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GAVAN
“Fuckingfinally.”
Konstantin grins, looking up as I step through the front door. He strides over and grabs me in a huge bear hug. I hug my brother back, clapping him on the back as I shove and twist the mask back into place.
The mask of normalcy. The mask of power and control, to hide the chaos and darkness roaring beneath.
“Sorry I’m late.”
He grins and shakes his head. “Hey man, it’s your place. Thanks for hosting tonight. Lukas and your sisters just got here.”
I grin back.
It would be easy to look back on my life and focus on all the things that were taken from me: my mother, my birthright as a Reznikov for so long.
My innocence, and my ability to smile normally after the age of thirteen.
And at times, I do allow myself to wallow in the hatred that comes when I consider all that was stolen from me. But when it gets too dark inside my own head, I try to focus instead on the things I’ve been given.
An empire and wealth beyond comprehension, for a start. But also a family, and friends. Discovering that Konstantin was my half-brother opened a world of new faces to me: his enemies-turned-friends from the exclusive private school he’d briefly attended his senior year.
At Oxford Hills Academy, Konstantin became friends with three other Bratva heirs who were also dark shadows on the otherwise pristine, venerated, old-money school: Lukas Komarov, Misha Tsavakov, and Ilya Volkov. Through my brother, and through sitting at the head of the Reznikov empire with him, these friends became my friends as well.
But it wasn’t just friends I made through discovering my past. I found that Konstantin wasn’t the only half-sibling I had.
Konstantin’s wife, Mara, and her twin sister Lizbet, Lukas’ wife, are in fact the daughters of the man who assaulted my mother. Needless to say, the subject of fathers is pretty much not discussed within our circle.
It can get a little confusing, especially when you’re trying to explain it to someone unfamiliar with the family and they’ve got that “what in the Jerry-fucking-Springer shit is this” look on their face. But basically, Konstantin and I share a mother, and Mara, Lizbet and I share a father.
Konstantin and Mara/Lizbet are, however, in no way blood related. I’m just the missing link between them.
“Hey, you!”
I grin, not even needing to fake it when Mara jumps out of her chair and rushes over to hug me as I step into the kitchen area. It’s an impressive feat, given that she’s twenty-nine weeks pregnant.
Withtwins.
“Thanks for fitting us in and having us all over!”
Konstantin and Mara do have a place here in New York. But they’re mostly in London these days—in fact, Mara is flying back there tomorrow to settle in for the last stage of her pregnancy.
I roll my eyes. “Right, like I wouldn’t come over to say goodbye before you jet off to England and disappear into babyville for the next who-knows-how-long.”
She grins, pulling away from me to let Lizbet give me an equally rib-crushing hug. When she slips away from me, she pulls a face.
“You do know that Lukas is cooking tonight, right?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
I chuckle, turning to grin at Lukas as he looks up from something he’s sauteing on the stove, while simultaneously juggling my one-year-old niece, Luna, in his other arm.
“Lukas!” Lizbet hisses at him. “Really?”
He beams at her before pulling his gaze back to his daughter and kissing her tiny forehead. “It’s fine. She’s not picking up words yet.”
“Umm, yes she is?”
Lukas just shrugs, nuzzling Luna’s nose with the tip of his own and making her giggle in a way that’s impossible not to smile at. Lizbet sighs with exasperation, but you can tell by the way she’s looking at her husband that there’s nothing but adoration there.
