time. When you and Elena marry, you’ll move in with your husbands, too.”
Her face drops. “And Alexei?”
“Alexei should really think about getting his own place for how annoying you all are,” my brother says, stumbling into the living room.
We all look up at him.
His clothes are wrinkled, his hair is a mess, and his breath smells strongly of alcohol, even from this distance.
“Alexei, where have you been?” Mother demands.
He shrugs, slumping onto the couch next to Elena, who wrinkles her nose and scoots away from him.
“He’s drunk,” I growl. I look him over. “What trouble did you get into this time?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. “I just drank some of my sorrows away. Can’t a man have a drink for his dead father?”
I glare at him. “Not when it comes to you. The last time you went out and got drunk, I had to pay back the damages you caused to that art gallery. You destroyed thousands of dollars worth of art. If it weren’t for my money, you would have ended up in jail.”
“We own like half the police,” he mumbles, clearly still drunk. “Dad never would have left me in a cell.”
“Dad tried to until I offered to pay!” I shout, making him jerk back. Even my mother is startled, which is unusual for her.
