Page 32 of Deceitful Promises

“No, she’s not,” Molly says. “She’s a stranger.”

“Are you seriously trying to set me up with your daughter? With the Sokolov princess? With a woman who’s going to bring hellfire down on us?”

Molly’s grin falters. “No, but … she’s not your sister. Maybe in a roundabout way, but not really.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“I don’t know. I should probably start with sorry and go from there?”

I take a moment to realize she’s asking my opinion. “Yeah, that would be a good start.”

Molly sighs, standing up. “First, I’d like to take a shower. Would you take Henry to Priscilla?”

“Sure.”

Once Molly leaves, I carry Henry to his nursery and hand him to the nanny, doing my best not to seem intimidating. I always have to make a conscious effort with the staff. I’ve seen the way they look at me when they don’t think I can see. I’m a big, scary brute to them and many people, but what about Ania?

I find my father in his study, yelling into his phone. “Up the security, then! We will not allow thesecriminalsto bully us.”

He slams the phone down, then leans back, chuckling the way he has, which contains no humor at all. It’s just a way for him to vent his rage. “It looks like these Sokolovs want to pretend they’ve got a heart.”

I wait for him to go on, taking a seat.

“They’ve beaten the three lodge burners bloody. They overstepped the mark, it seems.”

“They beat their own men bloody,” I muse, “for putting Ania’s life in danger?”

“I thought you said they weren’t their men?”

“True, but risking a war … They must’ve been pissed.”

“Family’s family,” Dad sighs, “but it changes nothing. We won’t let these bastards dictate tous.”

I don’t say anything. Dad’s always been the type to rant and vent, but I prefer to wait and see whenever possible. Then, when I act, I try to make it certain.

“Well?” Dad finally snaps. “What should we do?”

“What’s our objective?”

“To make them back off.”

“Then we should let Ania go,” I say, even if it hurts me and it’s the last thing I want. I must try to be cold and clinical and not let emotion rule me, which is an insane thing for me to have to focus on. I never cared about a damn thing before.

“Molly needs her daughter, and that poor girl grew up aroundcriminals.”

I ponder his words, thinking about the fact the Sokolov brothers beat up the men who risked Ania’s life. In a fucked-up way, that puts them slightly closer to my good books.

“I suppose Molly didn’t seemthrilledwith her being here,” Dad mutters. “The last thing we need is a problem with the Bratva brothers. How did they even find you?”

“My best guess is that they either tracked my vehicle or had surveillance I wasn’t aware of.”

“Sloppy, son.”

I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to tell him I warned him something like this might happen. The plan was never foolproof. I asked for more resources, but he was so concerned with risking the business from a PR angle, so he told me to go lone wolf.

“I know,” he goes on. “We needed more preparation. You needed more manpower.”

“We can’t spend time dwelling on the past,” I tell him.

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