Page 1 of Pay the Piper

Chapter 1

“Thanks for inviting us over, man.”

“I’m not sure I invited you so much as Ellie insisted on coming to reminisce. Although it looks like the two of you brought an entire bakery’s worth of food, so I can’t complain.”

Teddy and his fiancée brush past me into what was briefly their condo, back when Teddy was just Teddy Williams, star NHL goalie. Now he’s Teddy Taranov, Pakhan of the Thunder Bay branch of the Taranov Bratva, and recently discovered half brother of my best friend Mila.

My best friend, who relied on me for years, and has now unceremoniously left me to babysit her lover while she handles the sordid Bratva business that’s my life’s calling.

For decades, I was by her side…co-dependence, she called it, when she explained why she thought it would be good for me to be away from her. Her newfound love for Teddy’s best friend and new teammate, Thatcher, has changed her view on relationships and convinced her that she needs to play matchmaker.

“You need to find yourself a Thatcher. Someone to love and take care of who isn’t me. I promise, you might hate me for it now, but I’m right about this. Plus, you know they won’t do business with you…”

“Don’t let the baked goods distract you! They brought them as a diversion tactic so you won’t notice when they sneak off to defile the primary bedroom.”

The air leaves my lungs in a grunt as I’m engulfed in a tight bear hug while the golden retriever of a man who’s squeezing me laughs.

“Thatcher Prescott, are you trying to break my ribs?”

“Please stop full-naming me. We’ve talked about this. It’s weird!”

“It’s not my fault your name rolls off the tongue.”

He ignores me and bounds into the kitchen to no doubt raid my fridge and get started on the pastries that Teddy and Ellie brought. Teddy and Ellie, who are currently nowhere to be found. Resolving to remember to order new sheets for my bed, I shut and lock the front door and follow Thatch into the kitchen. Is this really my life now?

Well, it’s both simple and not. Simply put, I have no family other than the one I chose for myself, which consists of Mila Taranova, my best friend/boss. We left Russia as teens and never looked back, and she’s risen to the prestigious rank of Bratva Pakhan herself.

Less simply, well…

“Do you want any of these chocolate croissants, or can I have them all?”

Blinking out of my reverie, I see that the man who my best friend has chosen as her lover is double-fisting croissants already.

“You can have them all.”

“Phanks.”

Transferring both croissants to one hand, he continues rummaging, and I think again about how, really, truly, it’s not Teddy’s presence in my life that upended my routine. It’s Thatcher’s.

When Teddy arrived, traded to the Thunder Bay Rising Ride in the middle of the previous NHL season, it was on the heels of the bombshell that Mila wouldn’t be inheriting the Bratva after all. Even though her father had trained her to inherit, upon his death, we discovered he’d betrayed us, and Teddy was named heir instead. Or at least, we thought he’d betrayed us, but the truth was more complicated than either of us could have imagined. After Teddy arrived, with no idea the Bratva existed, let alone how to run one, we pivoted and took over another branch of the Taranov Bratva in New York. Mila’s second cousin wanted to get out of the business, and we were up for the challenge.

Once we arrived in New York, however, we discovered a plot to overthrow Mila, went to Russia to address an attempted coup, and realized the rot of misogyny in the Taranov Bratva went deeper than any of us knew. In the midst of our frantic time between New York and Russia, Mila managed to fall in love with Teddy’s best friend, Thatcher Prescott. A hotshot hockey playboy who fell for her immediately and somehow convinced her to give him a chance.

Now she’s stuck in Russia working with people who won’t give me the time of day, and she sent her lover back here to be as happy as possible playing hockey with his best friend in Thunder Bay. Naturally, since I can’t help her in Russia, the next best option is staying nearby and keeping him safe. That, and…

“Please tell me you saved my pregnant fiancée at least one chocolate croissant?” Teddy gives Thatcher what I’m sure he believes is a menacing look before plucking the last one from his hand and handing it to Ellie. Turning to me, he shakes his head and claps my shoulder. “I still can’t believe Mila let you out of her sight. You’re basically her third arm. She told me it was to keep an eye on Thatch?”

“Yep,” I grumble. “If the boss needs me to watch her precious sunshine, that’s what I do.”

“Ha!” Thatcher licks Cheeto dust off his fingers from a bag I didn’t even know I had and points at me. “This guy isn’t allowed to stay and help Mila in Russia—”

Now he has Ellie’s full attention in addition to Teddy’s.

“Because he defiled three Russian princesses!”

“There are no Russian princesses. They were the prime minister’s daughters—”

“On their wedding nights!”