4

Anatoli

I seldom gave a shit what others thought of me. Every plan I made revolved around how it would impact my businesses and further strengthen my forces.

Masha didn't apply to any of that. She couldn't fit in with any part of my world. Any chance of our even forming a father-daughter bond was over with. With how she had been conditioned to hate me from the Volkovs, I didn't even give a fuck about her coming here.

It was callous but true.

I heaved out another deep exhale. "I just don't give a fuck," I muttered. I had too many other things to concentrate on.

"You don't give a fuck about what?" Gunsyn asked as he strode into my office, catching the tail end of my remark. He moved quickly and with ease, showing that natural athleticism he had, proving he'd never lose that confidence I'd taught him to always show.

Tall, strong, and proud, he was my right-hand man. My lethal and calculating killer who never failed to put family first.

I gave a fuck about him. I always would. Alongside my nephews, Sergei and Roman, Gunsyn played a significant role in the organization as one of the uppermost leaders in our family.

They were the ones I depended on. They were the ones I looked out for. Ones I cared deeply about—unlike this bratty, bitter distant daughter I'd have to put up with now.

Gunsyn raised his brows, expecting an answer. He exuded power. Intelligence. Grit.

Not malicious hatred, which I damn well knew to expect from the daughter I'd never met.

With that one phone call I'd just taken, it was clear the days of our "good old boys' club" would be over.

"Father?" Gunsyn prompted when I stared at him.

"I just received a call."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, at ease as he stared me right back down. Too trained to ask stupid questions and demonstrating his patience, he waited me out to explain, knowing that if it was something he needed to know, I'd tell him.

"A call from Moscow," I added.

He shrugged.

"It appears your sister is coming back to live with us."

That got a reaction out of him. He huffed a wry laugh. "Coming back?" he asked sardonically. "When was she here in the first place?"

He had a good point. She had been born in Moscow and neither of us had met her. Gunsyn had been almost thirteen when she was born. A birth I only knew about from pictures and a verified paternity test.

"She's coming here," I corrected.

"Why?"

"Her uncle passed away."

He rolled his eyes. "And no one else in the fucking Volkov family can take her in?"

"No one else is left. No one with wealth or power to dictate what should happen to her." It was my turn to shrug. "While it's not my fault the family is now destitute because of their piss-port management of finances, she is my child. It'll be up to me to provide for her now."

"And I bet Olga will be rolling over in her fucking grave," he replied.

No love was lost between my son and my dead wife. Since his birth, she'd avoided him. As soon as he was delivered, she ran off to Moscow, leaving me to raise him on my own. When she was expected to visit me with her parents, she avoided even seeing her son, totally uninterested in him. All to fuck me by accident and run back home once more, where she lived until she killed herself.

"Whose grave?" Sergei asked as he entered the room, just on time for the meeting I'd called with them. Roman walked in after him, straightening his tie and looking a little disheveled—likely coming straight from one of the dancers he liked to fuck.

"Olga's," Gunsyn said, never referring to his mother by anything other than her name. She never had been a mother to him. "It sounds like Masha is moving here."

Sergei furrowed his brow. A more serious man than the others, he never looked happy or at peace. This news only added to his natural appearance of annoyance. "Why?"

"Her guardian died and she has no one else to provide for her," I explained.

"Fuck. She's coming here?" Roman cringed. "What the hell are you going to do with her hanging around?"

I shrugged. I hadn't thought that far ahead, too racked with the old resentment that surfaced any time I thought of my wife. Of how she hated me and the idea of a marriage I hadn't cared to enter either. I was willing to do my duty and make the most of it, yet she hadn't.

All she'd done was shy away and hide, hate me and act like I was the devil. She'd abandoned my son.

Fuck you and all you've done. Wishing her ill wouldn't change a damn thing now. I'd be stuck with the inconvenience of my daughter who'd loathe being here. Having a woman among us would be a big adjustment. Trying to welcome someone who didn't want to be here felt like a headache.

"Maybe I can find a tutor or nanny or something to keep her out of my way." I sighed, already committed to procrastinating on the details of Masha's arrival. "I've got too many other things to worry about instead."

"We do," Gunsyn said. "I'm sure you can hire someone to babysit her."

I smirked, unamused and unsurprised that he wouldn't care about a sibling coming into his life. I doubted he even saw her as a relative.

"Because I've got two men bringing in a Giovanni spy as we speak." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "They found him near the warehouse in the district near the docks."

I gritted my teeth. "Another fucking spy there?" Shifting my ire from my daughter to the Italian Mafia family was instantaneous. I was sick and tired of Roberto Giovanni fucking with my turf.

"And I've got a lead on where one of the Popov lieutenants is trying to sabotage one of our places," Sergei said, crossing his arms like the rigid and tough soldier he was.

This was how it was. Work, work, work. It never ended and it was all-consuming.

And I'm supposed to make time for my daughter?

Welcoming her when she won't even want to be here?

I had zero time for anything but running my empire.

I tipped my chin up at Roman, noticing he hadn't reported in with his current issues of the day. "What about you?" I didn't micromanage them, but with all of us having our apartments and offices within one large city block, we were always up-to-date and nearby, always together as a team.

"I was, uh..." He tugged at his collar. "I've been otherwise preoccupied this morning."

Gunsyn laughed once. "By the mark you got right there," he said, pointing at Roman's neck, "you either got mauled by a fucking monster or found a woman who can do some magical things with her mouth."

I rolled my eyes, standing to go with them to interrogate the Giovanni idiot brought in for questioning. "Preoccupied, huh?" I teased my playboy of a nephew.

Hell, I was occupied with so many things, with keeping this empire running among the threats from enemies, that I couldn't even count on making time for my estranged daughter's arrival.

Thinking about making time for a good fuck or the company of a smart woman would be even further down my list of priorities.

I had no time for anything but running this organization, and as I left with the three of them following me, I knew that wouldn't be changing anytime soon. I wouldn't change anytime soon.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

Not ever.

I shook my head and wondered if I would ever feel like I could just be and breathe.