Page 123 of Lethal Legacy

It’s fucking tempting, but I dismiss the thought as soon as I have it. Pain in my ass or not, Nicky is family, to both Yuri and the children. And family is family. Even if I’m technically not part of his, as he’s just made abundantly clear.

“I suppose you’re going to kill me now,” he says dully.

“It would be my right.” I glare at him. “I doubt even Yuri would question it if I did. He’s killed men for far less than the disgusting accusations you just made.”

But my mind is whirling as I speak. There’s something else going on here, something I can’t quite see. Nikolai isn’t smart enough to connect all these dots. Somebody is pulling his strings. If I want to find out who, I need to keep him alive, and at least pacified.

Tread carefully.

“You’re right, Nicky.” I deliberately speak in a calm, even tone. His head jerks up in surprise. “I haven’t involved you in the family business as much as I should have, but only because I thought you were happier running Pillars than wearing a suit in a corporate office. But of course you want to visit the software facility and understand what we’re building there. I can take you up to see it this week, if you like. I hadn’t realized you were interested in tech.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrow. “You’re trying to tell me it’s just a software company you’re running up there?”

“I’m not trying to tell you shit, Nicky.” I allow my impatience to show. “I’m offering to show you, which is far more than you deserve, after accusing me of killing Mikhail.”

“Well, did you?” he asks suspiciously.

“Of course I fucking didn’t. And get up off the ground.” I grasp his arm and pull him to his feet, resisting an extremely strong urge to punch him again. “I offered to bring you with me the night we caught the men who planted that bomb. I even offered you the right of pulling the trigger. It was your choice not to be there, Nikolai. If you had questions, that was the night to ask them. But if you still have doubts, then ask the men of yours who were there that night. They’ll tell you those men admitted what they did readily enough. As for the start-up money for Hale—you might remember that Mikhail and I went to war after Yuri was jailed.”

I almost manage to keep the sarcasm out of my tone, but going by Nikolai’s sulky expression, he got the message clear enough. When Yuri went to prison, Nicky was the same age I’d been when I took a bullet for Mikhail. He knows as well as I do that he could have insisted on going to war with us. Instead, he was too busy trading off Yuri’s fame, hanging out in nightclubs, making friends with the celebrities who frequent his club now.

“We won a lot of bank in those wars. What we didn’t have, we borrowed. Then we worked, Nicky. We worked fucking hard.”

No chance I’m ever mentioning the Swiss lockbox. Not even Yuri knew about that. Nikolai sure as fuck never will.

“As for the children—I never asked to be made their legal guardian. And you of all people should know how hard I’ve worked to get Inger to take responsibility for them. Having her take permanent custody of her children has been my sole goal for two years, and still is. I have an email trail to prove it, should you require it.”

Although as I say those words, an uneasy feeling steals through my chest. I’ve always told myself I want Inger to take the children. I’ve been convinced that is the only workable option. But in a rapid shuffle of mental pictures, I see the three children covered in flour and caramel, dancing with Lucia in the kitchen. I hear Mickey’s grave voice down the phone, asking me to come to the villa because something is wrong. I think of Masha’s little hand in mine, and Ofelia’s reluctant smile.

For the first time, I find myself wondering if it’s truly the right thing to send them back to their mother.

In fact, I realize with some surprise, I don’t fucking like the idea of handing them over to Inger at all.

I tuck those thoughts away and bring my mind back to the task at hand.

“The children are your blood, Nikolai. You can see them anytime you want. They aren’t ‘locked away,’ as you put it. They’re simply safe, as Mikhail would want them to be. And as for their inheritance?” I step closer. “If you ever,” I say, giving him the death stare and lowering my voice to the menacing growl that has made far better men than him piss their pants, “everfucking imply again that I would cheat Mikhail’s children out of the legacy he built for them, I will kill you. I won’t talk to you. I won’t justify myself. You’ll just be dead, Nikolai. That’s it. That’s all.” I stare the littlemudakdown. “Do you understand me?”

He shivers. “Da,”he whispers hoarsely. “Yes,pakhan.I understand. I’m sorry.”

I hold his eyes long enough to let him see the murder in mine. It isn’t hard. It’s all I can do to stop myself putting a bullet between his eyes right now.

Eventually I stand back. “Right.” I nod curtly toward the street. “In a minute, I’m going to rejoin the parade, and you’re going to fuck off. But before you go, I’d like you to answer one question, Nikolai.” He meets my eyes sullenly. “What made you ask these questions now?” I watch him carefully. “Why, after all our family has been through, would you come at me with accusations that could get you killed? What is it, exactly, that you think I’m hiding from you?”

Nicky’s eyes dart this way and that, looking for an escape. Finally, clearly realizing there isn’t one, his eyes meet mine then slide away. “It was something a friend of mine said,” he says sulkily. “Miguel.”

I frown, taken aback. “Perez? The Cádiz keeper?”

“Yes.” He purses his lips. “Miguel has this journalist friend, a guy called Lance Ryder. He’s done a few good pieces on Pillars, given us good exposure. Then last week, Miguel set up a meeting with the Cádiz manager, like I discussed with you.” He gives me a rather defensive look, but since this is old news, I just nod. “Miguel brought Lance to the meeting. He said it was because Lance was doing a profile piece on him. He assured me it was all off the record.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself asking how anyone, even fucking Nicky, could be so dumb as to believe a journalist would listen to a meeting about a potential money laundering operationoff the record.

“But after the meeting, Lance started asking all kinds of questions. About Hale, and especially about the software facility. He said the tech center is a front for something else. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about, and he said you gave me Pillars to keep me busy, so I wouldn’t ask questions. He implied that you were hiding whatever it is even from Mikhail. He asked about how Mikhail died, and how Otets got caught. But most of all, he was asking about that girl from the café across the road, the one who’s your nanny now. It was weird, Roman.” He meets my eyes, genuine confusion in his. “He asked if my father ever told me about something called the Naryshkin Treasure.”

“The what?” I make Nicky say it again.

“Then you’ve never heard of it either?”

I shake my head. “No fucking idea.”

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