Page 60 of The Bratva Sinner

“Isn’t it?” He jabs a finger at my chest. “My operations have gotten hit ever since you started a war with the Albanians. They know that hurting me hurts you. They’re attacking the bratva.”

“You have plenty of enemies out here,” I point out. “This could be anyone.”

“It’s not anyone, though. It’s retaliation for your bullshit.” He rubs his jaw. I can’t see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but I imagine he’s glaring at me. “You married some girl you don’t know, and now, we’re all paying for it.”

“She needed protection.”

“So do a thousand other girls! You don’t marry them!” He’s shouting now, and several construction workers turn to look. He waves them off. “Get back to work!”

I look past him at the construction site. Even half-finished, I can tell the building will be impressive. Nikolai has always been good at building empires, making money, and establishing himself as someone who matters. He channels the darkness into something that makes money.

“Come on.” Some of the anger drains from his voice. “I’ll show you what we’re building.”

We walk through the site, wearing hard hats and avoiding equipment and workers. Nikolai explains the layout, including the casino floor, the hotel towers, and the restaurants and shops. It’s as massive as it is ambitious.

“This is good work,” I tell him honestly. “You’re doing well here.”

“Better than well.” There’s pride in his voice. “By next year, this will be one of the biggest attractions on the Strip. We’re talking hundreds of millions in revenue.”

“Legitimate revenue.”

He smirks. “Mostly legitimate.”

We climb to the top floor and look out over the Vegas sprawl. From here, we can see everything: the old casinos, the new developments, and the desert stretching beyond the city limits.

“Mom would have loved this,” Nikolai says quietly.

I haven’t let myself think about our mother in a while.

“Yeah,” I manage. “She would have.”

“She always wanted us to be successful. To build something that was ours that had nothing to do with Dad.” He pauses. “She wanted us to be legitimate. To leave the violence behind.”

“We’re trying.”

“Are we?” He looks at me. “Or are we just getting better at hiding it?”

“How’s Sergei?” I ask, changing the subject. “How are the twins?”

Nikolai almost smiles. “They’re good. Had a video call with him yesterday. He’s exhausted but happy. Never thought I’d see the day Sergei Sokolov would be changing diapers and singing lullabies.”

I smile. “Fatherhood suits him.”

“It does.” Nikolai leans against the railing. “He’s got everything now. The power, the family, and the legacy. Everything the old man wanted for him.”

“You don’t sound bitter.”

“I’m not. I never wanted to be pakhan. Too much responsibility and too many rules.” He glances at me. “That’s what you and I have in common. We chose our paths.”

“And look where it got us,” I mutter.

“Speak for yourself. I’m doing fine.” He pauses. “Until you decided to start World War Three over a girl.”

I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is with you.” He turns to face me. “So, tell me about your wife. When will I meet her? When will you give us some nieces and nephews to spoil?”

“It’s not that kind of marriage.”