Normally when he pushes me on women, I don’t really care. I shouldn’t care this time, either, but something inside me snaps at the confirmation that he might want her.
“We’re not having this conversation. So, you can go back to fucking whichever whore it is you’re fucking this week and leave me and mine alone.”
He laughs. “Touchy, touchy, brother. You can’t blame a man for being curious about a beautiful woman who’s been forbidden to every man for years. None of us have seen her besides you, so my curiosity is understandable.”
“I guess so, but you can take it elsewhere. She belongs to me, so she’s still forbidden to every man.”
The edge to his laugh now suggests I’ve pissed him off.
“When I become Pakhan, you do know I can demand your wife if I want to.”
I move forward so fast he barely has time to register I’ve moved. I’m up in his face now, ready to knock his teeth down his throat.
“I’d like to see you fucking try,” I seethe.
Ivan doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even flinch even though we’re not equally matched in stature. I’m all muscle and height, while he’s got the height but lacks in muscle. So, basically, he’s a fucking dead man if I get my hands on him.
“You think you could stop me?”
“You are not Pakhan yet,brother,” I spit. “If I get the job, there’ll be one hell of a shake-up.”
The one thing Father stated when he dropped the bomb on us about his plans was that we get to restructure the leadership the way we want. Ivan knows if I get the job, he’s not going to be anywhere near the elite.
I even plan to break tradition in every sense and appoint Sophia as the Sovietnik, not Ivan. In the Bratva, women don’t usually hold leadership roles, but she would have earned it. I think Father would want her to have it, too. Sebastian will be my Obshchak, so there would be no place for my brother except in one of the brigades. He won’t like that, so he’d most likely leave the fold.
“Stupid cunt. I’d bet you think that’s what’s going to happen.”
“Boys,” says a dainty voice from behind me before I can answer him.
It’s Sophia.
We both turn to meet the disapproving glare she’s casting our way. Her arms are folded over her chest, and her pale blue eyes narrow with displeasure.
“That’s enough,” she adds. Her Russian accent is always thicker when she’s furious. “It is inappropriate to behave like that right in the open where your employees can see you.”
“Mne zhal', Sophia,” Ivan says sorry in Russian and walks back the way he came without any further conversation.
Her face softens the moment he leaves, and she fixes her attention on me.
“Mne zhal', Sophia,” I say as well.
“Mikhail, I truly wish things were different between you and your brother. It’s not good to have family pitted against each other the way you are.”
I won’t bother to tell her the tension stems from him, not me. It was always him. It has been since we were children. Years from now, we’ll be old men fighting with our walking sticks and the fucking tension will still be there.
She’s a peacemaker looking to heal broken bonds, so I get it. This is just one bond she can’t heal.
“You know what he’s like, Sophia.”
“I do. But I try with the both of you.” She sighs. “All things aside, your father has now set up your individual meetings for the week after the wedding. You’re first.”
That meeting is about the company, not the brotherhood.
Right now, our father is the owner and Ivan and I have roughly the same responsibilities as joint C.E.O.s. That’s going to change, too, regardless of who gets to be Pakhan.
“Mine’s first?”
“Yes. He wants to speak to you first. Your brother last. Your meeting will be at the lake house. He didn’t give me a reason for that.”
