Page 7 of No Promises, No Lies

Niko’s expression doesn’t change. He always looks like he’s just pissed off at the world. His blue eyes watch me finish making my shake.

There’s no love lost between my brother and I. He’s never missed a moment to remind me how much I don’t belong here. How I’m not a Kostalov. That my mother was just a gold-digging whore wholiedto get what she wanted out of my father.

He can deny me all he wants, but the resemblance is striking.Both of us favor our father in looks. Same sandy blonde hair and steel-blue eyes. And even though my hair is a shade darker than his, there’s no mistaking Kostalov-blue-eyes.

Can’t say that I blame him, seeing as how our father was married to Niko’s mother when he fatheredme.Niko’s hated me since the day I was born. Though I hardly see how that’s my fault. It’s not like I had a say in the matter.

It didn’t help that we were raised separately. My mother’s wish. She petitioned to keep me,a delicate daughter,as far from this world as she could. And even though he never left his wife for her, my fatheradoredmy mother and so he granted her wish.

My mother whisked me away far from the Bratva, far from Boston, and threw me into figure skating to appease my father. Niko made being here so unbearable that I hardly ever visited. This was the longest I’d been home in years.

“Since when do you like hockey?” Niko’s still staring at the jersey, his upper lip curled in distaste.

“I don’t.” I shift uneasily, playing with the long sleeves, uncomfortable under his gaze. “We have to wear them at the Chill Zone.”

He looks at me like I have five heads. “I don’t get why you want to work there. You have black cards for Christ’s sakes!”

So I can run away from here.

I take a long drink of my shake, mumbling something about it keeping me busy in between training sessions. Eyeing my brother warily as I do. Ifanyonesuspects what I’m up to, it’s game over.

An uncomfortable silence follows before Niko speaks again. “Father called me.”

I flinch at the mention of the F-word. I recover quickly and hope Niko didn’t notice.

His eyes narrow, telling me he did, and continues, “He wants a meeting. Both of us.”

I cough, to hide my yelp of surprise. Aside from the required Sunday dinners where we sit in uncomfortable silence anddiscuss little other than my training and the weather, I rarely see my father, let alonetalkto him.

“What for?”

“To discuss yourfuture in this family.” He frowns, his words dripping with disapproval.

Recovering from my initial reaction, I roll my eyes. “If this is another one of your attempts to get rid of me?—”

“I didn’t call it.” Niko’s jaw tightens and I freeze.

“When?” I carefully place my drink down on the counter, noticing my hand shaking.

“Now.”

5

THE ARRANGEMENT

RORY

Indeed, Niko wasn’t playing another one of his cruel tricks…Adrik Kostalov is, in fact, waiting for us in his study.The Russian Kingpin doesn’t even bother looking up from his desk at our arrival.

Niko holds the door open for me, and I shoot him a scathing look as I pass. He returns it with a glare of his own.

And then we wait.

Neither of us bold enough to interrupt the Russian Pakhan’s work.

Dark wood walls surround us. The scent of leather and cigars fills my nose. I’ve only been in this room once, my very first day back in Boston.

I glance longingly up at the beautifully bound leather books that fill the wall behind the grand mahogany desk.

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