Page 23 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

“Wait, I have to ask if you know who he is,” I say, suddenly recalling that my wife might not be clued up in the way my world works.

She peers up at me and shakes her head. “I don’t. As I’ve said before, I’ve been out of this life for years. But I do still know that different mafia sects have a chain of command.”

I nod. “Well, who would be right at the top in the Cosa Nostra?” I ask, attempting to see if she remembers the so-called chain of command.

“Uh, that would be the Capo dei Capi…” she says, trailing off and when the realization seems to hit her, she looks up at me with wide, horrified eyes. “Don’t tell me your father—”

“He’s the Pakhan, yes,” I say, and without another word, we continue our walk toward them.

As we approach, my father’s eyes lock onto Gabriette. It’s a scrutinizing gaze, one that I’ve felt countless times. It’s the kind of gaze that measures worth, that sizes up potential threats and allies in the span of a heartbeat.

“Father, Natalya, this is my wife, Gabriette,” I say, making the introduction as formal and as detached as possible.

My father extends his hand for a firm shake, and I notice Gabriette’s smile waver slightly. My sister offers a polite, if slightly cold, smile in return.

“Gabriette, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I apologize for not being able to attend the wedding,” my father says, his words practiced but sincere.

“I understand, Mr. Baranov. The pleasure is mine,” Gabriette replies, holding her own despite the palpable tension, but I catch the tremble in her hand at the same time my father does.

“Natalya,” Gabriette continues, turning toward my sister. “I wasn’t even aware that Mikhail had a sister.”

“Hm, I wonder why,” Natalya says, a hint of disdain in her voice. “I wasn’t at the wedding either, but then, I wasn’t invited.”

I feel a spike of irritation. “You were away at St. Leonards, immersed in your final trial studies. I didn’t think you’d want to be bothered.”

Natalya’s eyes narrow at me for a second, and I know we’ll be revisiting this conversation later, in private. “Well, it’s nice to meet you anyway, Gabriette.”

An awkward silence settles over us. Gabriette doesn’t know yet that in a week’s time, I’ll take over as Pakhan. My father and I have been meticulously planning the transition, laying the groundwork for a seamless change in leadership.

But the presence of Gabriette in this new chapter of my life is a wild card, an unpredictable element I’ve yet to fully understand.

“My son tells me you’re adjusting well,” my father finally says, breaking the silence.

“I’m getting there, thank you,” Gabriette replies, a little cautiously, her eyes darting from me to my father.

“That’s good to hear. Mikhail will need a strong woman by his side in the years to come,” he adds, the implication heavy in the air, though only I fully grasp its weight.

I can’t help but think about what happened ten years ago … only for him to say something like this now. A strong woman at my side as I take over? What for?

As we make small talk, I can feel Gabriette’s hand on my arm, her fingers lightly touching the fabric of my suit.

“We should get back to the other guests,” I finally say, cutting the non-existent conversation short.

As we walk away, I feel Gabriette’s eyes on me again, just like earlier. This time, it’s not my shirt or my tattoos she’s studying, but something far more impenetrable.

I realize, with a mixture of frustration and something I don’t even want to name, that the layers of my life I’ve kept so meticulously compartmentalized are beginning to blur.

“So … your father is basically the head of the Russian mafia. The most powerful person this side of the pond,” Gabriette says, scoffing in disbelief.

I nod. “Yes, and I’ll be taking over from him soon, so that’s a fact you had better get used to.”

As soon as I say this, Gabriette seems to grow pale. Good, she finally understands what this means for her and how she can’t step out of line right now because it might end in her death at another’s hand.

She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. There’s something there—an emotion I can’t quite place. Maybe it’s the same magnetic pull I’m trying to resist. Maybe it’s something else entirely.

But for a split second, I find myself wondering what it would be like to let my guard down, to explore whatever the hell this tension is between us.

I quickly snuff out that thought. My past is a demon that lurks in the darkest corners of my mind, a ghost whose whispers have shaped the man I am today. Letting anyone get close, even Gabriette, isn’t an option. It’s a risk I can’t afford to take.

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