Page 8 of Lord of Passion

When my parents died, it became harder and harder to control my brothers. Without my father to oversee their "business" ventures, they grew more brazen.

I wish they had never come to New York to ask Alexsey for positions in the Morozov Bratva. If they'd stayed home, they would have been all right dabbling in minor drug sales and stolen weapons.

Every day, that shard of pain slices like glass, digging deeper into my heart when I think about what they had turned into in the end. Men who would betray their own cousin.

Forcing myself out of a dark round of rumination that never leads to anything good, I kiss Vasily's soft cheek. "I'm never going to complain about the money," I say. "Just out of spite, I'm happy to have kicked the feet out from under a couple of those guys. I have felt the distance from all the Morozov men."

Liria sits up, looking stricken. "You know Alexsey loves you! He was really happy that you would move here to be closer to us."

"I don't mean Alexsey," I say. To be honest, he's probably the only reason I haven't conveniently disappeared and ended up in the Hudson River. "I understand why they're suspicious, but being expected to prove myself every day is wearing on me. So yeah, kicking their ass in poker was completely delightful."

"Okay," she says, getting up to put Anya in the crib, settling her in her little sleep sack. "Back to the subject of Nikandr. I know he seems cold and extremely haughty. However, the man is smoking hot and he's talented as hell. Alexsey was telling me how happy the family has been with his job asSovietniksince he's taken over from Uncle Yuri..."

"So?" I shrug, handing her Vasily and helping wrestle him into his sleep sack.

"There wassomethingthere," she says, watching me carefully. "A spark between you and him. I could see it."

"That was in your imagination," I say sharply. "I met him earlier that night and he'd already politely dismissed me as someone not really important enough to talk to. Then his brother Andrey came over and pretty much cemented the fact that I am an untouchable."

Her brows draw together, always ready to do battle on behalf of her people, which I find deeply endearing. "Why, what did Andrey say?" she asks indignantly. "That man is the closest version of AI that a human can be, so don't let anything he says hurt your feelings. I don't think he's aware that a concept such as emotion actually exists, much less good manners."

"Oh, he was just careful to remind Nikandr of my brothers and what they'd done," I say, feeling that flush of humiliation again.

"Damn, I'm sorry," she says, enveloping me in her arms. "I know it cuts you every time you think about it, much less when someone brings it up."

I slump, appreciating the hug for a moment before we give the babies one last kiss each on their sleepy little faces and watch them curl around each other like Ying and Yang in the crib. Liria lowers the lights and we tiptoe out.

"You know," she says as we head downstairs, "maybe the idea of you buying a partnership in Hotel Lyric isn't such a bad idea? Didn't you say the hotel was already running in the black and the occupancy rate was insanely high?"

"It is," I agree happily. In fact, the Hotel Lyric was how Liria and Alexsey lured me here to New York in the first place.

***

On a visit six months ago, they insisted on taking me on a hardhat tour of the Morozov Bratva's newest boutique hotel. It was a beautiful ten-story brownstone with a rooftop garden and reception area that would be perfect for parties and weddings. As we walked through, I could see how well the designers had worked with the construction crew.

There were so many exquisite details, like the enormous, framed music scrolls used as art, antique instruments mounted in shadow boxes and, most magically to me, even the bathrooms "sang." The rainfall showerheads created a musical pattern as the water fell on strategically placed tile flooring.

I'm not the musician Liria is, but it was the most beautiful tribute that Alexsey could have created for her. When I returned two months ago, they had insisted on walking me through again, taking me to dinner at the hotel's restaurant, asking me questions about what I would improve, or what I thought could work better. I'd gotten so excited that I almost scribbled some notes out on the linen tablecloth before reaching for my phone instead. I'd looked up to see them both smiling meaningfully.

"What?" I asked, looking between them.

"The job as General Manager is yours if you want it," Alexsey said, leaning forward blue eyes warm in the candlelight. "We have two assistant managers who have stepped up, but none of the candidates for GM have been right."

Leaning back, I'd raised a suspicious brow. "They haven't been right, or you didn't want them to fit?"

"This hotel is yours," Liria said, eagerly grabbing my hand. "Alexsey may have designed it with me in mind. But it has all the elements that I know you love; small, but not too small. Elegant, but not stuffy. You were meant for this challenge and besides…" She'd ruthlessly laid on the pressure. "We want you here. I miss you every day."

"Don't you put that fake quiver in your lip," I said sternly. "Really, you have no shame."

Then, she delivered the killing blow. "The babies need to see their aunt Caroline. You're their godmother. I don't want them growing up without you."

"Oh, that was low," I said, deeply impressed. "You punched me right in the heart with that one."

She perked up instantly. "Yeah, I could hear you let out this little 'oof!' of air. It was majestic. Did it work?"

I looked at her. I looked at Alexsey. Then, around the beautiful dining room with a ribbon of music painted in gold that ran around the top of the room. It really did need to be centered about two-thirds of the way up the wall, though, for better viewing and the placement of the tables was…

Well, goddammit, they did have me. "This is nepotism," I said weakly.