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10

ADRIK

I hear Stefan outside the door before he even knocks.

“Come in,” I bark.

He opens the door and slides into my office. His hair is more mussed than usual.

“Who enjoyed the go-karts more?” I drawl. “You or the six-year-old girl?”

He grins. “Toss-up, I’d say.”

I roll my eyes. “Where is she now?”

“I showed them both to their rooms,” he says. “The connected suites on the east side. I figured they’d be more comfortable in conjoined rooms since Isabella is so young.”

I nod, dismissive. I don’t much care for Emery’s comfort at the moment.

“I also have Gavril contacting a breeder about a service dog. There are a shit ton of requirements for those animals, though. Training and interviews and permits. It’s a hassle.”

“Pay what you have to to get it all waived,” I say. “I want it as soon as possible.”

Stefan nods. “We’ll take care of it.”

“And the status of the cameras?”

He winces. “I had to haul ass to get the wheelchair accessible go-kart here. There wasn’t time. Sorry.”

I raise a brow. “You’re sorry? That’s new.”

“And you’re a big goddamn grump right now. That’s also new.” He sighs. “I’m just doing what’s necessary to ensure I keep my balls attached to my body. We both know you have a penchant for violence when you’re upset.”

I know exactly what instance he is thinking of, but I leave it. That’s the last thing I need to be thinking about right now.

“Lucky for you, neglecting to install some cameras doesn’t rise to the level of meriting violence to your precious balls,” I mutter. “But insult me again and I might change my mind.”

“No thank you.”

I nod. “One other thing.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever apologize to me again. Just do your fucking job.”

He gives me a saucy salute. “Understood.”

I turn away, pacing in front of my desk. “Having them here is already more complicated than it should be. What is my father thinking?”

“I’d imagine the don is probably thinking that a woman would be good for you.”

I turn to Stefan. “Do you think a woman would be good for me?”

I expect him to back down immediately—Lord knows my tone has plenty of biting threat in it—but he just shrugs. “Veronika has been good for Yasha. He was wild before she came along. Now, he’s dependable. Well, more dependable.”

My little brother knew his way around a liquor cabinet before he was thirteen. And the fact he isn’t riddled with STDs is a miracle in its own right.

But he had his reasons for acting out.

And I have mine for not wanting to get married.

Our father knows that better than anyone.

“I am not Yasha,” I say. “And Emery is not Veronika.”

Veronika was raised to marry a powerful man. Bred like a racehorse. She has the pedigree and the poise.

But for her entire life, she’s been protected. Shielded from hard choices and dark realities.

Yasha should be grateful I’m next in line instead of him, because Veronika is not ready to be the wife of the don.

But Emery? Emery is… resourceful.

I got her on her knees in front of me, but it took some effort. Nearly more than it was worth. I’d almost admire her spirit… if I wasn’t planning to thoroughly break it.

"I could get rid of her," I muse.

Stefan's eyes go wide. "Are you suggesting—no disrespect, Adrik, but… you can't kill her. She has a kid. That's against the code, surely?”

"My only code is to do what is best for the Bratva," I snarl. Then I unclench. "But right now, killing Emery isn't what's best. It isn't what I meant, either. I meant I could let her go. Let her leave."

Stefan looks visibly relieved. He has a soft spot for the little girl already. Perhaps for both of them. "But…?"

"But she knows too much," I finish. "She knows my father is sick. She knows there is about to be a power vacuum. And if I let her walk out of this house before I’m at the head, Malcolm Waters will have her and that information in an instant. The greedy pig would probably sell it to the Volandri for no more than a campaign donation.”

"Fuck Waters. We can kill him. It wouldn't just be best for the Bratva; it would be best for the world."

I wave the idea away. "Too messy. He's a senator. The police would get unpleasant. They'll look past a lot, but not if we start taking down congressmen."

Stefan nods in reluctant agreement. Soon, he'll be almost at the top of the Bratva food chain, right next to me. Once my father passes the torch, this office will be a war room. The beating heart of the Bratva.

The fate of the Tasarovs will sit here with me and my most trusted advisors, Stefan included.

So long as I take a wife.

"Fuck," I grimace. "I don't want to do this again."

Stefan takes a step forward and lowers his voice. "If it helps, I don't think Emery is like Sofia."

Just hearing her name sets me on edge.

In this world, there's no time for regret. It doesn't change anything and it slows you down, makes you doubt yourself.

But even I regret Sofia.

"She can't be," I say. "Things with Emery have to—no, they will go smoothly. I can't cut her loose and I can't kill her."

"So what then?" Stefan asks.

I shake my head and sigh. "So… I have to fucking marry her."

* * *

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