Page 69 of Lord of Justice

While St. Petersburg will always be home to me, there's a certain energy about Moscow that I find appealing. Aggressive, almost frenetic, a city building as fast as more ancient parts of it crumble. Glass and steel architecture crowds in next to the turrets and onion-shaped domes.

Iris eagerly watches the streets as we pass, observing the people, the outdoor markets, and then, the stately boulevards lined with trees. When we pull up to the Morozov mansion, she grins. "This screams Morozov."

"How so?" I ask.

"It's built like a fortress, with the stone and the iron gates. You have more trees than anyone else on the block, it's spaced further away from the street and your neighbors. And the thickcolumns of the house feel like they're bracing for a rocket to get fired into them."

"Don't joke about that," Nikandr says, helping Caroline out of the car. "That's happened before. Well, not here," he corrects as Iris's eyes grow wide in alarm.

"We have never had an attack onthishouse," I tell Iris as I take her hand, leading her to the front door. I'm being truthful. We've had to rebuild multiple sections of our St. Petersburg mansion after attacks by grenades, firebombs, and recently, a drone loaded with C 4.

The attackers came to deeply and painfully regret their actions, but that's not relevant here.

The entry hall is two stories, with a massive flight of stairs facing the door and a wall of windows behind it, brightening the hall. A walkway circles the second floor with elaborately wrought iron railings.

As always, the staff is lined up to greet us, no matter how many times Nikandr assures them it's not necessary. I'm indifferent either way to pomp and circumstance, but it makes him uncomfortable, as if we enjoy this subservience the way our bastard grandfather did.

"Iris, Caroline, allow me to introduce Miss Magda, our housekeeper. This is Mr. Belov, head of security."

"A pleasure," Iris says warmly, holding out her hand. It seems to surprise Magda, but she gently shakes it, and then Caroline's. Mr. Belov looks like he'd have a stroke if he was requested to shake hands. Iris tactfully draws hers back.

Trofim comes up behind me, murmuring in my ear. "I'm sorry to interrupt the homecoming. Dariy Agapov has already found out you are in residence. He's requesting a meeting regarding the surface to air missiles you've ordered.”

I nod irritably. "Tell him to join us here. Iris, I'm sorry. I have a meeting. Will you allow Miss Magda to escort you and Caroline on a brief tour and take you to our suites?"

"Suites,"Caroline mouths elaborately at Iris, who stifles a giggle. "Wait," Caroline says, "do we have our own wings, like we do in the St. Petersburg palace?"

Nikandr gives her a grin. "No wings, darling. We have been downgraded tragically to suites."

"Oh,dear," Iris whispers to Caroline. "Only suites."

"I know," Caroline sighs. "You get used to the massive andimposingglamour of the Morozov Russian lifestyle."

Iris flashes me a quick smile over her shoulder as she's drawn away. I find myself smiling back. It'snot a natural response, but it comes more easily now with my wife. Nikandr and I head into the enormous study. For security reasons, it's easier to meet clients here. I settle myself behind the desk before Nikandr can.

"Sorry,Sovietnik,"I say. "I got here first."

Placing his hands on the desk, he leans forward. "Oh, I'm afraid you're forgetting your place,brother. Here, I outrank you asSovietnik. Get your ass out of the chair."

"You'd better pray none of your court cases come before my bench," I say haughtily, but I rise and give it back to him.

Less than twenty minutes later, Dariy Agapov bursts through the door, barely contained by an amused Trofim. "My dear friends, I am delighted to see you again!" He beams as if this is the best of all things. Even though he's a fool, he runs an aggressive shipping and smuggling business. More crucial are his ties with all of the Moscow Six families. So, I've learned to tolerate his annoying, friendly puppy-like enthusiasm.

"Nikandr Morozov, my dear friend!" He brightens. Nikandr reluctantly rises from his seat to shake hands. "How is the beautiful Caroline?" Dariy says, "I do hope she has accompanied you on this trip?"

My brother's smile is pained. "Yes, she has."

"To think I was the first to know here in Russia that the two of you had married," Dariy gleefully reminds him.

And instantly galloped to the phone to spread the news to the Moscow Six,I think cynically.

"Indeed," Nikandr says thinly.

"Andrey Morozov, I hear that you too are a married man?"

"This is true, Dariy Agapov, my wife Iris also accompanied me, but I fear our trip is quite short, and we may not have time for further pleasantries. Another time, perhaps."

He is noticeably disappointed, primarily because he harbors a persistent crush on Caroline.