Considering my rebellious character, they’ll definitely kill me.

There’s no way in hell they’ll kick me out of the brotherhood that prospered in Dedushka’s time. He started this legacy, and I will continue to uphold it.

While Granduncle has been ruling, I’ve risen up in V Corp’s ranks. It’s the legitimate front of the brotherhood and funnels a lot of money that takes care of most of the tax business.

I snatched the executive director’s post from a greedy associate of the Vory a year ago. In such a short time, V Corp’s net profit grew by fifty percent, and it will continue to in the future.

Granduncle is the CEO, but it’s only in image. In reality, all the work falls on my shoulders.

I’ve never considered it a burden, though, since it’s my way to claim my place at their table. Granduncle began to proudly invite me to the Vory’s meetings due to the accomplishments I’ve been presenting to the brotherhood—but not all of them, apparently, since I wasn’t invited to this one.

Inhaling deeply, I stand in front of the dining room. Its double doors are rimmed with golden ornamentation, and I use the intricate design as an opportunity to meditate.

Right on, war. Here I come.

“Miss Sokolov.” The sound of my last name coming from my left stops me. I stare at Vladimir—or Vlad, as I like to call him.

He’s part of the elite group, a Sovietnik, which is essentially the main coordinator between the Pakhan and the four brigadiers. He plays an important role that keeps the peace between the four brigadiers and makes sure they bring in profit to the Vory.

Vlad is the only member of the elite group that I trust—or more like I trust his loyalty. He was brought in by Dedushka and rose in rank to become who he is today.

Like me, he wants to keep Dedushka’s name in the ruling position.

“Morning, Vlad.”

“It’s either Vova or Vlodya, miss. Don’t use American nicknames on me.” He speaks with a Russian accent, but it’s not as distinctive as everyone else in the brotherhood.

“I will use whatever I want.”

He grunts a response. He does that a lot, grunting and releasing breaths as responses. He’s brooding to a fault, and it especially shows when he expresses how much he really doesn’t like the American half in me or how that half addresses him.

Vlad is generally a grumpy but intense person who barks orders at his soldiers with a tone that’s only meant to be obeyed.

He also has the looks that go with his grumpy personality. I’m not short by any means, but he’s so tall and broad that he blocks my vision whenever he stands in front of me. He dwarfs his suit’s jacket, and his beard adds more to his intimidation factor.

“Now, move, Vlad. I have a meeting to attend.”

His small pale eyes remain the same, but he steps between me and the door. “You were not invited.”

“Still, I have something to say.”

“I think it’s better if you keep your words to yourself, miss.”

“Guess what, Vlad? I don’t care what you think.”

“Miss.”

“Vlad.” I meet his impenetrable gaze with my own.

“You don’t want to be inside.”

“Why not?”

“The four kings are there.”

“The more the merrier. They all need to hear this.”

He grunts. “You cannot embarrass the Vor in front of them. It’s a sign of weakness.”

“I know that, and it’s exactly why I try to not displease him in front of them, but if you think I will let them rot his mind while I stand by and say nothing, then you don’t know Rai Sokolov.”

“Rot his mind?”

“They want to have Anastasia. Granduncle told her to get ready for marriage, and do you know who’s behind this? Those four fucking kings, that’s who, because Granduncle wouldn’t want to marry her off.”

Vlad’s expression doesn’t change, but he says in a monotone tone, “No.”

“What do you mean by no? I can’t allow them to coerce Ana into marriage. She’s fucking twenty, a kid who doesn’t even understand the world yet and wants to continue studying. I will claw their eyes out before they put her into a wedding dress.”

Vlad stares down at me with what seems like condescension mixed with bemusement. “I’m sure you will.”

“You bet I will, so don’t stand there telling me no.”

“I meant no, as in Sergei won’t force her into this.”

“How would you know if neither you nor I are there, huh?”

“You are not allowed to weaken the boss, miss.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I throw a dismissive hand up at his stern tone. He reminds me of that fact every day.

He remains silent for a second, and I think he’ll fight me tooth and nail on this, but then he asks in a contemplative tone, “How about you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get married.”

“Get what?”

“You’re older—you can take a husband.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“This is, in fact, a perfectly sane solution. The only way to protect Anastasia and to continue ruling is to get married.”

“You think I haven’t thought about that? But any husband within the brotherhood will make me into his obedient tool. I would rather die first.”

“What if you can make him your obedient tool?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t take a husband to rule for you. Take a puppet you can rule through.”

“And you think such a man exists in the brotherhood? Every last one of them is hungry for power.”

“There are those who, like you, have other people ruling in the background on their behalf. You can just take that position.”

Oh. I have heard stories about that, but I always thought they were myths.

“And how would I be sure such men exist?”

“They do. I’ve encountered a few, and that’s how I came up with this plan.”

“I like the way you think, Vlad.”

He grunts and I smile. Even though he’s a little rough around the edges—okay, a lot—Vlad has my best interests in mind. If we can find someone who fits the criteria, then this can solve Ana’s problems and mine. I can push my puppet husband to the top and then, not only will I preserve my grandfather’s legacy, I will also protect Anastasia from any barbaric wedding.

“Any candidates in mind?” I ask Vlad with a coy smile.

“I will look into it and bring you complete files.”

I grab his chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best?”

“More than enough.” He pushes back, muttering under his breath, “Americans and their need to touch.”

“I heard that, and I’m as much of a Russian as you are, Vlad.”

His face remains the same. “If you go inside, it’s to tell Sergei you’re available for marriage.”

I am.

Am I, though?

I release a deep breath as memories of sinister blue eyes invade my head. At times, they’re the best part of a dream, and at others, they’re the most horrifying thing in a nightmare, the one thing that jolts me awake in the middle of the night, sweating, shivering, and shaking.