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Chapter 1 - Leo
I hurried past my office, ignoring the obnoxious hammering sound I set up so my alerts would wake me up if I dozed off during the long nights of coding. When three loud banging sounds landed in quick succession, I skidded in a U-turn on my wide marble hallway to turn them off.
It took a bit of willpower not to check on what seemed to need my attention so badly. If I checked, I’d want to fix whatever it was, then I’d get sidetracked with something else after that. I didn’t have time for self-indulgence, which is how my father viewed my software company, because I’d been running the new territory of our family business here in the Big Apple.
The family business took most of my time, but I was so determined to get my programs out in the mainstream that I skimped on sleep. All the ideas that danced around in my head, begging to be brought to life, kept me awake anyway, and mainlining coffee helped.
So far, it was working out reasonably well. Ever since my sister and I hacked our way to victory over the Novikoffs and took over their operation, I’d only had a few mishaps, which my team up here and I now had everything under control. Things were oddly peaceful, which made me nervous in itself, but I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it.
I also didn’t have time for the two clicks that I thought would resolve one of the alerts. I didn’t have time to slide into my ergonomic chair, which kept me from having a hunchback at twenty-five. I did both anyway; the siren call of solving the puzzles of my code was too strong to resist.
I’d had twenty solid minutes to get a snack together and change into something more presentable than my cargo shorts and gray sweatshirt that dated back to college in Moscow. I meant to put on one of the designer suits I wore to important Bratva meetings to signal that I was, indeed, the man in charge. The doorbell rang, and I blinked a few times. As usual, the few seconds turned into a swathe of lost time, but at least I resolved a couple of the problems, causing my computer to bang out annoying hammer noises.
I paused in the hallway as the doorbell rang again. Change into a power suit? Ah, to hell with it. It was just Evelina. She didn’t care what I wore; if I made her wait, she’d tear me a new one.
I swung open one side of the vast double doors leading into my swanky Manhattan apartment. It was easily five times bigger than my old place in Moscow, and I mainly only used my office, the master bedroom, and the kitchen. Like the bespoke suits, it was one of the trappings of my new position.
My twin sister beamed at me in the foyer leading from my private elevator. I beamed right back. It was like looking in a mirror, just a foot shorter and a girl. Same dark hair, same green eyes. My other half. She didn’t immediately launch herself at me for a hug because she was loaded down with a baby carrier. Our old childhood friend, Kristina, carried an overstuffed diaper bag and what looked like camping gear.
“What a great surprise,” I said, taking everything from her and dropping a kiss onto the top of her auburn hair. She was like a second sister to me, and even though we lived in the same city now, I never got to see her due to our hectic lives.
“Do you think I’m not going to be glued to my baby brother’s side on one of his rare visits to New York?” she asked, sighing with relief that I unloaded her.
Evelina snickered. “You’re welcome in Miami anytime, and you know it.”
I searched for any hint of strain in their relationship but was relieved to see they acted normally around each other. I hadn’t seen them since Evelina came up three months ago, shortly after my nephew Maks was born, and things had seemed a bit off between them then.
Sure, Kristina could say she didn’t mind her father getting married to her childhood best friend, but having a brand-new baby brother out of the deal might have thrown her for a bit of a loop. She seemed over it now and was clearly enamored by the tiny, squirming bundle as I was.
“Come on, let’s get to the living room,” I said. “You can set up your contraptions there and get him out of that torture chair.”
Seeing the little guy strain against the safety seat bindings stressed me out. It had only been a year since I was in a similar predicament, although at least I was certain Maks wasn’t getting wailed on or shot.
Evelina gave me a quick look of concern before rolling her eyes and informing me he loved his car seat. I pushed aside the coffee table so they’d have space for all the baby’s belongings and then ran to the kitchen to fix the snack and drinks I should have already prepared. I had a cook come in a few times a week to make me a stash of meals, but I was in the takeout capital of the world and didn’t need someone full-time.
Thankfully, I remembered their visit that morning when I was out for coffee. I’d picked up some cookies, fruit, and sweet iced tea, a drink we had learned to love while staying in Miami with our cousins.
Bringing my offering back into the living room, I was astonished to see Maks lying happily on his belly and straining to lift his head and reach for a plush starfish just out of his reach. The thing that I’d thought was a tent was some kind of containment device with mesh walls and brightly colored flooring. Kristina informed me it was a pack-and-play she bought to have in her apartment for the visit.
“Wait, so Mikhail’s not with you?” I asked.
Evelina and her husband had their own place in the city, similar in grandiosity to mine, while Kristina stayed in a respectable and comfortable apartment in Brooklyn. Her father, now my sister’s husband, didn’t exactly approve of her life choices. It wasn’t so much that she was trying to be an actress but that she was trying to stay out of the family business that bothered him.
All Bratva fathers had big plans for their kids, as Evelina and I could attest, and he was supporting her enough to keep her safe for now, but the clock was ticking. Kristina had to know it but was willfully pretending not to hear the timer running down on her days of fame-seeking.
Evelina sighed long and loud. “He had to deal with something in Moscow and couldn’t come. It’s more fun staying at Kristina’s.”
“Just like old times,” Kristina said, leaning into the playpen to put the starfish closer to her half-brother. “Just with a new addition.” Her voice went higher like women do when babies are within hearing range.
Evelina slid off the couch and started adding toys from the diaper bag, her eyes roaming her son and a slightly angelic smile on her face. Was this my sister? The one who could take a punch as easily as give one? Hop onto the back of a motorcycle and race through the streets of Moscow in pursuit of a bounty she’d been tracking?
I took a moment to marvel at how motherhood had softened her but also seemed to add steel to her that wasn’t there before. No, it was more of a purpose. Oh, she was still ambitious to the point of being power-crazed, calling me at all hours of the day and night to talk about our joint territory, but it was easy to see where her true allegiance rightfully lay. Everything, even me, would be tossed to the wayside if Maks needed her more.
Sitting on the floor so I could better marvel at the little guy, Evelina jumped up, plucked him out of his happy blob position, and dropped him into my arms.
“Whoa,” I said, freezing. “Are you sure about this? What if I drop him?”
“You’re a foot from the floor,” she said, adjusting his head into the crook of my elbow so it didn’t loll around. “You should get the total Maks experience.”
