Page 18 of Ruthless Bonds

Gavriil and I shared a look, one that said he would take care of it. I didn’t doubt my sister’s ability to handle her business. Her innocent appearance hid a ruthless and cunning nature. But the difference between us was she used a fake bloody ear to teach a lesson, while I would have cut his right off.

“OK, Bela. No meddling.”

We spent another ten minutes with my sister before leaving the club. Gavriil and I got into the back of an armored SUV. A guard sat up front with my driver. The only other security was four guards on motorcycles, two in the front of the SUV and two in the rear.

“I spoke with your father.” Gavriil exhaled, and I could tell this was going to put me in a foul mood.

“And what did the great Viktor Zokrov have to say?”

“If you don’t find a wife by the end of the month, he will pick one for you.”

Of course. That seemed to be all my father cared about. Securing our bloodline by ensuring I produced an heir. He’d been hounding me for months. It was no surprise he’d turned to Gavriil to get to me.

I had no ambitions to get married. A wife was the last thing I needed or wanted. But my father was insistent, and I’d learned long ago to pick my battles.

“He said that with Constantine in a coma, now was the time. We shouldn’t be showing any weakness.”

“My brother being in a coma is not a sign of weakness.” I scoffed.

“You know I don’t agree with most of anything your father says. But he’s right about this. Constantine may never wake up. Without him or an heir to succeedyou, our enemies may use this time to strike. An heir will secure your name. Your bloodline. Your future.”

Constantine had been in a coma for five months after an assassination attempt. There were a lot of unanswered questions surrounding what had happened. For one, he’d been awake in the hospital after the attack, but the next morning, he was in a coma. Someone had gotten to him when they realized the bullet hadn’t killed him. We were still trying to figure out how—his room had been guarded at the hospital. Now he was under twenty-four-hour protection and care at my estate.

“Your father is coming here in a few weeks to ensure you comply. He mentioned Katia’s name more than once. You know he’s always wanted you to marry her to finally join the Zokrovs and Ivanovs into one big family.”

Anger pulsed through me, but I remained emotionless on the surface. Emotions were a weakness that your enemies could use to control you. Now that I was the Pakhan, I was in charge, and nobody could control me. Not even my father. I would not be forced into a marriage, especially with someone like Katia. I would do what was necessary to protect my kingdom and legacy, but I would do it my way.

“There’s more.” Gavriil cleared his throat and I turned to face him. “Your mother is coming with him.”

I straightened my back, clenching my fists at my side. My mother was a troubled woman with questionable loyalty. My father loved her though and had shown her mercy for her numerous indiscretions. I was certain she had tried to have him killed, something my father had beaten me ruthlessly for after I’d accusedher. I could never prove it. But I knew it deep in my bones.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since I’d gone to Russia seven years ago. She’d convinced my father to marry Bela off to one of his rivals.

It hadn’t ended well for anyone involved.

It was something I could never discern. How could a mother be so indifferent to the well-being of her own children?

“We should think about furthering our alliance with the Italians in Canada if the expansion goes well,” I said, changing the direction of the conversation. “Get me a list of candidates from the Barone family first. I want to know all my options.”

I liked to be one step ahead. Always. I was never without a plan A, B, and C. If I was to take a wife, forge an alliance, that meant more power. More control.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

*** ***

The room grew quiet as Gavriil and I entered the isolated chamber at my estate. Every man stood as I walked to the front of the table, nodding their head in respect. Each Vor in the room was a loyal member of my inner circle. They’d earned their place through blood, sweat, and relentless devotion.

They were my most trusted captains and oversaw all branches of my business dealings. Some of their families had served under my father, like Roman Lomanovich, whose expertise in extortion was legendary. Others had clawed their way up from nothing, proving themselves to me through sheer brutality and cunning.

Cheslav Zatori was one of the latter. He’drevolutionized our tech operations and was responsible for keeping our money-laundering schemes invisible to prying eyes. He’d proven time and time again to be loyal and I’d never had a reason to question that.

But I didn’t miss the way his hands shook as he thumbed through a manila folder. Or the bead of sweat on his brow he tried to wipe away when I passed him.

He would not have good news for me then.

We spent the first half of the meeting discussing operations, potential threats and territory disputes. There was always money to be made, and a threat around every corner. Leonis, the pit bull who kept our underground casinos, gambling rings, and fighting circuits in check, groaned about some O’Hanlon kid who didn’t want to pay his debts.

“Ten grand? We don’t start wars over pocket change, Leonis. You want to send a message? Fine. Break his legs. Set his car on fire. Cut off his fingers.” I leaned forward, glaring at him. “But I don’t want O’Hanlon at my door declaring war because you couldn’t handle this kid quietly. Got it?”

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