Page 1 of Trapping His Darling

CHAPTER ONE

Viktor, Russia

“How could you let this happen?”my father seethed. “We are now on the brink of war, and for what? A piece of fucking pussy?”

“Iallowednothing to happen,” the lead soldier countered, keeping his tone flat and respectful, despite the tension heavy in the room. “Alexie has always done what Alexie wanted.”

“Why didn’t one of you come to me!” my father roared at the group of men, these so-called leaders of our little kingdom. “I could have nipped it in the bud. Your inaction is just as much at fault as my idiot son is for sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.”

I smirked, relishing the chaos unfurling before my eyes. My brother’s misstep was literally unraveling an entire empire. My father despised being accused of incompetence, and Alexie had indeed made a colossal blunder by putting him, and our family, in this position.

Tensions had been mounting ever since Alexie impregnated the beautiful wife of a mafia don. The Italians were fuming,and our once-solid connections were fraying. The Don was threatening to dissolve a long-standing treaty, if we didn’t produce Alexie for him to execute immediately. It was only his long-time friendship with my father that kept the alliance on this knife’s edge.

“Get out!” my father thundered. “Get out of my sight!”

As the men quickly and quietly filed out, my father paced back and forth, his anger unabated.

“What would you have done differently?” Father inquired of Roger.

“You didn’t have a choice. You either exiled or eliminated him,” he replied.

“They still desire his demise, regardless. I’ve only worsened the situation,” my father grumbled, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

Although I yearned to laugh at the absurdity of it all, the gravity of the situation restrained me. Roger, perceptive as ever, detected the amusement I was trying to conceal.

He swung his cane toward my head, something that used to make me recoil, but those days were now over. I grabbed the cane before it could strike and held it, a glare in my eyes. I once carried the family shame and played the part of whipping boy, as I had not respected myself enough to care, but no longer.

Roger’s eyes bulged and he fumbled, trying to assert his dominance on me. “Insolent boy!” he spat. “You think you can act out?”

I had endured abuse from this family for years. No more.

“Maybe youallshould think about the consequences of your actions now for when I do come into power later,” I warned, wrenching the cane from my godfather with an impassive facade. “After all, I am the only legitimate heir still standing.” I made a show of looking around the room, as if Alexie would be with us. “Yes?”

“This banishment is only temporary–”

“Not likely,” I interrupted, leisurely twirling the cane like I did when training with my combat staff. “The Don would be perceived as weak, if the man who made him a cuckold came back here and freely walked the streets.”

At the reminder of Alexie’s betrayal, my father sighed. “Viktor is right. Peace has reigned for far too long, and the days of infighting are a distant memory. I aim to keep it that way.”

Roger moved forward. “But Alexie–”

“Is no longer an option,” I interjected firmly. “He threw away his birthright for a woman. You and Alexie need to accept this.”

“Sukin syn,” Roger growled at me. “Itwasyou.”

Rage coursed through my veins, but I concealed it with practiced precision. I had a reputation for maintaining a cool demeanor, unlike my impulsive brother. But Roger was pissing me off. He’d always favored Alexie.

I glared at him. He was right. I was the one who anonymously slipped a note to the Don about his wife’s infidelity. So what? It’s not like my godfather could prove it.

“What was me?” I played off. “The one who slept with Don Ricci’s wife?” I tsked. “No, not me,” I murmured darkly, depositing my godfather’s cane in the office trash can like it was an umbrella stand. “I assure you, thatwasmy brother.”

I could practically hear Roger’s teeth grinding.

My heart smiled even if my lips did not.

“The Italians hunger for Alexie’s demise,” my father continued. “My eldest son should be grateful I’ve foiled their attempts on his life, while he sought refuge in America.” My father downed his vodka with a confident flourish. “All this for a slut,” he muttered. “He should have known better. His arrogance got the best of him.”

A feeling of vindication bloomed. Father finally saw Alexie for who he really was; impulsive, cocky, conniving, and notcapable of leading this family in a productive way. Unlike him, I always calculated my moves, contemplating the repercussions they might unleash on my future. It was the very reason I considered myself superior to him.

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