The double doors are over-large, and I ring the bell.
All around me, on the picturesque grounds, from the shadows of the copses of trees, I can feel eyes on me. I passed two different guardhouses and something that looked like a guest cottage, but I’m guessing it’s for the staff or guards. They’re watching me, eyeing me, seeing what I’ll do.
I let Jordan know I’d be coming by here today, but I’ve noidea if she let them know. I’m guessing so since I wasn’t interrogated at the gate. Sure, I have the pass from my dead grandfather, but the guard didn’t seem shocked to see me.
A woman answers the door, pretty, slender, maybe in her early fifties? She looks kind, stoic, and has a certain kind of Russian persona I’ve met before. She’s a little like Magda, if Magda took a chill pill.
“I’m—”
“You look a little like him. You’re Ilya—Mr. Belov. I’m Svetlana. I’ve been with the family since I was a teen.”
Svetlana has the demeanor of a Russian, but she sounds purely American. I’m willing to bet she was either born here or came here as a baby or a small child. But it’s not really my place to ask.
I shake hands with her and follow her inside. There’s a guard inside, but he turns away as we pass. I ignore him, keen to keep a neutral air, and follow Svetlana.
She’s a delight to be around, sweet, and does all the talking. She gives me a tour of the mansion, pointing out the main hive of business, my grandfather’s study. She shows me all three floors and the views from the top floor of the stunning grounds.
Svetlana’s apparently been married for thirty years and has recently become a grandmother. She shows me pictures, and her granddaughter’s adorable with blonde curls and a cute smile.
In the kitchen, she makes me a coffee. “When are you moving in?”
“I’m not sure I’m going to.”
Svetlana frowns. “It might not be in the stipulations, but…”
She stops, biting her lip.
“You don’t need to censor yourself around me,” I say. “Go on.”
She picks up the cleaning cloth and wipes down the gleaming counters. “You’ll never get the respect you deserve if you don’t. And your grandfather expected it. I’d suggest sooner rather than later.”
A place this big would mean more space between me and Alina. The heavy furniture and dark wood seem to eat light, whereas the modern kitchen is a dream of light and open space. Maybe Alina could redo the place.
Wives do that kind of thing. Don’t they?
“What about decorating?”
“You can do what you want. In fact, I’d recommend putting your touch on it, making it reflect the fact there’s a new pakhan.” Her smile’s fleeting. “But if you can see it in yourself to move in tomorrow, or even today, then it would help cement yourself as the new pakhan. It’s like being the alpha wolf.”
I laugh because she’s completely right.
Living here may not need to be forever, but I have to make my mark. “I’ll get set up today. Svetlana, can you arrange for the senior men of my bratva to meet me in my office in ten?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me Ilya.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“When the men aren’t around, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
She hurries off, and I finish my coffee, scrolling to find a moving company. The layout has a big room on the second floor that’s been used for storage, but it’s clearly an old bedroom with its huge balcony and bathroom. Upstairs has a host of bedrooms, including my grandfather’s.
I arrange for a company to move some things this afternoon. Gym equipment, books, my bed, clothes. The rest I’llsort later. I’ll rent my old place out or just hold it for a guesthouse.
Shit, I even toy with the idea of setting Alina up there. But she’ll insist on coming here, and she’ll be right.
