Page 7 of Devil’s Reign

“What do you think, Vanya?” Aleksei’s voice cuts through my spiral.

Both my brothers are staring at me, waiting.

“If Dima is that worried, then we should consider pushing our own mayoral candidate forward earlier than scheduled.” Years of practice have made my poker face impenetrable, but I don’t miss the subtle shift in Aleksei’s expression; he knows something is up with me.

“Thank you,” Dima says emphatically. “Taking preemptive measures won’t hurt. This isn’t the time to be arrogantly dismissive of potential threats.”

He’s not wrong. Underestimating enemies—even seemingly insignificant ones—is how empires fall.

“I’ll handle the arrangements,” I say, already taking out my phone and typing in my password. “We’re going with James Salvatore, right?” I glance at them both for confirmation before pulling up Salvatore’s number.

Meet me at Zvezda in thirty minutes. Come with your partners. It’s time to deal with them.

3

MELANI

“Can I serve the drinks?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Too eager. Desperate, even. But I can’t help myself. Not when the opportunity is right there, dangling in front of me.

Nadia pauses mid-motion, her fingers hovering over the whiskey bottles and crystal tumblers she’s been fussing over for the past five minutes. She’s treating this order like a sacred ritual, polishing each glass until it sparkles, choosing specific bottles of premium brandy with the care of someone defusing a bomb.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she had a crush on one of the brothers. That might be crazy, but I can’t shake the way she refused to let any of the bartenders touch their order, how she insisted on handling it all herself. She blamed the opening rush, but that excuse feels thin. Sure, people are already streaming into Zvezda, but we literally just opened, so it’s not like there’s a packed crowd yet.

She narrows her eyes at me briefly as she transfers the pristine tumblers and expensive bottles onto a silver tray. “I don’t think so.”

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to talk back to my direct boss on my very first shift. But damn it, I want to take the drinks to them so badly. Those three men are the reason my brother has a scarred P carved into his wrist. They’re the reason he’s missing. God, I hope he’s okay.

Logically, Luciano couldn’t have had the chance to work directly with any of the brothers—he was too low on the chain, just an errand boy—but they must know something about him. Must have records, information, anything. It’s their organization, after all. And I’m desperate.

“I could take the tray with you, then,” I try to negotiate. “Help you serve them.”

I could use this opportunity to get the measure of them up close and study them. Maybe even eavesdrop on their conversations if I’m careful and lucky.

Nadia is already shaking her head before I finish speaking. “Absolutely not. You just started working here tonight, and the Petrovs are ruthless. You don’t want to make a mistake in front of them this soon. Trust me.”

“Or what? They’d fire me?” I grin at her even though I’m only half joking. If the rumors are true—and in my gut, I know they are—getting fired would be the kindest punishment the Petrovs could deliver. I could lose a finger. A hand. Disappear like Luciano. I suppress the shudder trying to crawl up my spine.

“You don’t know who they are,” Nadia says cryptically, not even cracking a smile as she lifts the tray and walks away with it.

Yes, I do know exactly who they are. But I’ll bide my time. I’ll have more opportunities to get close to the Petrovs—or at least Ivan Petrov—before the night is over. My attention drifts towards the direction of his office. Now would be the perfect time. While he’s occupied with his brothers, distracted by whatever business they’re conducting, I could slip up there, poke around, find⁠—

“Hey, new girl!”

I’m already moving towards the stairs, not registering that someone’s calling me until a hand closes over my shoulder. I flinch and whirl around, fists raised. “Whoa.” The guy jerks his hands up, eyes going wide. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you like that.” His tone is careful, almost embarrassed. “You, uh… You spook easy.”

Heat floods my cheeks. I force my hands down, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Sorry. Hi.”

He looks to be around my age, maybe a year or two older, with military-style hair, bushy brows, and surprisingly long dark lashes that frame guileless hazel eyes. His uniform matches mine, so at least that explains why he’s back here—another server. I’m proven right when he continues, “Nadia told me you’d be shadowing me tonight. I was just trying to get your attention so we could get started, and I don’t know your name yet.”

I nod. “Right. I’m Mel.”

“Nice to meet you, Mel. I’m Jack.” He extends his hand, and I shake it briefly, keeping the contact minimal. “You’re lucky. My first room is with a group of regulars tonight, a small gathering of friends, and they’re pretty tame compared to what we usually get here.” He turns and starts walking towards one of the second-floor VIP lounges. I follow close behind, my curiosity piqued despite everything else going on.

Whatever I’m expecting when he opens the door, it’s definitely not this. Three stunning women lounging together like modern-day goddesses, all in their late twenties maybe, their physical differences only emphasized by how close they’re sitting. A curvy redhead with a neckline so deep my eyes almost bug out—she has to be at least an F-cup. Next to her, a dark-haired beauty with a much leaner frame, her bust even smaller than my B-cup. And on the other side, a blonde with impossibly long legs stretched out like she knows exactly what they do to people.

Jack said they’re friends, but the way they lean into one another screams an intimacy that goes way beyond friendship. That impression only deepens the longer I look. There’s an air of decadence clinging to them—from their sexy, unmistakably expensive clothes to the jewelry flashing at their wrists, throats, and ears. The blonde even has a nose ring that glints like pure gold.

I hover awkwardly behind Jack while he introduces us. The blonde catches my eye, winks, then crooks a finger at me. My brows knit in confusion, but Jack seems to understand, because he steps aside, giving the women an unobstructed view of me. I feel weirdly exposed. Like I’m being sized up.