1|A Win-win

"Absolutely not! We've talked about this, Papa!" Andrei Ivanov grunted irritably as he lowered his towering frame on the burgundy camelback sofa in the den of his ancestral home in Glen Eagles, north of Rock Castle.

Surprisingly, Pavel, the Ivanovs' longtime butler, dressed in a dark suit and not a hair out of place, remained unfazed by the tension in the room. The same way Andrei's father, Nikolai, sat unperturbed behind his vintage desk as he gazed back at him, "Yes, you will cancel your flight."

Massaging his temples to stave off a looming headache, Andrei explained—yet again—why he couldn't cancel his flight the following evening, citing every excuse he could think of. When that didn't work, he doubled down and lit a cigarette, taking long, deep puffs before addressing his father again in a much firmer tone, "You've known about my move to Moscow for a while now. It's happening, with or without your approval. I suggest you get on board fast!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that," Nikolai stubbornly refused, lacing his hands behind his head as he nonchalantly reclined in his seat. "I can't sign off on your little vacation—"

"It's not a little vacation. This is my life we're talking about!" Andrei said, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke through his nostrils.

"Your life is right here with me," countered Nikolai.

Seething, Andrei shook his head, "No, Papa, we agreed my stay in Rock Castle would only be for a year. I've done everything you've asked of me, appeased the investors, and made nice with all our business partners—"

Nikolai cut in as he sat up and steepled his hands, "And your hard work has not gone unnoticed."

"So, what is this then? Why are you trying to keep me here?" Andrei demanded as he rubbed his tired eyes. They'd been at it for over an hour now, and to say he was exhausted was putting it mildly. How a farewell dinner had turned into a battle of wills was beyond him. He didn't need his father's permission to move back to Moscow. But he'd hate leaving on a sour note.

"Drei, listen to me," Nikolai said, sounding just as drained. "I understand you have a life overseas, but I need you here."

"Need me here? For what exactly? The family runs like a well-oiled machine, and I can manage the company from our Moscow office," Andrei pushed back as he buttoned up his suit jacket, preparing to leave. He'd had enough of the back and forth, and they were clearly at a stalemate.

He'd barely reached the door when his father called after him.

"Would this make you stay?" he asked.

Reluctantly, Andrei turned back around just in time to see his father push a glossy black Aero Shipping folder across his desk, the file barely making a sound on the smooth Acacia wood.

He retraced his steps, stopping in front of the desk before picking up the folder, the tension leaving his face the longer his eyes remained on the document.

"Are you serious?" Andrei asked, looking up at his father when he could no longer keep his disbelief in check.

"Like a heart attack!" Nikolai chuckled, to Andrei's chagrin.

"Papa! A heart attack is hardly a laughing matter!"

"Lighten up, kid," said Nikolai with a small smile. Pointing at the folder in Andrei's hands, he continued in a serious tone. "It doesn't get better than that. Full control of Aero Shipping and all its subsidiaries."

Andrei could only nod in agreement, a thoughtful look in his eye as he sat down and weighed the offer. Complete control of Aero Shipping was enough incentive to cancel his one-way ticket out of Rock Castle. Hell, without his father's interference, he could take the company in an entirely new direction. He'd be a fool to turn him down—

"But there's a condition," Nikolai added, bursting the little bubble of excitement Andrei was almost floating on.

"Of course," he muttered, placing the folder on his lap. There were always conditions when it came to his father.

"What is the condition?" he asked with very little enthusiasm.

"Well, as you can see, I'm getting on in years, and with Aleksei in prison, this is clearly your cross to bear."

Intrigued by the vague sales pitch, Andrei sat up and gazed at his father, "What cross?"

"To continue our bloodline, of course!" Nikolai replied, picking up one of the daily newspapers from a thick pile beside his laptop.

"I'm sorry, what?" Andrei burst into uneasy laughter at this bizarre turn of their conversation.

"What's so funny?" Nikolai asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"Everything!" Andrei said. "You talking about bloodlines and crosses to bear. None of it makes sense!"

"I promise it will in a moment," Nikolai assured him with a shrewd smile as he looked over his shoulder and signalled to Pavel to hand Andrei an envelope.

Andrei reluctantly took it, surprised to find the seal flap, with the Petrovs' family insignia, broken. His father had clearly read the contents of the letter.

With dread roiling in his stomach, Andrei pulled out a fancy cream and gold card the size of a standard wedding invitation. He scanned it quickly, his face growing dark with anger the longer the words on the heavy paper floated in front of his eyes.

"What is this?" Andrei whispered, waving the invitation at his father. "What the hell is this?"

"This is what I call a win-win."

"This isn't a win-win! You've completely blindsided me!"

"Don't act surprised. You knew it was coming—"

"I never agreed to any of this!"

"Of course, you didn't," Nikolai nodded his head. "But with Aleksei languishing in prison now, you have to step in."

"So, what am I? Your substitute groom and your baby-making backup plan?"

"All I'm saying is that had you kept Aleksei out of trouble, we wouldn't be here right now. But you failed to fulfil your duty—"

"My duty? How? When I wasn't even around?" Andrei exploded at his father's words.

"My point exactly!" Nikolai retorted with the same fierceness. "If you were here, Aleksei would have had a good role model to learn from!"

Andrei gnashed his teeth, unable to believe the nonsense spewing from his father's lips. If the man hadn't chaired a board meeting at Aero Shipping earlier and charmed the pants off of the shareholders, he would have been so sure he was going senile.

It made no sense to him that he was constantly bearing the brunt of his father's wrath when it came to Aleksei's thoughtlessness. But then again, ever since Andrei could remember, his twin would always get into all sorts of trouble, and he, as the big brother, would have to step in and clean up the mess.

Aleksei's recklessness had gotten old fast, so when the opportunity to take over their overseas operation presented itself, Andrei grabbed it with both hands and never looked back.

He was happy in Moscow—well, as happy as one can be in a foreign country—running his family's various businesses, including a highly successful narco operation. He was even so close to diversifying their portfolio when his old man summoned him home two years ago, after Aleksei had bitten off more than he could chew when he shot Liam Anderson—

"—I think my offer is more than generous," said Nikolai, pulling Andrei back to their chat.

He snapped his fingers at Pavel again, and a moment later, a shiny tray with a fresh bottle of whiskey and two Swarovski crystal glasses appeared. Pavel poured them each a drink and left them alone.

Andrei took his glass to the window and gazed at the frozen pond in the backyard, where a wedge of geese seemed content to glide on the precariously thin ice.

For some reason, the image of a nimble Holly Anderson soaring on stage at the Mirage as a love-struck teen in Joseph Briggs' adaptation of Romeo and Juliet crossed his mind. He didn't even know why he'd gone to watch her damn show last night. He didn't want to. Heck, he hated ballet. But after the Andersons' first invitation, soon after they partnered up on the LUSSO deal, it had become customary for them to send him exclusive invites with box seats and all that shit. Like he couldn't afford to pay for any of it himself.

He didn't stay for the whole thing, of course. He had a business call with the Moscow office to finalise his move. So he didn't even know how impressive or thoroughly lacking Holly's performance was. But he knew she'd received the bouquet of peonies he'd sent her because Monique, his assistant, made sure of it.

Nothing less than peonies would do for the stuck-up Anderson prima donna. He'd learned this after the first show he ever attended, when Holly herself—not her assistant, manager or agent—sent him a handwritten thank you card for the bunch of peach roses he'd sent. He would have found the whole thing cute if it wasn't for her postscript nicely telling him to never send her roses again because they were so ordinary, and she was anything but ordinary.

From that moment on, and in the spirit of maintaining his business relationship with the Andersons, Andrei had made it his mission to send her peonies. Since he never received another snarky handwritten card from Holly after that, he assumed the flowers had met her remarkably high standards, so he'd just stuck with them—

"Andrei!" Nikolai bellowed, waving his glass at him. "Did you hear anything I said?"

Of course, Andrei hadn't heard shit. He was thinking about the youngest Anderson daughter, and all because of some damn geese gliding on an icy pond. But he nodded anyway and lit another cigarette.

"I still don't see why I have to get married and give you an heir just to get what's rightfully mine?" he muttered as he blew out a massive cloud of smoke and watched it float to the ceiling. "Just this past quarter alone, Aero's profits have more than doubled. I've managed to unbundle us from that bad deal with Dreams and brought in more revenue streams with the LUSSO deal."

"You killed Ethan Wilson and his wife," Nikolai reminded him.

"They had it coming. No one steals from me and gets away with it—"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Nikolai clapped his hands, smiling smugly as he pointed at him. "A wife and kid will soothe that awful temper of yours and quell your thirst for blood."

"I don't want a wife and kid!" Andrei raged. He knew how to sell drugs, count money, and kill people. He just didn't know how to be a husband and father. Not exactly his fault there. After all, he never had a shining example of a good marriage. His own father had killed his mom in cold blood. Shot her and the pool boy to death when he found them in his bed, screwing their brains out in the middle of the day.

Andrei and Aleksei were at boarding school when it happened. The teachers had tried to protect them from the brutal truth, but the other boys, especially the older ones, weren't so nice. Every chance they got, they taunted them about their mom being a whore.

If there was anything Andrei took from that bloody part of his childhood, it was to never make surprise home stops in the middle of the day or trust a woman.

Sure, he adored women, but he didn't trust them. Maybe because they were a nuisance ninety-nine percent of the time. But now, he was being strong-armed into doing the one thing he swore he'd never do when his parents' marriage ended in bloody murder.

"This is bullshit," he said as he paced the room. "You ran Aero for many years without a wife—"

Nikolai interjected, arguing, "I already had you, boys. I didn't need a wife."

"I can still run every aspect of Aero without a wife, just like you."

Determined to move ahead with his agenda, Nikolai brushed him off with an impatient flick of his hand. He pushed an A4-size manilla envelope across his desk. "This is Veronika's résumé. The Petrovs will be here in six weeks. I don't need to tell you how important this meeting is. Your union with Veronika is our gateway to Asia and will strengthen our alliance with the Bratva."

Andrei glared at the envelope, refusing to look inside. "Does it have to be the Petrovs?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my wife. Does she have to be a mail-order bride? I have a girlfriend, you know!"