you are my family. You don’t have to thank me for helping you.”
She smiled and leaned back in her chair. “Do you remember when we met?”
The question caught me off guard, but I smiled in nostalgia. “Of course.”
Tatiana had been the secretary for the Bratva’s legit business front, but her brilliance with numbers and strategy had been wasted. When I had invited her into the shadier sides of business, she hadn’t hesitated.
We had both been so young, so eager to prove ourselves. In the early days, it had just been Tatiana, Artyom and I. A filthy but ambitious trio who had enough bloodthirstiness and intelligence in our blood to build our own empire.
“Remember how young we were?” Tatiana repeated my thoughts. “We thought we were on top of the world.”
“And now we are.”
She smiled warmly. “And now we are.” She traced the details of the chair. “Some of us are married, or parents. Not those dirty kids running around the streets of Moscow anymore.”
“We’re much cleaner now,” I mused.
“Do you ever miss it?” Tatiana wondered. “That freedom, that...energy?”
I leaned back in my chair, assessing her. “No. I look back at those times with fondness but no longing. Do you, Tanya?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes.” Her voice softened. “But not for the reasons you think.”
The wistfulness in her expression and tenderness to her tone made me ask, “Tanya, is everything okay?”
Tatiana smiled at me, but it felt forced. “Of course. I’m sorry. Lately, I’ve just been feeling my mortality.”
“You don’t need to anymore,” I assured her. “Elena has miraculously cured you.”
“It is miraculous,” she agreed. “She said the tonic would be like putting pressure to a wound until she made the cure for the real illness, but I feel fantastic. The sickness is gone.”
“I am beyond relieved to hear that.” And I was. Even if meant Elena could very possibly leave me.
“If it is not too much trouble...” I sent her a look that implied nothing was too much trouble; She laughed. “Can I please be checked by a doctor? Just for Dmitri’s—and Elena’s—peace of mind.”
“Of course you can. I will have one here before the end of the day.”
Tatiana smiled, but her lips suddenly fell, and she peered down at her stomach. “Oh, Nikola, what a big kick.” She grinned up at me, pure delight radiating from her every pore. “I think she’s saying hello to her Uncle Kostya.”
“I say hello back,” I murmured.
I was excited to have another baby in the house. Anton brought much needed life and vitality to this family, reminding us of innocence in our darkest moments. Another child could only be another blessing.
Until my niece became a teenager. Then war rules may apply—especially in regard to teenage boys.
I took another sip of tea.
“Did you find anything interesting in the vault?” she asked.
“A few things, but Rifat will find much more than I could ever,” I replied. “It is funny how much the Falcones spied on their allies.”
Tatiana huffed. “That’s mafia loyalty for you. Everybody’s friends until it’s time to be enemies.”
That made me laugh softly. “Indeed.”
Suddenly, my phone buzzed to life. Natasha’s ID popped up, a picture of her as a child dressed up as a dragonfly.
Tatiana peered over the table. “I’ll go now.” She knew Natasha’s contempt for her.
“Thank you for the tea.”
When she closed the door softly behind her, I answered Natasha.
“Uncle Kostya?” she asked. I could hear the sounds of Moscow behind her, the honking of cars and rushing of wind. It sounded like she was on the move through the streets, most likely up to no good.
“Natasha, where are you?”
“Just going for a walk.” The cheekiness in her tone implied she was doing a little bit more. “I just called you quickly to give you some—WATCH OUT, ASSHOLE! —good news.”
“Can it not wait until you’re off the road?” I asked.
Natasha breathed heavily, muttering something about stupid drivers, before answering, “No, no. It’s important,” she assured me. “I did some digging into the woman I told you about. The toothless one.”
“I recall.”
“And I rang Nanny Anya. She said that it was the woman’s husband who killed her. He was a bit of a psycho—if you couldn’t tell.” I could hear the automated voice of the train station echoing on her end.
“Natasha, are you on the train?”
She laughed. “You sound like a snob.”
“I am,” I agreed. “But I also understand you’re much too vulnerable to be on the train by yourself. Your father let you out?”