Page 2 of Lord of Justice

The car peels off, out into the street and fishtailing a bit, knocking over a garbage can. I don't bother to chase her. A grin stretches over my teeth, my skin tight and sticky with blood.

After all, not only do I know who she is, I know where to find her.

Chapter One

In which Andrey Morozov always gets what he wants. Until he doesn’t.

Andrey…

I'm steps away from getting everything I've ever wanted.

It's my due.

There are two hundred guests circling the enormous rooftop of one of the Morozov Manhattan hotels. High enough that the stench of the city doesn't seep into the air here, the haze of light pollution is dimmed, and the full moon shines down on us.

Tonight, the mingling guests are dressed in formal wear, as if they're here for a wedding. It could be called that, I suppose. A union between the Morozov Bratva and the New York State Supreme Court. In just three months, I will accept my nomination and sit on the bench of the highest court in the state, and the irony of it warms my black, withered soul. A Morozov, from one of the most aggressive and significant Bratvas inthe world, stepping foot on the bench of the most powerful judgeship in the state.

"Andrey!" Nikandr, my twin, comes up to me with a huge grin. I've had to endure the endless expressions of good cheer and love that my idiot brother wears all the time these days. We look nearly identical, 6'6, both blonde, the same body type. He's more comfortable with showing his tattoos, Cyrillic script up one side of his neck, tattoos on his knuckles and hands.

I am required to look more… presentable.

"Hello Nik." I endure it as he grips my shoulder and squeezes it.

He glances down at my glass of scotch and grimaces. "You're a traitor to the motherland."

Shrugging, I take a sip, still scanning the rooftop. "Relax, brother. All theimportantparts of me are Russian."

With an elaborate sigh, Nik stands next to me watching the guests. All the current Supreme Court Justices are here, with their spouses. Mayor Cavanaugh, Governor Marian Stone, both U.S. senators, and on my side, the glorious magnificence of the Bratva, my cousin Dmitri, thePakhan,Nikandr, hisSovietnikand the rest of our family.

"I never thought I would see this many peoplefrom our side come together with the straights." Nik absently swirls his glass. "Hell, some of them even look like they're enjoying it."

A small rumble of amusement comes from my chest. Only two of the Supreme Court Justices could be considered "straights," or even human beings. The rest are garbage or outright malevolent. Even though they're uncomfortable with my background, theirs are no better.

Justice Elana Carrington, for instance, who is marching toward us, her jaw clenched in a facsimile of a smile. "Andrey Morozov," she says. "Who would have imagined this day?"

"Who indeed, Elana." I give her a brief nod. She's hated me from the beginning because I know exactly what she is. "How is your foundation doing?"

She stiffens.

"Ah, I'm being rude. My brother Nikandr Morozov, this is Justice Elana Carrington." Nik nods, but he's silent. He knows I'm working up to something, he's waiting for it. "Brother, Elana oversees a foundation for young women. The mission, if I'm correct, is supporting them with STEM education grants?"

Elana's eyes are blazing like the fires of hell, which is where she belongs. The young women unfortunate to be lured into the foundation'sgrasp don't get STEM grants. That money funnels back to her. But many of these girls disappear. I can't prove it yet, but I'm certain she's trafficking them. The proof is buried under layers of bureaucracy and the stubborn inability of law enforcement to believe a Chief Justice could be involved in something so vile.

I'll find the proof. And Justice Elana Carrington will be burned down to ash and bone.

Nik's eyes darken as I mention the "foundation." We've discussed it before. "Ah, yes. I've heard so much about your admirable efforts with lower-income,vulnerableyoung women, Justice Carrington."

She doesn't spare him a glance. "This level of the judiciary operates on a higher standard, Andrey. One I know you're not ready for. You might want to speak less and listen more until you have a better understanding of what's at stake."

"Oh, you would be quite surprised by what I've learned already," I murmur, watching her face twitch. "I'll see you at the nomination hearing."

Roman joins us as she's marching away. Based on family tradition, he would have been theSovietnik, but he wanted to stay as the Bratva'sVorand he handed the position over to my brother. Both are perfectly happy where they are. "Is she going to be a problem?" he asks.

"Not when I'm finished with her," I say.

We watch the crowd for a moment before his eyes narrow. "Ah, fuck."

I watch as he groans, passing a weary hand over his face. "You look exhausted, cousin."