As Yafon stood stoically in front of Glazov’s desk, he was careful to keep his expression neutral. Why had the Pakhan called this meeting? Glazov’s steely glare only served to set Yafon’s nerves on edge.

The Pakhan was known for using silence to his advantage in moments like this, by waiting and watching before saying what was on his mind. He was a student of human nature. Silence was a tool. It made people uncomfortable; they would fill the silence if given enough of it.

Glazov’s taut, chiseled features were at odds with his relaxed posture as he leaned back in his ornate desk chair and contemplated his guest. It was as if he knew something Yafon didn’t and, in this case, it was true.

“There is a question I have been meaning to ask you, Yafon,” Glazov said smoothly, his eyes narrowing as he steepled his fingers in front of his chest.

“Yes, Pakhan.”

“When did you plan on telling me you were fucking my sister?” Glazov asked, his face as cold and unyielding as stone.

Yafon’s jaw went slack and blood thundered in his ears. How in the hell had Glazov found out what was going on behind closed doors? Had Vladimira told him? Somehow, he doubted it. He decided it was probably best that he never know where Glazov got his information.

Vladimira had been adamant that they not say anything to her brother, insisting that no one had ever been good enough for her in Glazov’s eyes. She didn’t want Yafon to be caught in the Pakhan’s crosshairs. And yet, here he was.

“Sir, this is much more than a tryst. I don’t see Vladimira as just some woman I’m fu--, um, sleeping with.” He took a deep breath, summoning the courage to say what he had yet to say out loud to anyone. “I’m going to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

Novak’s head jerked up and he stopped twirling that infernal Russian coin between his fingers. Sleeping with Vladimira was one thing, but marrying her? Novak couldn’t help but wonder how long this had been going on. Even more so, he wondered how long Glazov had known and why he hadn’t mentioned it. Then again, he of all people knew Glazov’s style was to hold his cards close to the vest.

Yafon gathered his thoughts for this unexpected conversation. Glazov’s expression hadn’t changed. Still impossible to read after all these years. It was true; his poker face was the best in the business. Novak, however, bristled with restless energy as he looked from one man to the other, waiting to see how this moment was going to play out. And Glazov did not disappoint.

 “Then I guess you need to get your ass on my private jet and go get her. There can’t be a wedding without a bride.” Okay, he’s being sarcastic, but he hasn’t come over the desk yet which means I may live through this, Yafon thought to himself.

Yafon scowled and seemed to search for words, finally saying, “My loyalty is to Bratva, always. I would never leave my Pakhan, not for any woman.”

Glazov blew out a deep breath as he briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your loyalty never goes unnoticed, Yafon. You’re not leaving me. You’re going to claim your future wife.”

“If she’ll marry your ass,” Novak snickered. Glazov ignored his cousin’s smart-ass comment. It was par for the course where Novak was concerned.

Yafon shifted on his feet. He remained focused on Glazov even as his own neck became flushed. “I have…admired your sister for many years--” he began.

“Really,” Glazov drawled, arching an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Any fool could see that, Yafon. Go on.”

“Yes. Well. It is new, this, um…” he stammered as he searched for the right words to explain his predicament.

“The fucking?” Novak offered helpfully. Yafon closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath as Glazov directed a baleful stare at his cousin.

“Novak, let him finish,” Glazov said quietly, turning his attention back to the man who had so thoroughly captured his sister’s attention.

“As I was saying, sir. I have held your sister in the highest regard for many years. We have only just recently acknowledged the depth of our…affection for each other. However, she will not have me. She says Bratva comes first, always, and that a relationship would be a distraction she could ill afford.”

“Yes, that sounds like something Vladimira would say,” Glazov sighed, shaking his head. “You have both devoted your lives to Bratva and that will not change. You are a fortunate man; I see no reason for you not to have it all.”

“Thank you. She is quite a woman, your sister, sir.”

“Indeed. Well, I will leave you to figure out the details. I will say this, though: a woman like Vladimira will only respond to a show of strength. If you approach her tentatively, you will fail.”

“Awkward…” The sing-song murmur came from Novak, of course.

“Cousin, shut the fuck up!” Glazov barked. Novak held up his hands in surrender, but a smirk teased his lips as he resumed working the coin back and forth between his fingers.

“Of course, don’t be an asshole about it,” Glazov continued, his jaw clenching when Novak cleared his throat loudly. “You must pick your moment to show her…tenderness, that sort of thing. But be clear in explaining how things will be between you.

“Yafon, I want my sister to be happy. I have long thought the two of you were a match that made sense, and I am pleased to see some progress at long last. Vladimira will be assuming a public role as it pertains to the oversight of our flagship jewelry store, and will be a key player on a larger scale behind the scenes as well. I’d like you to work with her—in fact, I insist. And I expect you to protect her with your life.”

Novak laughed, “Shit, she’ll be protecting him. She’s fucking lethal.”

Glazov rolled his eyes, as if looking heavenward for help. He spared a glance at his cousin, impatience flaring in his flat, cold eyes. “Interrupt me again, Novak and, I swear on the souls of my grandchildren, I will end you.”

He directed his next words to Yafon. “The two of you can decide where and when you fuck and if you want to get married. But I speak from experience, Yafon: you seem to know what you want. So. Take. What. Is. Yours. Now,” he said as he turned his attention to his laptop screen, “go get her. The jet is fueled up and ready to leave as soon as you can get to the airstrip.” When Yafon got to the door, Glazov issued a quiet warning: “Oh, and Yafon. Never fucking hide anything from me. I will find out. I always do.”

Yafon turned and locked eyes with his boss, his only answer a grim, “Yes, my Pakhan. Understood.”

Novak waited until he was gone to speak. “What the hell? How long have you known?”

“I’ve watched them circle each other for years. It was obvious during the wedding celebration that things had progressed.”

Novak wiggled his fingers in the air and made a ghostly sound. “The almighty Pakhan knows all, sees all, and understands all.”

“Fuck you, Novak.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you with a ten-foot pole, cousin. So, why didn’t you tell me?”

Glazov could sense the underlying hurt beneath Novak’s sarcasm. “I wanted to confirm his intentions. And now I have. The rest is up to him.” He grinned as he observed, “Lucky for him, you and I have led by example. She will put up a fight, no doubt, but Yafon is relentless. I have given my blessing so his path is clear before him. As far as I am concerned, she is already his, whether she knows it or not.”

“What are you going to do with the fire bug?”

“He’s working with Roksana and Oleg on something.”

“What?”

“Oh, she’s worked up over a dogfighting ring some Sinaloan gangbangers are running. They’re cooking up meth and selling it over in the Okolona area. I have taken an interest in the situation because they’re fighting Escondido’s efforts to take over and fill the power vacuum Santiago left behind. The way I see it, if we are successful, we will operate from a position of strength with the cartel. Escondido will be…appreciative of our efforts. There is much at stake. If anybody can take over and overhaul the clusterfuck Santiago left in his wake, it’s him. It’s going to take brains and business savvy to turn the cartel around. You know my view on this sort of thing: fire power and bravado”—

Novak finished for him”—does not a gangster make.”

“Precisely. We would benefit from a peace treaty with him. He’s got the finesse to make the Sinaloan cartel what it should have been all along if Santiago hadn’t been such a fuck-up: a well-oiled machine that actually works, rather than a bunch of bumbling renegades killing each other off.”

“Ah, the elusive Escondido. He’s finally going to come out of hiding?”

“Oh, I’ve known who he is for a long time.” Glazov chuckled, eyes twinkling as he mimicked Novak’s earlier actions, wiggling his fingers. “Because…motherfucker, I am The Great Pakhan.”