Page 17 of His Forced Bride
"Then hold the line. Give me the night to think."
My head throbs and my voice is hoarse.
I need a drink.
The line goes dead, and I set the phone back on the desk.
My reflection stares back from the black screen—silver hair disheveled, lines carved deeper around my eyes.
At forty-four, I look older than my years, worn down by decades of violence and the pressure of keeping an empire intact.
Another call comes through, this one from St. Petersburg.
Dimitri's name flashes across the screen, and my jaw tightens before I answer.
"Brother, I say gruffly. I'm in no mood for this, and after everything that's happened today, I'm ready to draw blood. My patience is worn so thin I could use it like razor wire to cut people's throats.
"Yuri." His voice carries its familiar warmth, but I'm not encouraged by it.
My brother is a snake charmer. "I heard about Dominic… Tragic loss."
"Yes."
"These things happen in our line of work. Young men take risks."
I open my desk drawer and pull out a bottle and a crystal tumbler, pour three fingers of vodka into it, and take a long swallow before responding.
"What do you want, Dimitri?" It's my way of calming my angry beast before I let loose on my own brother.
"I want to discuss the future. With Dominic gone, there are questions about succession. The other families are asking who leads after you."
He won't come right out and say it, but that's a direct threat to my leadership.
Dimitri has always resented my position as head of the family, always believed the leadership should have fallen to him when our father died.
Now, with no clear heir, he sees an opportunity to challenge my authority.
"The leadership question is settled."
"Is it? You have no sons, Yuri. No one to carry the name forward."
His voice drops to almost a whisper.
"Perhaps it's time to consider other arrangements."
I end the call abruptly and pour more vodka.
The clear liquor burns down my throat, but it does nothing to ease the rage building in my chest.
Dimitri will make his move soon, probably within the month.
Other rivals will follow, sensing discord within our ranks.
The marriage to Inessa isn't just about honoring contracts anymore.
It's about the survival of my bloodline and my empire.
I open my desk drawer and pull out a small velvet box.
