Page 3 of Merciless Union
He scoffs. “You don’t think I do? You guys don’t need me in there. I’ll just fucking mess it up like I do everything else.” He gives me another disappointed look, then walks away.
I could try dragging him into the reception, but that wouldn’t be a good look either.
So, instead, I straighten my shoulders, fix my tie, and head off into the reception. I need to be present. Alexei can be the fuckup all he wants, but I need to do my duty for my family.
I rejoin my family as our guests offer condolences. The reception hall is decked out in the finest furnishings, fanciest foods, and most elegant décor imaginable. My mother went all out planning everything. Nothing but the best for my father, even in death.
Kira takes my hand again, and I give it another squeeze.
“So sorry for your loss,” one of my father’s men says as he approaches—I guess I’ll have to start thinking of them as my men. It’ll be an adjustment. This one is named Stepan Pasternack. He laundered money for the bratva, using his bar, casino, and strip club as lucrative businesses to hide the income from our drug shipments.
A small, hairy little man, Stepan has a glint in his eye I dislike as I shake his hand.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Stepan’s eyes glide over to Kira. “I’ve never seen you out of your castle before.”
Kira doesn’t reply, ducking her head instead. While Elena chooses to be reserved to retain her ice princess status, Kira is genuinely shy. It’s another reason why I feel the need to protect her.
“Our father preferred her safe,” I cut in. “Nowhere safer than at home. I’m sure you can understand that, having daughters of your own.”
Stepan chuckles, making the skin crawl on the back of my neck. “Oh, I do. I hope you enjoy your time out of your castle, Princess.” His eyes slide over to Elena, who’s giving him a look of disgust. “Ah, the Ice Princess herself.” He extends his hand to her. Elena looks down at it as if his hand is covered in poison.
“No,” she says simply, turning her nose up to him.
Stepan’s face falls before he turns his smile on my mother. “Vasilisa, my condolences.”
She smiles tightly. “Thank you.”
“And Maxim,” he says, turning back to me. “I hope you have a long and eventful reign.”
I nod, then watch as he walks away. This job is going to be tougher than I thought.
The next guest to approach is George Smirnoff. Following him is the beautiful woman from earlier—the one with the red hair.
“Maxim, you know I’m here for you if you need anything,” George says, shaking my hand. Even at my father’s funeral, he’s already trying to get in good with me. I don’t mind. At least I know I can trust George. I can’t speak the same for a lot of the men here.
“Of course.” I pat his shoulder. “I appreciate that.”
George gestures for the woman to step forward. “This is my daughter, Arina.”
I offer her my hand, and she gently takes it. The handshake only lasts a second, but I can still feel her hand in mine long after it’s gone.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Petrov,” she says in a sweet, twinkling voice.
I nod, keeping my face composed in a cool manner.
“Keep in mind what I said,” George comments before he guides his daughter away.
Kira squeezes my hand. “She was pretty,” she whispers.
“Where are you going with that comment?” I murmur out of the corner of my mouth.
She shrugs. “Just commentating.”
“Maxim,” a deep voice says as Nikolay Volkov approaches and shakes my hand. “Terrible loss. Your father will be missed.”
“Thanks, Nik,” I say dryly. Nikolay, or as I call him, Nik, has been my best friend ever since we were children. He’s the only one here I can completely trust. I also know he hated my father just as much as I did.
