Page 26 of Lethal Legacy

Love leaves only wreckage in its wake.

I learned that lesson as a child. It’s not one I intend to repeat.

It’s a measure of how unsettled I am that it’s almost a relief when we pull up outside Alhaurin prison. The relief lasts as long as it takes for me to exit the vehicle and notice the license plates on the black SUV parked nearby.

“What the fuck is thatmudakdoing here?” I slam the car door with enough force to shake the whole vehicle. “Nikolai should know better than to turn up on my day.”

Dimitry rolls his eyes. “Since when has Nikolai known anything?”

Good point.I stalk through security, seething. Mikhail’s younger brother has been a gigantic pain in my ass for over a decade. In my current mood, seeing him seated opposite Yuri, clad in his customary shiny track pants and designer T-shirt, blond hair greasy with product and slicked back from his narrow little face, has me grinding my teeth. Where Mikhail always favored his mother’s darker coloring, Nikolai is the spitting image of his father, which only annoys me more today.

“Otets.” I greet Yuri with the respectful title of father, completely ignoring Nikolai. At seventy, and after six years in prison, Yuri is no longer the fearedpakhanwho once ran Malaga with an iron fist. Without the benefit of a well-tailored suit, his sagging paunch stands out against the thin frame, and his features are slack, the once bright blue eyes sunken and nervously darting this way and that.

“Don’t be angry,moy syn.” Yuri licks his lips and glances around, leaning in as if to speak in confidence. “I have good reason for inviting both of my sons to meet with me today.”

I swallow my annoyance for the second time. It’s bad enough that Yuri insists on these weekly updates of “his” business. There are always eyes watching our movements. Such regular visits to a convicted felon don’t help the rumors that continue to swirl around my name and Hale’s reputation.

Including Nikolai in the meeting increases the risk tenfold.

“I paid the guards so we could both visit.” Nikolai shoots me a rather triumphant glance, as if this accomplishment shows some kind of genius.

“And now they’re all watching us have this little meeting. Way to stay under the radar, Nikolai.” I don’t attempt to soften my tone. He scowls and lights another of his ever-present cigarettes. Clearly his payment to the guards also includes the right to smoke.

“Nikolai tells me you haven’t been to visit Pillars since it reopened.” Yuri takes one of his son’s cigarettes and lights it, leaning back in his chair as he blows a long plume of smoke directly into my face. “You arepakhanin my place, Roman. Your bratva need you.”

It’s an effort to keep my expression blank. This is an old argument, one Mikhail and I carefully navigated for years.

I miss you, my brother.

For an instant I feel Mikhail’s absence so much it takes my breath away.

Yuri so adored his eldest son that he would bow to Mikhail’s judgment without question. But I am not Yuri’s natural-born son, and adopted or not, I won’t ever have the same standing Mikhail did.

“I have told you before that I do not interfere in Nikolai’s business interests,Otets.” It’s a struggle to maintain the facade of respect with Nikolai’s smug face in punching distance. “Pillars nightclub, and the associated interests, are entirely his responsibility. Nikolai has his ownvor.He doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder.”

And I’ve worked night and day so that your grandchildren can grow up with clean hands, far away from your dirty legacy of girls, drugs, and gambling that occupies Nikolai’s time.

But I don’t say any of that. Yuri comes from another time, a different mindset. He and Mikhail fought bitterly over the establishment of Hale, but by then Yuri was in prison and Mikhail waspakhan.By mutual agreement, Mikhail and I never told Yuri about Mercura. Both of us instinctively knew that Yuri would never understand it. As far as Yuri knows, Hale Property is just our legitimate front, while Nikolai runs what Yuri considers to be the “real” end of the Stevanovsky bratva.

Nikolai’s business is the old way of doing business, and the one Yuri understands. For the past two years, since Mikhail’s death, I’ve walked a delicate line between pretending to respect Nikolai’s independence and keeping him and his sordid business well away from Hale. More importantly, away from Mercura, about which Nikolai knows absolutely nothing.

It hasn’t been easy, and I don’t like lying to Yuri, who is the reason I’m not still on the streets, and to whom I know I owe everything.

But in the end I had to choose between protecting Mikhail’s legacy and making his father happy. And loyal though I am, Mikhail’s children are my priority. Yuri will spend the rest of his days in jail, whereas the children have their whole lives in front of them.

As for Nikolai—if it wasn’t for what I owe Yuri, I’d have put a bullet between his eyes long ago. The little prick is as nasty as he is incompetent. It’s almost a full-time job keeping his bumbling ineptitude from sinking Hale altogether.

“I understand what you and Mikhail had to do, after the raids.” Yuri nods sagely, as if Mikhail and I built Hale at his command, rather than despite it. “I made youpakhanover my second son because it was Mikhail’s wish, and because I thought you had the balls for the job.”

I stiffen, and Dimitry shifts uneasily in the seat behind me.

“Am I to understand you are reconsidering that decision,Otets?” My tone is still even and respectful, but by the way Nikolai shifts his chair subtly away from me, my cold fury is clear enough.

“No, no.” Yuri waves me away, but the light of petty triumph in his eyes makes me grit my teeth. “Sixteen years ago you stepped between Mikhail and a bullet. That is not something I will ever forget, Roman. You were poor, an orphan surviving on the streets. There was no reason for you to come to the defense of a rich college kid on spring break, and yet you did.” He smiles ingratiatingly at me, but the petty light remains in his eyes.

I’ve learned over the years that Yuri only ever tells this story when he wants something. It’s his subtle way of reminding me of where I came from and what he has done for me.

I also know there’s no point in interrupting him once he starts telling the story.

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