Page 21 of Dance of Madness

It was so bad that I literally ended up barricading myself in my room with the dresser in front of the door the last night we were out there.

“Why are we talking about Leo Debolsky?” I say quietly.

“His family has expanded their business dealings,” Papa replies, his tone cold. “They're operating in Brooklyn, Jersey, and parts of Queens now. And they’re looking to secure alliances in the city.”

There’s a beat before he continues.

“Vladimir has…expressed interest in re-opening discussions.”

I scowl. “Whatkindof discussions?”

“The same ones we had four years ago, Milena,” my uncle mutters from his chair.

My eyes widen with disbelief and anger as I whirl first to Levka, then my father.

“What? Also, isn’t Leo is already engaged, last I heard?”

“She recently passed away,” Papa says quietly. “Car crash.”

I stare at him. “When?”

“About four weeks ago,” my uncle murmurs.

My jaw drops as I look at Papa. “And he’s already looking for another one?!”

Papa sighs. “The Debolsky bratva is growing exponentially in power. I’ll admit, an alliance would strengthen our position.”

My heartbeat ticks louder. My chest tightens.

“You want me to marry Leo.”

“I’m merely saying it’s an option,” Papa says. “The choice remains yours?—”

“You can’t be fucking ser?—!”

“I have no male heir, Milena!” Papa roars, pounding his fist on the desk between us and making the vodka in his glass splash over the rim a little.

He takes a breath, composing himself as he shakes his head.

“I have no male heir,” he repeats, more calmly. “Even if youdidwant the throne after I’m gone?—”

“Which I don’t.”

“I’mawareof that, my daughter,” he sighs. “But if youdid, it would be an uphill battle for a woman to take over the empire, and we both know it.”

He's right.

Papa might be one of my biggest champions, and though he is old-school in some ways, I know without question that if Ididwant to succeed him as the head of the family, he’d move Heaven and Earth to make it happen.

But while therearefemale heads of Bratva families, like Anastasia Javanovic or the formidable Yelizaveta Solovyova, aka the White Queen, it’s not common. The Bratva world is stilldeeplyrooted in patriarchal, old-fashioned ideas.

“Look, Milena,” Papa continues. “I know he was prick four years ago?—”

“He tried to kick in my bedroom door while I was sleeping after I told him I wouldn’t fuck him!” I yell back.

Papa’s face darkens with anger, even though he’s heard this story before.

“Vladimir has spoken to me about his son’s…issues with alcohol,” Levka adds.

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