I jolted out of sleep as the plane's wheels hit the runway. It was bright outside the window, just after one in the afternoon in Barcelona. It was strange to think that I had just flown roughly 3000 kilometers from Moscow and only changed two time zones.

I felt more exhausted than I should, although I supposed I hadn't been sleeping well lately. Not since…

I swallowed hard, reminding myself of my resolve not to think of everything that had happened in Moscow in the lead-up to my departure. The failed mission, my father's disappointment—all of that was behind me now.

It was easier to forget as I walked out into the bright sunshine and the warm air. This time of year in Moscow, you couldn't go outside without a heavy coat on. In Barcelona, I hardly even needed my sweater.

I found my limo and got silently into the back seat. Uncle Evgeni had made it clear that I was meant to come directly to the Volkov family headquarters, some building in the center of the city, immediately upon arrival—but I knew that there wouldn't be hugs and happiness at this family reunion. No, this was going to be more like a grueling business meeting. He would lay down the law: things I could and couldn't do while I was there in Barcelona.

I sneered, just thinking about it.

“Should I show you where-“ the driver began, once we'd arrived.

“I'll be fine,” I interrupted shortly. These older buildings tended to be a bit of a maze, but I sincerely doubted I was going to get so lost that I needed someone to hold my hand and guide me through the place like I was some wayward child on the first day of school.

I walked around inside, aimlessly following the corridors deeper into the building and keeping my ears open for Evgeni's booming voice. It didn't take long to find him.

He was yelling at someone over the phone as I walked into his office, and I dropped into a chair across the desk from him, adopting a bored expression while I waited for him to finish up whatever business he was doing. It didn't sound very important.

Evgeni narrowed his eyes at me once he had finally hung up. “It's customary to wait outside until you're invited in,” he informed me.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but he must have seen the look on my face. “You know, that attitude of yours is the reason you're here,” he reminded me.

“I know, I know,” I sighed. “Let me paraphrase your little speech for you, Uncle. You want to remind me that I'm on thin ice while I'm here in Barcelona—that I'd better not make any rash decisions like I did in Moscow. Then you're going to remind me that the only reason I'm here is because you did my father a personal favor—because it was either ship me off here to Barcelona to be with the family or else totally exile me from the family life forever. This is my one shot at redemption, and I shouldn't screw it up.”

Evgeni stared at me over his steepled fingers. “I want to make it clear that-”

“Oh, quit posturing,” I said, rolling my eyes at last. “You know you can't get rid of me. You need my connections for the Aroztegi deal. You want that estate so badly that you can probably practically taste it.” I sneered. “It would be a pretty addition to the Volkov family holdings too, wouldn't it? Perfect location, right in the middle of Audaz territory. And you're never going to get it without me.”

“You have a lot of nerve,” Evgeni said, shaking his head. “Too much fire, just like your father.” He paused and then leaned forwards deliberately. “You'd better get those ideas out of your head right now, though. You're not the only person with contacts in this city. I don't need your help on this. As you said, this is just a favor to your father—you'd do well to remember that.”

I stared right back at the older man for a long moment. He was waiting for me to blink first, to look away, but I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

After a long moment, a faint smile crossed Evgeni's face, and I wondered if I had somehow just managed to pass some test. He looked down and shuffled around some papers on his desk. “Impetuous brat,” he muttered under his breath. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Do you need me to give you more work while you're here, or is the Aroztegi deal enough for you to make a mess of for now?”

I snorted and stood up, sensing that this initial meeting was over. “The Aroztegi deal is enough for me to finish up right now,” I told him. “In fact, I was planning on visiting my contacts this afternoon and seeing what progress we can make. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.”

I meant it as a deliberate barb, reminding my uncle of the fact that he was practically just a figurehead of the family now. Unless I was very much mistaken, he was never the one to actually go out and do any of the dirty work. That was why he needed people like me, as much as he might claim otherwise.

I was just lucky I had made a good list of contacts there, and at the perfect time, too. I still didn’t know exactly how things had fallen so perfectly into my lap. My friends and I had been looking forward to that cruise for months, and with everything that had happened in Moscow with the family business, I almost never went. But in the end, I had decided that getting some space from my father and the rest of the guys in Moscow was just what I needed.

I’d met Ignasi, a Barcelona businessman, on the second evening of the cruise, and we’d hit it off right away. When I’d mentioned that I was considering purchasing property in Barcelona—there had already been rumors of shipping me off to stay with Evgeni by that point—Ignasi had been more than helpful.

And he had a lot of clout in Barcelona. He could pull the strings on any of the beachfront properties that I might covet—as long as I was willing to pay the price. And when I found out that he had his hands on one of the properties that Evgeni was eyeing, well.

Of course, I wasn’t stupid. Ignasi was one of the more powerful members of Audaz, a local Catalan gang—the Volkov family’s main rivals in the city in regards to real estate and deals. If Evgeni knew I was doing business with Ignasi, he’d have a fit.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained. History between the Volkovs and Audaz had shown that violence wasn’t going to get us anywhere, and the two gangs had been at a standoff for far too long. But Evgeni just didn’t know any other way. He wasn’t willing to explore his options—and that was no way to run a business.

I didn’t want to cause waves, but I did want to secure my place in Barcelona, at least for now. Maybe if I could turn things around, really show my worth here, I could get myself sent back to Moscow in a year or two. I wouldn’t mind spending a year or two on the beach, but Russia would always be my home.

I turned the corner and bumped headlong into Nikolai. My cousin and I were nearly the same age, but he’d been in Barcelona for a lot longer than I had—he claimed he missed Russia, but he had never really belonged there.

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed at me. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the disgraced cousin,” he said, a sneer on his face.

I rolled my eyes. “You got sent to Barcelona a lot sooner than I did,” I reminded him. “After all, you just weren’t up to the pressure and the fast pace of the syndicate in Russia. Never could cut it there.”

Nikolai’s fists clenched at his sides, and I laughed. “See?” I said, nodding towards his closed hands. “You know that being in the mob is all about being subtle, hiding your emotions. You never were much good at that, though, were you? Always so easily baited. So easily swayed. You were always too much of a liability.”

“You destroyed three lucrative arms deals with your own lack of subtlety,” Nikolai said snidely. “Don’t think we don’t all know why you’re here.” He leaned in close. “And things have been going well for us lately, so if anything should happen to change that…” He trailed off ominously, and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes again.

“Don’t try to threaten me,” I counseled him. “You’re not scary, and there’s nothing that you could do to me.”

“Oh really?” Nikolai asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “You don’t have any contacts in this city except for the family. I doubt you really have any sort of lead on a real estate deal at all. And once Evgeni finds out the way that you really treat business…” He shook his head. “Don’t think I don’t remember the night we were supposed to close the Vasiliev deal. You showed up so plastered that you could hardly walk straight, let alone talk. You were the laughing stock of the room.”

I felt anger flare hot inside of me, and I wanted to lunge at him, to punch him or maybe to claw that smirk off his face.

But I remembered what Evgeni had said about being on thin ice, and I remembered how much I wanted to go back to Moscow. I couldn’t start out my time here in Barcelona in a brawl with my stupid cousin. It just wasn’t worth it.

I took a step back, putting my hands out to either side. “You want to show me what you’re made of Nikolai, show me how good you are at negotiating—that’s fine. You show me. But when I bring in Oasis and Playa—you know, the two hottest beach clubs in the city—I want you to be there to see me shake hands with our Uncle Evgeni.”

Nikolai stared at me for a long moment and then started laughing. “Oasis and Playa?” he asked incredulously. “That’s your big plan? Well, good luck, I guess. You’ll need.” He narrowed his eyes. “And Oasis and Playa aren’t the hottest clubs in the city. You can be forgiven for having the wrong information, having just arrived—but Ritmo is the hottest club in the city. And we already own that one.”

I shrugged expansively. “All I can tell you is that Uncle Evgeni seemed very interested in the possibility of getting his hands on Playa especially,” I told him, even though I knew I was probably giving away too much of my plans. I just couldn’t stand the smug, patronizing way he was looking at me.

Nikolai shrugged in response and stepped around me. “Good luck,” he said again.

“Why, thank you, cousin,” I said sweetly in response, even though I knew they were all hoping for me to fail.

The truth was, I didn’t want to be there any more than they wanted me there—but I couldn’t let them know that. All I could do was prove that I could turn things around. All I needed was that one, perfect deal.

With that in mind, I strode quickly outside, glad not to run into any more of my family members, and headed for the address that Ignasi had scrawled on a cocktail napkin for me.