Page 34 of Heritage of Fire

I tug at my cami, uncomfortable with his reprimand. Guilt over being invasive bothers me, and I shift, trying to ease the shame.

But, at the same time, indignation strikes its match. I was trying tohelp. Something so precious as a mother’s love should be celebrated, not shoved in the bottom of a drawer. And at least hehashis mother’s love. She was looking at him like he was her world, whereas mine only saw a meal ticket. A trade. Aprincipessato groom for the Cosa Nostra’s agenda.

“I thought it was nice and that you’d want it,” I snap. “At least you have a mother who loves you!”

A single tear escapes and I blink it away.

“You no knownothing.” He snarls the words, and my mind revolts. I straighten. His eyes jump down to my torso and then flick back up to meet my glare.

He starts moving around the room, snatching random things. A pair of socks, shorts, workout sneakers, and anything else he can get his hands on.

Every couple of steps, he looks back at me, huffing periodically. I meet each indignant glance with equal fervor, and finally, he throws up his hands.

“The only reason you haven’t left yet is because you’re in a contract.Sold. Without the fire to burn it. Tell me, if you had a choice, if you entered this marriage for love, would you stay? Would you stay married to a man who’s married to the Bratva!”

I’m utterly confused. What is he talking about? I don’t even know how to respond. I’m stunned into silence.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, and he marches back out of the room. A moment later, I hear the front door slam shut.

Chapter 16

Nik

The next few weeks with Luna are awkward. For several days I barely see her, and when I do run into her, she’s quiet and often reading.

It doesn’t help I got all cryptic on her.

I hadn’t seen that photo since I moved in, I’m not even sure how it ended up with my bathroom stuff.

In her mind, she was doing me a favor. Pulling out a lost memory. Saving a piece of my childhood. She doesn’t know I’d be okay never seeing that picture again.

“You and Nikolai should find something else to do this afternoon,” I hear my father say to my mother. I pause to listen before I round the corner to the kitchen.

“Why? Viktor, please, tell me you’re not?—”

“It has to be done, Anna. The pakhan has asked me to handle this interrogation. Stay out of the basement when you get home.”

“What about me? Do you care?—”

“Nyet. Enough,” my father growls, and I choose that moment to make myself known.

I pad into the kitchen and help myself to a glass of water. My parents don’t say anything to each other. My father’s warm, earthy eyes rove over me and I shrug, offering him a smile.

My mother always tells me I shrug when I’m uncomfortable—she says a professional told her that. That, in some way, I’m uncertain. I don’tfeeluncertain. But when my father moves to ruffle the hair on my head, I shrug again and he turns, without another word, to leave.

“Nikolai. Would you like to take a picnic to the park this afternoon?” my mother asks.

I nod enthusiastically. “Da. Can I bring my baseball glove?”

“Da.” She laughs. “Get your stuff and I’ll make our lunch.”

We leave our townhouse and walk to the park. It’s only ten minutes away. Luka and I snuck out there once; on his seventh birthday, six months ago. We had no plans, just wanted to see if we could. Unfortunately, the pakhan sent four guards after us, and Mr. Morozov told Luka he had to start acting like a future pakhan.

I asked my dad about it—about what that meant for Luka. He didn’t answer me right away, only stared out the window as if lost in thought. His last words about it were, “It’s Vladimir’s job to ensure a strong Bratva leadership. As it is mine to ensure a long-lasting line of loyal service.”

The heat beats down on my forehead as I lug the picnic basket through the park’s tree-lined paths. A dog walker wrestles with four dogs of different sizes, the largest trying to chase a squirrel and pulling the whole lot with him.

The chuckle I let out is overpowered by the laughter of several children playing a game of tag in the open grassy area. Lots of people are spread out with blankets and food. There’s even a man in a business suit, seated on a gray wool blanket,with a closed pizza box in his hand. It’s as if he’s waiting for something.

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