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Ruslan and Lom, the only two full-blooded Umarova children who are still alive, have regained control over their father’s legacy. While doing so, their family had a massive shift. I’ve heard rumors that their mother supported Anzor and wanted the fighting to stop, but nothing has been publicly spoken about it. I’m sure at some time I’m going to find out every piece of information I’m looking for.
“You believe the name change only shows how dedicated Ruslan is to his family.”
“Yes, I do. We need you to marry into a family who takes care of their own. In my eyes, if you were to marry into the Umarova family, it would only mean that they would support whatever your aspirations are and whatever you’re passionate about. I’ve also been thinking about something else.”
“Something else?” At this point, I sit up on my chair and take my sunglasses off, placing them on the white cushion in front of me. I despise it when my father can’t just tell me what he’s thinking straight off the bat. I’d prefer it if he just came out with it all.
“If you and Eset are married, it might keep there from being some major fallout in our family. Think about it, Alejandro’s sister is Sofia, who’s married to Desmond Mackenzie. Eset’s brother has business with the Steeles, who are related to the Mackenzies. I think the blowout could be minimized if we’re successful in getting the Umarovas to believe that you’re a good fit for Eset. I think it could be a transition of power from my Uncle Alejandro to me versus taking what was his. Understand?”
Of course, I understand. I’m not a fucking idiot. “Yes, in theory, it would minimize a lot of problems, but getting it to come to fruition could still be a difficult task.”
“Exactly, which is why I need you to be on your A-game as much as possible,” my father informs me. “We need this transition of power to happen. Now, I’m fully prepared to take everything from my uncle if it comes to that, but I’m certain the Umarova family would prefer things to be as peaceful as possible. If it ends up getting bloody after you’re married to Eset, then I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to be in power.”
Unbelievable. He doesn’t realize how much he just contradicted himself. On the one hand, he’s saying he’ll do whatever it takes, and on the other, he’s saying it could be a peaceful transition. This right here is exactly why I don’t believe my father would make a good leader. I think he would backtrack all the progress Alejandro has made over the years, and Mexico would be in ruin because of his choices.
What blows my mind is that my father even wants me to marry Eset in the first place. Most of the time, his opinions are made very clear on who isactuallymafia royalty and who isn’t. I’m surprised he hasn’t called Eset a bastard yet, or a claimless whore. It won’t surprise me if he ever does cross a line and says something close to either of those, but I do think that he’s going to. If I end up marrying the woman, I pray he won’t say it after she’s my wife because that would be a game-changer for him.
Eset is my way out of this mess my father has gotten me into. At the end of the day, I don’t want to be any more involved in this than I am right now. In my opinion, my father is causing rifts in the water that don’t need to be there in the first place. He could’ve even waited until Alejandro passed because I doubt Leticia wants to rule over Mexico. She’s been in Ireland, married to her husband for many years now.
“I’m always going to be on my A-game,” I tell my father. He knows better than to act like I don’t follow every order, wish, or demand he throws my way. I follow them because I have to and because I have no one else who would trust me. If I went to Alejandro now and pledged allegiance to him, I know he’d think I’m nothing more than a double agent, ready to rip him apart from the inside out. I don’t have enough proof that I’m my own man and not my father’s bitch doing his bidding. In time, I know others will begin to trust me, but until that day, I need to continue to play the game the only way I know how.
I’ll do what I have to in order to ensure my own survival. Hell, I’ve done it my entire life, though I don’t know if it’s something I can continue doing. My father’s aspirations are getting crazier with each passing day, and all he cares about is taking what his father once had. He only cares about the power in his grasp, and all I care about is keeping my head attached to my body.
One of these days, he’s going to turn on me. It won’t matter that I’m his son. He’s had men who worked for him for years who he called second sons, yet he killed them right in front of me. I think the only reason I’m still alive is that I’m the only confirmed child he has. I’m his legacy, and until he creates a new one, he has to deal with me.
I’m not an idiot. My expiration date is coming up soon, and the deeper we get into this alliance with the Umarova family, the more I’m going to see it.
Chapter Two
Eset
The last few weeks have flown by, but that happens when your family is as busy as mine. Even being so busy, I’ve still managed to find time to focus on some of my artwork. When all the shit was going down between my father and my siblings, my mother destroyed pieces I’d put hours and hours into.
I’m standing in front of my canvas right now. I’ve put over twenty hours into this piece, and I’ll probably put twenty more before I’m remotely happy with the outcome. I’ve been painting since I was a young girl, and over the years, I have found love for all sorts of artwork. What I’ve done here is created a seascape using oil paints. The bottom is a deep cerulean blue, and there are only shades of light peeking through. Past the water are dark, looming mountains, and beyond that are heavy overcast clouds.
Over the last few months, I’ve noticed that my paintings have gotten much darker than usual. Before, I would paint a lot of sunsets or sunrises or even floral gardens in the height of summer. I’ve never really had one area of focus, but I do notice the changes in my style. I think it comes down to the pressures of being an Umarova and the series of events that have plagued us recently.
Some days I even wonder if I’m happy in the first place, but asking myself a question like that would be foolish on my part. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if I’m happy. It only matters that we continue to push forward as a family.
As a teenager, I knew my life was different than others around me, but I didn’t realize the dangers hidden in the shadows. I was happy in my ignorance, and looking back now, I don’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. I remember the days of traveling wherever I wanted with friends, sitting in the kitchen with my mother and speaking about inconsequential things like what was happening at school… though it was all bullshit. I never knew back then the type of woman that I needed to turn myself into. I’m the woman I need to be now. Some call me callous, while others call me a bitch. I guess it doesn’t matter, though. What does matter is that I’m as strong as an ox.
It’s hard for me to believe it’s the beginning of November. It feels like yesterday that all the drama was happening between my brothers and my father. It was a time when my world did a complete one-eighty, but I needed it. I needed all these things to happen in order to discover who I was truly meant to be—a fearless businesswoman.
Sure, I still find time to pursue my passions, like my artwork… but my life is dedicated to my family now and what’s best for all of us.
I place my palette down on the counter and step back, looking at my painting one last time. I have a lot more work to do, but I have a dinner obligation at Lom and Emily’s house. Nazyr and I live in Ruslan’s old home, and our brother Lom recently shacked up with Emily, who is the cousin of Amelia, Ruslan’s wife. Lom and Emily purchased a townhome a couple of blocks away from our home.
I exit my art studio and proceed down the stairwell where my and Nazyr’s bedrooms are. “Are you going to be ready to leave soon?” Nazyr calls from his bedroom. He must hear my shoes clacking against the hardwood floors.
“Yes. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you downstairs,” I call back as I disappear into my bedroom. I walk to my ensuite bathroom and strip out of the old t-shirt and sweatpants I wear when I paint. It’s my typical go-to attire because if I get paint on it, it doesn’t really matter. Once I’m out of my clothes, I toss them in the laundry bin, then walk into my closet. There’s an outfit I’ve been dying to wear, and while this is a family dinner, I can always look like a showstopper if I want.
I grab the hanger holding a matching vibrant sapphire blue pantsuit. The trousers are long and high-waisted, just the way I like them, and there’s an oversized jacket that will stop at mid-thigh. It has a huge belt buckle on the jacket, which is honestly the entire reason I bought it in the first place. I don’t have a top picked out, but there is this white bandeau crop-top sort of thing that’s been in my closet for a while. There’s a small “V” cut out in the center of it, and it’s thick enough that I think it’ll only maybe show off an inch or so of my skin. To finish the look off completely, I grab a pair of silver, glittering, pointed heels.
I grab the top from the drawer I know it’s in and begin putting the outfit together. Once it’s all on, I look in the mirror, and I’m more than pleased with my reflection. I look like a powerful, show-stopping woman, just like I want. I run a brush through my hair really quickly, apply a little bit more mascara, and dart downstairs to meet my brother.
“You think I’d know by now.”
“Know what?” I furrow my brows as I reach the last few steps.
